Reluctant Berserker: Isaacson Trilogy Book One

Chapter 24

Breakfast was finished by Esmund and Ulric, the only two who'd managed to maintain their appetites. Then, without further conversation, Ulric quickly saw to the dishes, and they revised their plans for the day. A short while later, Gunnar sat beside Nora on the sofa, waiting for his father to arrive with Esmund. Ulric stood at the window, where he'd been since Esmund had left thirty minutes ago.

"They're here," Ulric murmured, striding to the door and pulling it open.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner." Nora stared ahead, unseeing.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Gunnar whispered as he kissed her brow. He stood and walked toward the door, watching his father and Esmund ride into view. "We'll sort this out soon enough."

"But I feel so ashamed."

"You've nothing to be ashamed of," Ulric matter-of-factly stated before Gunnar had a chance to speak.

Vernon and Esmund entered the house, and Ulric closed the door, taking up position in front of it, intending to discourage any thought of escape. Nora sat on the sofa, looking like she was about to meet her executioner, as Vernon removed his hat and took his place in one of the armchairs.

He looked at Nora for several minutes before speaking. "I don't know how I didn't see it before. You had to have been around nine years old that night?"

Nora looked at her lap. "I was eight." She glanced at Gunnar. When he nodded, she said, "We may as well get right down to the issue at hand. Dusty delivered a letter Uncle Franklin wrote to me, confessing several things about the night my mother died, but it was destroyed in the fire."

Vernon leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Will you tell me what it said?"

She shrugged. "It's nothing you don't already know." Gunnar gripped her hand, holding his breath until she looked at him, sighed, and nodded. "All right, Uncle Franklin said my father didn't die that awful night but that he's been locked away in prison for the past twenty years."

"I imagine that was quite a shock for you."

"One of many, unfortunately," Nora muttered. "It's rather galling to think Uncle Franklin believed me incapable of accepting the truth."

Vernon leaned forward and touched her hand, "I don't believe he felt you incapable. He was keeping you safe, as he tried to do ever since that night." He waited for her to meet his gaze and then continued. "Let's start from the beginning, shall we?" At her nod, he said, "What's your full name?"

"Nora Elizabeth Jensen," she said, lowering her eyes.

He nodded and patted her hand before sitting back in his chair, never taking his eyes from her. "And you are the daughter of Millie and Norbert Jensen?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember much of the night your mother died?"

Nora squeezed Gunnar's hand and shook her head, "Only a few details."

Vernon glanced at his sons. "Millie Jensen was not a simple woman. She was a Berserker, born of Berserkers. For centuries, it was believed female Berserkers were abominations to be destroyed at birth." He turned his attention back to Nora, "Your father would have succeeded in killing you that night if we hadn't arrived when we did."

"But, a Berserker can't harm his own family," Esmund said.

"That's true...which is why Norbert refrained from berserkering." Vernon pursed his lips, studying Nora. "What do you remember, Nora?"

Nora shrugged, "I don't know. It's hard to say what my actual memories of the night are and what Uncle Franklin told me."

"Think about it for a minute and say what comes to mind."