A Free Chapter Excerpt from “The Inheritance Thieves”
Welcome to Book 2 of Akiniwazisaga.
“The Inheritance Thieves” is the start of a trilogy story arc that expands the whole world of Akiniwazi by introducing more politics and takes you on a long trip through much of the physical world. You learn of the consequences from “A Light Rises in a Dark World” so there will be MILD SPOILERS in this chapter. (Go buy the book and finish it if this matters to you.
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Next Chapter: “Chapter 5: For the Good of the Union”!
For those of you who haven’t read the first five chapters of the previous novel, click the button, and join the adventure:
If you are struggling with all the strange names and weird terms, here is the first part of the “Encyclopedia Akiniwazi”. It is a repository of terminology used in the books to help you with pronunciation and added meanings. More parts will be added every week till finished.
On with the show!
4. Confession and Revelation
Bergfrid awoke to Aske turning and tossing in bed. It was hard enough for her to sleep lately, but now worry for her husband took precedence. Aske never wrestled with dreams. He was blessed with the heavy seal of sleep that sealed his eyes. Slumber was more difficult for her. Often, troubles would steal upon her in the dead of night, reviving worries over business or triflings from the day past, or of days yet to come.
Gently, she shook her husband’s shoulder. Aske did not respond. Instead, his arm flailed up over his eyes, and he gave a stark groan. What could trouble his sleep so?
She shook his shoulder harder.
“Kjaere mann, wake up,” she called to him, her voice low.
He did not respond.
This had never happened before. One shake was often enough.
“Aske?” she called to him again.
Nothing. Now his legs began to twitch and a long whimper came out of his mouth.
“Aske!” she exclaimed louder and half rose, shaking him hard. “Wake up!”
The whimper rose to a cry, then turned into a bellow as Aske came fully awake, half vaulting himself naked on the floor at the foot of the bed. If she had not caught him at the last second, he would have crashed pell-mell into their fireplace.
He did not speak but gasped like an overloaded oxen. Bergfrid reached out to steady him as he stood up, body shaking in the cold of the March night. Only the dim embers of the banked fire gave light in the cottage. With an unsteady step he walked forward and leaned heavily against the mantle of the fireplace, taking in the faint warmth that remained, and calmed his heart.
“What is wrong?” Bergfrid asked, a shadow of terror in her voice.
“I dreamt,” Aske said after a long moment.
“I assumed th-”
“Not like that. You know it is God’s shield for me. Clear sight when awake, blindness when asleep.”
“Could it have been a spiritual attack? Are there manitou about?” Ever since the Heijl’s Valor came two autumns ago, she worried about demons or other unholy creatures infesting the island.
“I… cannot say.” He frowned, focusing his gift of discernment.
“Do you remember this dream or has God locked your mind from it?”
Aske looked over his shoulder at her. She could only see his outline in the dark, not even a sparkle for his eyes.
“Jah,” he said going to his chair and with a tired wheeze, slumped into it. The cold wood on his naked flesh shocked him even more awake.
Bergfrid walked to the linen chest, took out a quilt and wrapped it around her husband. He gave a grateful nod.
With a careful movement, atypical for her, she knelt next to him, putting her hand on his. His eyes narrowed for a moment, confused.
“What do you remember?”
“Three things remain, but I have no understanding.”
There was a soft knock on the door. Bergfrid rose again with the same careful motion and felt Aske’s eyes keenly watching her every move. After putting a hangrock dress over her night clothes, she answered the door. Two concerned night watchmen were waiting, their patrol of the logging camp interrupted by the sound of Aske.
“We heard… Is everything greithr, Dame Bergfrid?” the first man asked, puzzled. They, too, had never before heard Herre Aske cry out and feared this a bad omen.
“We are well. Thank you for checking, herr,” Dame Bergfrid responded in her normal imperious tone, ending the conversation. The men gave a quick bow and returned to their patrol of the camp. Runaway imaginations making them far less drowsy than they had been ten minutes earlier. Their mistress closed the door and turned back to her husband. The dim embers faintly lit his familiar expression. She knew that look, it was one of discovery.
“What do you see?” she questioned. Her tongue felt numb as she feared his guess.
“You are pregnant.”
She did not respond.
“Why have you not told me?”
“I wanted to be sure, first,” she whispered.
“That is why you wanted to go into port. To hire a midwife.”
She could never keep secrets from him for long.
“Jah,” her cheeks burned with the admission. “I think she will be needed in six months, God willing.”
“Pfah!” Aske exclaimed.
“It is not right for a father to deliver his own child!” the words came out of her, and she was instantly ashamed.
Aske’s expression froze in silent hurt. She knew that he was more than capable of the task, but the thought of him being involved with the birth offended her somehow.
“You talk like paleflesh again, my Elskling.” The rebuke stole the breath out of her. She had wounded his pride, but not as she expected. “Who better to deliver his son than his own father?” Aske added.
Bergfrid teared up at the words. “Or daughter,” she choked.
He smiled at the word ‘daughter’ and the pestering shade of worry was dispelled from her mind.
“Or my beautiful daughter,” Aske said standing up, re-wrapping the blanket around himself. He walked to her in that same fluid step she always enjoyed watching. It was as if his movements radiated joy in a way that his voice would never express. He took her in his arms, wrapped the blanket around her as well and kissed her passionately.
“My love, I wondered if this day would ever come,” his voice gentle.
“You do not hate me for keeping this from you?”
“No.”
“You do not hate me for wanting a midwife?”
“No.”
“But why did you say you should be the one to deliver our child?”
She detected a deep swell of sadness in him. “What? What is this?” She pushed back for a moment and looked at her husband. Aske’s face was somber. “What is this sorrow I feel from you? A moment ago you were overjoyed, now it is gone?”
Aske did not explain. Instead, he walked over to his chest of summer clothing and opened it up, digging deep into its recesses. He pulled out a small handkerchief that was wrapped around something small. After lighting the lamp on their little table, he motioned for her to come sit while he unwrapped the handkerchief. With a pair of heavy thunks, two rings fell onto the tablecloth. Bergfrid picked up the silver ring and saw the Vapenaettir symbol on it.
“What is this?” she asked trying to comprehend.
“Confirmation of my dream. Our coming child was the key that unlocked it.”
“What did you dream?” Bergfrid’s mind foamed with fear. He took her empty hand in his, giving it a warm squeeze.
“A man is coming for me because of these rings. I saw the two of us getting on a boat and leaving you behind. You stood on the beach alone. We sailed east toward the horizon where the light of a great fire burned. It was not the sun, for the smoke climbed to the heavens. When I looked back, our child stood in front of you, waiting for me to return.”
Bergfrid’s hand flew reflexively to her mouth. After long seconds, heavy tears welled up and ran down her face.
“Do you think this vision means your death?” Words thick and heavy in her mouth.
“I do not know. After a time, I was put on a silver boat and it began sailing home. I did not recognize the stars above, and the water was like glass. I do not know if the boat came here or if it took me to Heaven. That is all I can remember.”
Bergfrid cried silently. Her own interpretations swirled like autumn leaves in her head.
Aske took her other hand, squeezing it from time to time, and in the dim light of the lamp, let her squeeze his back between the sniffles. In his eyes, she was radiant. Even in her sorrow. How could he tell her more? All Aske could do was wait and pray in silence that God did not take up action on this dream. He glanced toward the window. The first dim blue light of morning could be seen through the rawhide covered panes.
“What is this other gold ring?” she questioned after a time.
“I do not know. It seems to be a paleflesh symbol of some kind. Skaerslinger do not make such jewelry.” She pursed her lips at the use of the word paleflesh. She hated it as much as she hated people calling him a savage or a barbarian. He used the word only in disgust or to describe Forsamling he considered dishonorable.
“Perhaps the one who is coming will be able to explain it,” she offered. Aske only nodded.
“Daylight in the swamp! Daylight in the swamp!” The cry went up from the night watch over by the bunkhouse. “Get up before the flatiron rings and you work with empty bellies! Daylight in the swamp!”
Aske and Bergfrid sat in silence, looking at one another till they heard the clamor of the men getting dressed. Bergfrid chuckled first. “Not the way I wanted to wake up this morning.”
“Nor I,” Aske agreed with a wan smile.
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