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Sefi flies away

—

A feast is thrown in Freihild’s honor in Sefi’s newly appointed Griffinhold It is a dour, ugly little affair held under the stupid faces of griffins carved by Oly, the Obsidians are confused by my tale They knew the outcast tribes of Mars and Earth were pirates Like the Republic, they called theends But now they ard’s that the myth is true That there’s another breed out there That Volsung Fá is as real as a heart attack It is a tough pill to s Especially to Valdir and his male warriors They liked Freihild They don’t like ard even less How convenient it is for us to blame her death on myths from deep space

I sit a a cup of hard liquor Gudkind isSefi selected him and several other pathfinders to assess the scene and check the story Ozgard and I gave her

At the high table with Sefi, the children, and the highest-ranking feony in endless horns of azag His rage ferments like the berry liquor that stains his lips purple Not even the old rough bastards with the long valor tails dare speak to hiard, the only other h table The shaman, his eye patched, his hand in a cast, withers under that hard gaze Neither man listens to the braves who stand one by one to toast Freihild’s memory with trite little expressions of respect

Deft in all things, but not dying, it seems

Some deaths make all feel terribly mortal

Xenophon, who stands by the cupbearers of the high table, seems as unimpressed by the funeral toasts as I aos was not the only one skeptical about the tale of Ascomanni but he was the most vocal From the far end of the table, Pax watches Valdir with narrowed eyes Sefi stands and lifts her horn

“Freihild was born in bondage, but made herself free

Her worth, if weighed, would nar, and feasts in the halls of Valhalla I swear onupon Griffinhold by his entrails His skin will be fed to s He and his Ascomanni are nomen I declare ashvar upon them Forevermore, they stand enemy of Alltribe”

“Skol!” the rooe, she fails to see the choleric rage corrupting Valdir’s face

“Lies,” the chah the table, breaking it nearly in half Cups of spirits and plates of meat tumble to the floor Sefi’s jaw flexes as, to the horror of the host, he repeats his accusation “Lies”

She whispers so to Valdir, and reaches for his shoulder He rips away from her “Ascoers Flea-bitten raiders too weak for our warbands They have no king There is no Volsung Fá” He thrusts a finger at Ozgard “You spun his a hand at Xenophon “The White does not believe your lie When has the White been wrong?”

Sefi remains seated, and turns to look out at the host instead of her funores hio too far in his accusations

Big fool just ns No traces of evil Obsidian from the dark Freihild would never be taken unaware, even by myths She is not blind” He looks at Sefi, then back to the shaman “She was shot from the front by a bow at no i, Minetaker, Drakeslayer, be so stupid? How could she die when teaklings did not?”