Read Online Icefall by Matthew J. Kirby - Free Book Online Page A

And then I remember that the god Odin has two ravens that whisper to him what they see in their flights across the land. Their names are Huginn and Muninn. Thought and Memory. “I think I’ll name him Muninn.”
     
    Hake’s smile says he is pleased. “A good name.”
     
    I crouch down near the cage, and Hake lingers a moment longer.
     
    “Well,” he says. “Good afternoon.”
     
    “Good afternoon, Hake.”
     
    He marches out the door, a different sort of man to me now than he was but minutes before. As brutal and violent as berserkers can be, Hake can also be thoughtful. And caring.
     
    I look into the eyes of my bird, my new friend, and he looks back at me. “Hello, Muninn,” I whisper. Now that I have memory, all I need is sight.
     
    After the night meal, Harald tries poking Muninn with a stick through the bars of his cage. Muninn flaps his bent wing, trying to get away, and I snatch the stick from Harald’s hands. “Leave him alone.”
     
    “Look at that ugly bird.” Harald laughs. “Why’s it bald?”
     
    “He’s not ugly,” I say. “He’s picked on and bullied. His feathers will grow back.”
     
    Harald laughs again, and Per comes over.
     
    “Leave the bird alone, lad,” he says. “It was a gift from Hake.”
     
    Harald wrinkles his nose. “I’d give it right back.”
     
    Per smiles at me with a slight shrug, and I give my eyes a little roll.
     
    Other than Harald, everyone admires Muninn. Raudi continues to smile at me. The berserkers worship Odin and they nod to the cage in respect and appreciation. Ravens mean something different to them. The berserkers call ravens swansof blood, because they feed on the bodies after a fierce battle. Hake probably thought it was a noble gift, but my Muninn doesn’t look very noble half-bald, and I don’t like to think of him eating anything but bugs and berries.
     
    I try to feed him from my hand. At first he is wary, and jabs his beak at me as if he wants me to just drop the food on the ground for him. But I am stubborn. And patient. He must learn to take the food from me, so he will trust me. As the evening passes, he begins to come closer to my fingers, and his beak becomes gentler. Before long, he is feeding right out of my palm.
     
    Hake comes over and watches me pass Muninn bits of food. “He’s already taken to you.”
     
    “I hope so,” I say. “But I don’t think he’s ready to ride my shoulder.”
     
    “No. But he will be.” Hake smiles and moves off to be with his men.
     
    Asa joins me after he has left, and we sit together, wordlessly. I pass her a bit of bread, and she holds it just inside the bars of the cage. Muninn makes a grab, and Asa flinches, dropping the crumbs. The raven snatches them with a caw that sounds like a laugh, as though he has won some victory. Asa laughs, too, a sound I haven’t heard from her in a long while.
     
    “Your bird reminds me of Gunnlaug,” she says. “You remember what he was like when he came to our hall? Before the war?” Asa sits up. “Gunnlaug’s head is just as bald and pink.”
     
    I remember him at Father’s table, after he’d drunk too much mead. “And he laughs like Muninn, too.”
     
    Asa nods, but the smile falls from her lips. She reaches for another bread crumb and doesn’t bother to hand it to my bird. She just tosses it inside the cage.
     
    “He wanted to marry me,” she says.
     
    I stare at her. “I didn’t know that.” Then I think about Asa leaving our hall to be Gunnlaug’s wife and I don’t know what to say.
     
    “Father refused him,” she says. “That’s why we are at war. Because of me.”
     
    No. That’s not right. “It isn’t your fault,” I say. “Nor Father’s. Gunnlaug is the one who declared war.” And I begin to feel the burden that Asa has been carrying. This is what has driven her into silence and sadness.
     
    She stares at something across the room, and I follow her gaze. She is watching Per, as he laughs with Hake.