There was silence... no one wanted to be the first to speak.

“You know… I didn’t like Birger,” Asotall’s moustache said, bobbing up and down.

Njord fixed him with the evil eye, a prelude to the evil fist. “So we should be grateful Crow murdered him!?”

Asotall turned to the norn-blood, his moustache and thick eyebrows revealing nothing. “Let me finish what I have to say, Njord.”

There was a tension between Asotall’s hairy nobility, and Njord’s blood-red violence.

“Speak then.” Njord permitted.

Asotall nodded in a half bow, respectfully. He had the poise of a jarl, despite being a mere tapper. “I don’t think Crow killed him. He’s always been so full of bluster and ridiculous bravado. He would’ve done it openly for some insult or other, to impress us… even though he’d likely have died.” This was… annoyingly convincing to the crowd. Especially annoying to Njord.

But then Asotall had to open his big moustache: “That being said… I’m worried that, even if it isn’t murder, or incompetence… it is bad luck. And that’s far worse.” A chill ran through the air. “We’re already contending with the álfar magic, and the curse of the tree… at the least, I think Crow should be abandoned. We could lay down lines and drop him a mile away from us, so he can do no harm.”

“Why should I be punished for an accident!?” I interrupted. “I told you, he said to cut the rope.”

“That’s not what I heard!” Gunne stepped forward, his face so boring and typical it was almost interesting. He never said much, and what he did say was always forgettable.

“I heard Birger cursing your name as he fell!”

I hope they forget he said that. I looked at him in confusion. The crowd was captured and Njord standing up, ready to pounce

“I was checking the pins and the route, near to where you were. And, through the leaves, I heard Birger calling you a changeling to his last!”

“Really… you think that’s the worst he’d call me, if I deliberately murdered him?” Bruised and battered, I stood up to Gunne. I glared at him with a pristine face, untouched with bruises or blood—but something about my gait and quickness after taking such a beating… it unsettled him.

Still, he tried to continue. “He wasn’t speaking kindly—”

“Do you think I’ll curse him for telling me to cut the rope, just because he didn’t die with kind words on his lips? After he saved me? I was frozen, unable to say a word! I panicked… and when he saw I couldn’t fix a new anchor in time, he said to cut the rope!”

“But why didn’t you just stab your boots in and hold him?” Gunne said quickly, thinking he had me.

“We were on the rotted bark! It was like trying to stand firm in a swamp.”

“But you could…” Gunne stopped, realizing things had got a bit too interesting for his calibre.

“Hold on, you can’t interrupt me like that!” he said, realizing I interrupted him earlier.

“Really? Who told you that? Did we have a lawspeaker to recite the law at the start…? What did he say about beating the accused bloody, to force a confession, if so?”

“Obviously we don’t have time for a full and proper Thing, with a lawspeaker… but you still interrupted me when I said Birger was—”

“All you said is you think you heard ‘changeling’, while deep in a thicket! There’s nothing to interrupt.”

“But that’s—”

“Enough, Gunne.” Stonebear cut in. “Crow, stop interrupting people… now does anyone else have something to say?”

“I would just like to add, if I could, Stonebear,” Gunne said, ruffled, “that it’s all suspicious enough that we are safer killing Crow than letting him live.”

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“Kinslaying suits you as a precaution, does it?” I asked.

Gunne shrugged. “We’re tappers… not strutting jarls. We should act as we are. Besides, no one will be sorry to see you go.”

“You’re now my favourite person to drag down with me.”

“See, murder is his nature!” Gunne jumped quickly on my joke. “Well, do we all agree? Should we free ourselves of Crow’s bad-luck, his nuisance, his threats?”

Njord stood up, his glare willing the others to do so.

Asotall, his moustache frowning in pity, stood up. Even Erik stood up. A unanimous decision… except for one dwarf.

“Come on, Stonebear…” Njord loomed over him, making the dwarf look smaller, older. “It’s not like you to see things differently from me.”

Stonebear looked up. “I’m waiting for the others to tell me if they have anything left to say. Crow?”

“My ghost will be vengeful!” My growl seemed to hit with the same force as Njord—partially because it was Njord’s, which I mimicked. “I’ll become a draugr like none other, sent to destroy you for your crimes, this injustice… I’ll bring not just Yggdrasill against you but the forces of HEL! If you think I was trouble in life you will fear the monster I am in death! And maybe I’ll meet up with Birger, and he’ll come along for the fun!” I spoke with teeth, with mad eyes that did not see a crowd but a few individuals to each curse to their graves.

I regarded my work, whether I had saved Crow with this aggressive defence.

Asotall’s face didn’t change, as it was just a moustache… but he sat down.

Njord’s voice was fire. “What are you doing, you West-Man? Are you a woman frightened by a simple curse of a dying boy?”

Asotall shook his moustache. “I am fine with leaving the boy, I see no reason to test his curse. And it is wise men who fear strong curses more than steel.”

I and Njord both looked to Gunne, wondering what he might do. “He should’ve been a skald instead of a tapper….” Gunne had shivered under my curse… but it seems he wasn’t a wise man who feared it more than Njord’s steel. “I suggested it, I stand by it. We’re better off without him.”

“Erik?” Stonebear looked to him, Njord’s glare following but lacking its lustre—he knew Erik didn’t need much.

“Well… something I’d like to say.” He looked around, expecting a denial.

“Go on….” Stonebear was looking up at the sun now, calculating daylight.

“We’re already a man down near the start. So, if we lose Crow… do we have to give up the expedition?” Erik made a simple and obvious point, as he was a simple and obvious Erik. Still, in the wrangles of morality and curses… it was a forgotten point.

“Will we have to delay till next spring?” Asotall’s moustache asked.

“Just get some boys from Blábýr on our way up!” Njord insisted.

“So we have to stop to find them, and perform a new blood-brother ritual? And what if there are álfar spies amongst them?” Asotall’s moustache seemed impervious to Njord’s glaring.

Gunne looked troubled. “I don’t want to have to wait till next spring….” He sat down.

Njord grabbed him by the klifrigg. “You STARTED the motion!”

“So you keep it going, if you want.” Gunne grabbed Njord’s hand, trying to hide his fear with dismissal as he pulled it off. “I’m here to make money… not to cry tears over a Loki-thrall.” He tried to block, but Njord’s punch was too fast. Gunne fell onto his back, flummoxed by Njord’s first good deed.

“Fie! Stop that!” Stonebear commanded.

“I’ll not have our dead foster-brother disrespected!” Njord said while hitting one foster-brother and trying to kill another.

“Þegi þú! Njord… I mean it.” Stonebear finally found his teeth.

He can put them back in the jar when he’s done with them, I thought, looking to Njord for his reaction. His teeth were bigger, sharper—but he was a lone wolf. He looked around. Everyone was sitting, except him.

“Do you really want to work with a coward who cuts you loose!?” His question was met with silence. “Fine!” Growling like a cornered dog, he left before he killed someone. Namely… me.

Stonebear approached me, leading me away from the others. “Are you too hurt to continue? Will we need to stop a day?”

“No… I can keep going.” I noticed dwarves have big feet, at least relative to their size.

“Come on… raise your head.” Stonebear tapped me with the end of his pipe.

I did so without argument.

“I always wanted you to shut up… but now your silence is worrying.” Saying that, Stonebear waited, standing there silently with me for several minutes; making no sounds except to indicate he was still here, standing with me.

The silence cracked: “Crow… what happened?”

My lips clenched, as I resumed a downcast posture.

“Don’t waste my time… what are you hiding.”

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with….”

“I’ll judge that.” He insisted.

I looked in the opposite direction, as if his presence was painful. “You might throw me off the tree….”

“... No. I won’t do that. But if you don’t tell me, I will throw you out of the Liv, right now.”

“I set myself up for that, now, didn’t I…?”

“You did.”

Looking up to the sky, I saw only leaves and brush. “I panicked… and… I cut the rope.”

“...Well,” Stonebear puffed on his pipe. “Keep that to yourself.”