Ragnhild went off with Vidar, his arm around her. Njord and Stonebear had some choice words with them before they left. Ragnhild became two shades paler as her brother made some dire oaths regarding any misbehaviour. They went towards the trunk with silver to pay for the elevator, pretending to be a married pair of merchants.

“Why don’t we all do that?” I asked, as we made our way up the thicket. We first went up one of the highest branchlings, then began to climb and jump from twig to twig up the thicket.

“That’d be a funny sight.” Erik helped me to the next twig, laughing from his belly as he took my hand. “A bunch of ruffians loaded like pack mules with climbing gear saying, ‘oh, we’re just harmless merchants, don’t mind the dragon venom’.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/wWOblg2.jpeg]

“Of course we’d be loaded up like mules,” I said, hoisting Erik up, “just as any enterprising Tree-Climbing Suppliers would!”

Erik roared and wheezed with laughter, grabbing onto an upright fork in the twig for support. As the fífl was so easily paralysed, I had to affix the ropes for Njord by myself.

“You daft boy.” Njord climbed up the ropes, dextrous for a big guy. “We’d have to pay customs for all our goods. And then if’n we didn’t sell them, they’d get suspicious.”

“Then we should sell them.” Hopping and skipping, I came to a thick, tall twig—good for climbing. Putting my tree-climbing spikes on my boots, I slung a rope around the twig. Sticking my spiked boots into it, I’d slide the rope higher then pull it tight, allowing me to take two steps up. Repeating this, I walked up the tree two steps at a time. And when I found an annoying sprout in the way of my rope, no good for climbing, I cut it away with my knife.

“Who would you sell them to?” Erik caught the rope I tossed down, climbing after me.

“To a nefarious band of heretical tappers, of course.” Testing the rope, I jumped and swung on it over to the next twig, grabbing it with my legs and pulling myself onto it. “Redeemed only by their handsome hero: Crow.”

Erik let the rope slap him in the face as he held his sides, gasping.

“And what about the dragon venom?” Njord tested my rope and my knot. He was a careful sort…. “That’s some awfully powerful venom to be selling to some orchard farmers to graft in their saplings—enough to kill a whole village.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/QRvzuuh.jpeg]

I shrugged. “Well, I expect your sister could find places to hide it… though I suspect men frequent those.”

Njord’s face became as red as his hair.

“Shut up, Erik!” Njord slapped Erik, who was almost rolling off the branch laughing, oblivious to the strike. He caught hold of the rope, swinging towards me like a battering ram. “I may see you fly yet, Crow!”

“If only you were so lucky.” I tsked, leaping to the next branch just before he swung into me.

“Get back here! It’s not safe to go alone!” Njord desperately tried to right himself on the branch as I made distance.

“It’s not safe to climb twigs with an angry bull!” I waved before clambering up the nearest twig, disappearing into the thicket.

“Stop laughing, Erik!! Shut up and swing over here!”

Climbing higher, Njord’s curses and threats faded into the layers of leaves and branches. I avoided cutting or breaking any sprouts while climbing, lest he trail me before his temper cooled.

The twigs grew sparser as I reached the top of the thicket. Before, you could barely see more than a few horse-lengths in front of you, and now you could see far enough to cast a spear—some fifty yards. Njord may test that… so I kept close to cover. There were still many places to hide amongst the scattered bunches of crisscrossing twigs.

Looking up from my hiding place, I saw Birger had set up a ladder. ‘Ladder’ in this case being a single rope with knots tied into it to grab while climbing. In getting up here, I had seen no trail markers left for us, nor any ropes to help us with the ascent. The long absence of any sign of Birger had given me hope he had fallen to his demise; a kindness to save me the trouble.

The bottom of the ladder was tied near the top of a steep twig, which I began to climb. The thicket thinned out to nothing as I went higher. Around me, I could see other thickets a few miles in the distance, the trunk just barely visible in the distance through its many canopies of leaves. Away from the tree, I could see ships sailing along the fjords, into the vast ocean where the icebergs floated with the currents.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

The wind was fierce here, becoming a howling chill that threatened to sweep me off the twig. Keeping low, I grasped the twig with both hands, slowly crawling up it until I came to the ladder. It reached up to a twig about half a bowshot’s distance. Not directly above my twig, but some hundred yards up and maybe sixteen away from the branch, the rope hanging at a very steep angle. Little colored flags flapped in the wind, helping us to see the rope. Seemed careless, to me… I would easily spot that and set up a trap for any tappers who intended—

An arrow whizzed in my direction. I didn’t move, grasping the branch tighter. It missed me by a couple of yards. Was it because of poor aim, or did the wind buffet it aside?

Birger jeered from above, shouting. “Seems you didn’t spook and fly away, Crow!”

I had a feeling I’d hear that joke a lot… but three times in one day?

“After how long it took to climb here, there’s no way I’m going down again! What with the useless route you fixed!”

Birger reached for another arrow. “It was an easy climb!” His hand stopped half way, not grabbing the next arrow. “Do you even know how we—” The wind picked up.

“What!?” I cupped an ear to him.

“I said—! ...Never you mind, get up here and I’ll tell you!”

He isn’t going to cut the rope when I’m halfway up, is he? It was hard to imagine him not doing that. The other end of the rope was affixed to the twig I was standing on, so he wouldn’t need to worry about losing rope if he cut me off.

Still, it was probably safer to go up than to stay down here with Njord. I could wait for Erik to be a witness to any foul play… but he’d probably just laugh as it happened. And if Njord climbed up first and joined forces with Birger, I’d really be in trouble.

“What’s taking you so long!? Don’t you know how to climb a rope!?”

“I’m a bit out of practice, since your terrible route had none!”

“I already told you, we don’t—” The wind swept away his explanation, once again.

There was the possibility to just hide in the thicket until the other team came through, but… it might be useful if we were alone.

Grabbing the first knot, I hauled myself up two feet to the next one. Normally, any resident of Yggdrasill could climb a rope without knots… but this one was only a quarter þumal thick, and the wind was fierce. My climbing spikes were left in my satchel as I dared not use them for grip. If the rope beneath me was cut, I would swing around in the breeze, and climbing would get very hard.

Pressing my boots against the knot below me, I wished I could just curl my feet and grab the rope; then it’d be easy to pull myself up. Easier still if I could fly… though that wind would toss me about. It already was: Gripping the rope tighter, I felt myself lurch to one side in a sudden gale, the rope gently creaking. The rope was affixed at both ends, but even so it had enough slack to whip me here or there.

While I climbed and endured oppressive gusts, I looked up towards Birger, that rooster-combed head peering down. Come to think of it, if he was sawing the part of the rope tied around his twig… I wouldn’t be able to see it.

I should’ve thought of that.

Gripping the rope tightly with gloved hands and forehead pressed against it, I tried to feel through my garb whether Birger was sawing away at my ladder.

Probably not…?

At any moment I could fall, and Birger would say, “Let’s see if you can fly, Crow!”

But come to think of it, I have a klifrigg on, don’t I? Yes, a leather climbing harness around the shoulders, waist and legs, like a belt with suspenders and leg-loops.

While Birger watched – still a distance away – I performed a foot-wrap; the ladder having just enough slack. Using one foot, I hooked the ladder and pulled it so that it curled under the other foot, so it looked like a step. Pushing with one foot and pulling with the other, I could support my weight as if I were standing on solid ground. You can also climb by this method… but this ladder didn’t have nearly enough slack, being hitched at both ends.

In the same moment I used the foot-wrap, I had taken some cord that was hanging from my harness and began tying a cinch-knot around the ladder. A cinch knot is like a lasso, it tightens when it’s pulled on… so if I fell I could easily cinch it tight.

If Birger cut me loose, friction with the ladder and with its knots would slow me down. After I stopped near the end of the rope, I’d climb back up to the twig I started from, and make new plans to stab Birger.

The loop of the cinch-knot was wide, so I could ascend up the ladder without it catching on the knots. Moving cautiously, I watched Birger’s head to see if it bobbed or he glanced to where the rope was tied to his twig—signs he was sawing it. He watched me intently, betraying nothing. Which was strange, as I couldn’t imagine that eldhúsfífl Trickster-Thrall preventing a smug, gleeful, murderous grin from painting his ugly features, if he was sawing the rope.

Maybe he was too dumb to think of the idea? I was, and I’m a genius.

Hold on… he may have had a simpler plan. Wait till I’m three quarters of the way up—then shoot at this handsome face.

Birger stood up, bow in hand, arrow already nocked—its sharp point aiming straight at me.