Oath of Betrayal (The Broken Bonds: Slavic Fantasy #1)

T hree days had passed since Orm and Alaric went to aid Vodianka. I hoped they’d been as successful in their endeavour as we had been here. I spent most of my time in Orm’s office, doing my best to assist with fortress affairs. I wrote a few letters to people I hoped I could trust at the university, detailing the attack and asking them to raise the issue at the next council meeting. We needed more mages and more protection at the border. It was about time they stopped sticking their heads in the sand.

When I wasn’t busy writing, training, or talking to the citizens of Varta, I worried about the two men who held a special place in my heart. I tried to keep it under wraps, but my mood had noticeably soured and my brave front earned me concerned looks from Katja and Bryna. The only relief for my gnawing anxiety was drinking in the tavern, and with my friends both busy elsewhere, I was feeling less than pleasant.

‘Mead—the strongest and sweetest you have,’ I shouted to the barkeep, rolling a silver coin over the counter.

The old man always kept me well-supplied when I needed it. In reality, he was only a few years my senior; unfortunately, he looked as if life had rolled over him like an avalanche, then given him a swift kick when he was down. He was missing an eye and had a burn scar that covered the left side of his head and cheek, leaving only the semblance of an ear. The poor man was also missing two fingers and had a crooked leg that had obviously been caused by a badly set break, leaving him with an unsteady gait.