Tordhir - Lost in the Deep - Part 3

A♦ The helmet gave me a slight headache. It felt tight, too small. Was it small on the king as well? Would a king complain about such a trivial matter? Is my head larger than the king’s? Is it a change that has happened in the five generations since my ancestors left the kingdom? Or is it just me? Is my head too big?

Is that why Tylfrida refused to share bread with me? She was looking at my head when telling me she was forging links with my brother. Might Magnulin have been my son if not for my oversize head? Those thoughts fled when I saw the giant in front of me. They’re the kind of thoughts that steal hours from me, days are also up for the taking. I have cast aside these and similar thoughts many times before. If I live, I know they will come back to taunt me again. They can be both better and worse companions than fear.

I had frozen in place, not daring to even run and hide. My dead companions were screaming in my mind that I was a coward. In my head they all had my voice, as I was forgetting their own voices. The giant had its back to me. Her back by the looks of it. Not even her cloak was moving. I exhaled my held breath when I saw the truth.

The giant was a stone statue. I didn’t feel foolish after this false scare. Always expecting the worst has kept me alive so far. The helmet had not put an end to that. While part of me wished nothing would end that habit, another part yearned for it to be over, a thing of the past that I didn’t need anymore.

I don’t know if it’s correct to say that she was beautiful, or if I should instead say that it, was a masterpiece. Though, in my loneliness I chose to go with “her” instead of “it” when referring to the statue. Standing below her, I called out “hello.”

My voice echoed throughout the hall, while it would have terrified me if she replied I also longed to hear another voice spoken out loud. An alternative to the whispers in my head. I dusted of the plaque and coughed when dust flew in my face. It read, “Belgrima the Salt giver - Lady of the White Lake.”

A better student of history would know who she was. I asked her if she knew the way out, but she didn’t reply. The day still had a few hours left in it, while I didn’t yet need the rest I wanted her company. Also my knee was throbbing.

I settled down at her feet and fished up my pipe. A year ago I would have considered my tobacco pouch to have been empty weeks ago. There wasn’t anything for the flame to take. In the end it comforted me to sit there with the pipe and go through the motions. Besides she didn’t know that I was just pretending to smoke. The pipe smoke that I felt was probably just a figment that my mind conjured up to remind me of better times.

Even though it all played out in my mind I found comfort there at Belgrima’s feet. I smiled up at her and was about to ask if she had any bread to share when I saw a glimmer from her outstretched hand. “Do you have something for me there?” I asked out loud, while wondering about how I should address her. The Salt giver, My Lady, Lady Belgrima, Ancient One.

Her silence broke my spell and I was again cold and tired. She was holding something in her hand. I had to drag some fallen boulders to her feet to stand on before I could reach it. It would have felt wrong to climb on her. Standing on my toes on the not entirely stable boulders made me feel like a thief. Her hand steadied me, it felt strong and rough.

Then I held it, the glimmering thing was a silver necklace with a large emerald held in place by a silver rune. The old one for protection. I marvelled at the fact that it remained there, untouched by the evil in these mines. Had the shadow tried to take the necklace? Was it the ghost of Belgrima that had protected it? Had the statue provided some protection?

I am not sure why I turned my back on her as I opened the necklace and fastened it around my neck. While she didn’t change when I turned to show how I looked, I felt my face splitting up in a grin. I couldn’t explain why but everything felt better. It might have been her outstretched hand pointing forward or a small tug from the necklace. The tug wasn’t the type you’d feel from the rod when the fish bites, instead it’s a pull you barely notice from within your chest.

“Thank you Belgrima, may we meet again.” I had planned to stay by her side for the night, but it felt as if I had renewed purpose. I had to move, this new sense of direction would lead me out. I walked longer than I had in days and only stopped when I thought about my hurt knee again. I was no longer in pain but I didn’t want to provoke anything so I made camp and settled to rest. I held the necklace tight as I drifted of to sleep, hoping that I’d dream of Belgrima the Salt giver.