Rurik's Arc

Chapter 5 of 22

The wild folk followed Rurik out of the glade to see his army. His wyrm waited by the tunnel, iron scales dark in the light, its eye burning amber. But the red-eyed elf had asked for proof the siege was worth their spears. Rurik had shown her the wyrm. Now Bjorn wanted his proof too. He fell into step beside Rurik on the trail down. "The gold," Bjorn said. "You promised raider's gold for the blade. Show me it exists." Rurik kept walking. "After the siege. I take their war chest. You get paid." "Words." Bjorn stopped. The wild folk behind them stopped too. "My uncle died over words. I don't ride on them." He put his hand near his empty scabbard. "Show me the gold now, or I take my men and go." Rurik had no gold. The gold sat in an enemy camp he had not yet beaten. He felt the whole alliance tip on Bjorn's next step. Thorin came up on his other side, ax loose in his fist, watching Bjorn the way a man watches a snapped rope. "He can't show you what he hasn't taken," Thorin said. "Nobody can." "Then his word's worth nothing." Bjorn turned to leave. Rurik grabbed his arm. "You want steel you can hold. Fine." He reached to his own belt and unbuckled it. His father's axe was in the gate post at Greyspine, but this belt-knife had ridden with him since he claimed the pass. The handle was wrapped in old wire. He pressed it into Bjorn's hand. "This stays with you until the gold's in your fist. It's worth more to me than the sword you're chasing. If I don't pay, you keep it and take my hand with it." Bjorn looked at the knife. He turned it over. The wire was worn smooth where Rurik gripped it. "A knife's not gold," Bjorn said. "It's a hostage," Thorin said. "Same thing men have traded for a thousand years. He gives you the thing he won't leave behind. That's how you know he'll come back for it." Bjorn closed his hand on the knife. He was quiet a long moment. Then he slid it into his belt, next to the empty scabbard. "Until the gold," he said. "Then I trade it back for the blade." "Until the gold," Rurik said. The wild folk watched the two men clasp arms. Bjorn's loyalty held, bought now with iron instead of a promise. But Rurik felt the weight of it settle. He had staked his father's knife on gold that sat inside the enemy's camp. To keep his word to Bjorn, he had to break the siege first. And the war chest he had promised was ringed by the very army besieging his home.