Oath of the Wolf (Wrath and Weeping #2)

Chapter 1 Brynn

Brynn

Kings were like hearth fires—necessary but best kept at arm’s length.

It was good to draw close to them, but never too close.

The flame might offer protection from other elements, but they were still dangerous.

It was best to be known by a king, able to direct his focus, but never the object of his focus. That was where the real danger lay.

Brynn had not needed to think about kings much these past months, but now Ovrek, king of Valdar, wanted something.

He had not outright said he wanted something, but he had sent gifts.

Sumptuous gifts from far-off lands, the kinds of gifts meant to impress.

Kings did not grant such gifts freely. Men like him did not give without expecting to get in return, so what did Ovrek expect?

The riddle had harried Brynn for weeks now and she felt she had only half of it. What was she missing?

“Wife?” Cenric called to her in a way that indicated he’d called more than once.

“Yes?” Brynn smiled up at him, realizing she had been staring at the hearth in the middle of the great hall.

The cacophony of celebration roared around them. At least two hundred people packed into the hall, laughing, singing, and dancing wherever a patch of space could be found.

Cenric gestured to the young man standing before them.

“I wanted to thank you for your wedding gift.” Evred was a lanky young man, barely over twenty with a frame that hadn’t quite filled out yet.

Brynn inclined her head. “Of course. The blessings of your gods and mine to you and Rowan.”

“Your gods and mine,” Evred answered, bowing to Brynn. “Rowan wanted to make sure I thanked you before the night was over.”

Rowan should have thanked Brynn herself, but Brynn didn’t blame her for sending Evred instead. A part of Brynn was relieved that she had. Rowan had been Cenric’s concubine, living with him for over a year before he’d married Brynn.

Rowan and Cenric’s relationship had already ended by the time Brynn and Cenric had married, but it was still…awkward. There were confused feelings on all sides.

Now Rowan was marrying Evred, a thane in the household of a wealthy Ombra landowner. Brynn and Cenric had been invited. As the alderman and lady of the shire, they had decided it would be rude not to attend.

Brynn had gifted Rowan ten ells of woolen cloth reinforced with spells to ensure they would last longer, along with three strands of colored glass beads, a knife made from Kelethi steel, and copper brooch.

They had been the finest gifts Brynn could think of giving while being useful and not too extravagant.

“Is this an Ombra tradition?” Brynn asked, gesturing to the crown of daisies on Evred’s head.

“This?” Evred pointed to the flowers and smirked. “No. I lost a wager to my sister.”

Brynn stopped herself from frowning. “A wager?”

Evred shrugged, good humor unabated. “Sisters.”

“Olfirth has Rowan’s silver,” Cenric said.

Olfirth was a respected, wealthy thane in Ombra and Evred was a warrior in his service. That was also why this wedding was being hosted in Olfirth’s hall. Brynn spied the old thane eyeing her husband from across the room.

Olfirth noticed Brynn watching him and raised his cup in salute. Brynn raised hers in response before sipping from her mead. It was sweet and crisp. Truly, Olfirth had provided the best for this wedding.

“What?” Evred’s brows rose in obvious surprise.

“I said Olfirth has agreed to hold the chest until you have a place for it,” Cenric repeated.

“What chest?” Evred shook his head. “What silver?”

Cenric blinked at him. “Rowan’s dowry.”

Evred glanced over his shoulder, but Rowan was at the center of a dance circle, twirling with her sisters and mother.

“Five hundred silver pennings,” Cenric explained. “That’s the amount I promised to Rowan when she left my household.”

Evred coughed. “How much?”

Cenric studied the other man. “You didn’t know?”

Evred scratched the back of his neck. “Rowan may have mentioned it, but I must have forgotten.”

Brynn herself had almost choked when she heard the amount, but Cenric was generous. That was one reason she loved him so much. She could hardly be surprised when he promised his former concubine almost a decade’s worth in wages to start her new life.

Cenric still seemed confused. “You decided to marry a woman and didn’t even ask about her dowry?”

Evred glanced to Rowan again. “Forgive me, lord. I didn’t.”

The young man was smitten and the whole shire knew it. Evred had ridden from Olfirth’s farm to Rowan’s family home every week over the winter. Not even the cold and the snow had been able to keep him away for long. Men and matrons had teased him while girls had sighed in envy.

Evred was a good man. Brynn could admit she was biased, since the thane had saved her from drowning last autumn.

All the same, Rowan was getting a husband who was respected and would make something of himself.

Not to mention he adored her. Despite the uneasy nature of the truce between Rowan and Brynn, Brynn was happy for her.

Brynn had married the first time out of duty and the second time out of desperation. A miserable marriage wasn’t something she’d wish on anyone.

“Well, go to your bride.” Cenric gestured toward Rowan. “I can see that’s where you want to be.”

Evred didn’t need to be told twice. He bowed to Cenric as befitted an alderman and bounded away.

Cenric sighed. “The fool is marrying for love.”

Brynn tried not to laugh at that. “Unlike you, who married for wealth and power.”

“Exactly,” Cenric replied, kissing her temple. “The important things.” He slid his arm around her waist, pulling her against him.

Brynn and Cenric might have fallen in love, but that had not been the basis of their marriage.

They’d both agreed to this match for practical reasons without ever meeting.

Brynn was a highborn sorceress with her own hefty dowry and Cenric was a man of suitable rank in the farthest corner of the kingdom.

The remainder of Brynn’s own dowry had arrived in wagons shortly after the roads thawed. Though most of it remained Brynn’s personal property, there had been a large sum gifted to Cenric. King Aelgar had made good on his promises.

The household boys had dug a trench to store the chests of silver and precious stones. The bridal hoard now lay buried outside the garden of Cenric and Brynn’s longhouse.

Which brought Brynn back to thoughts of kings and their gifts. Kingship was also like a whirlpool—it tended to drag everyone nearby into its current.

Ovrek had sent them a ship bearing gifts of exotic silk, silver drinking cups, and the pelt of a massive bear.

The bear’s phalanges and claws were still attached to the fur, each one almost the length of Brynn’s hand. Allegedly, Ovrek had killed the bear himself last summer.

It was not unusual for Hróarr, Cenric’s Valdari cousin, to visit.

Hróarr and his band of mercenaries often stopped in Ombra on their way up and down the Hyldish coast, between their homeland of Valdar and Kelethi where they worked as mercenaries.

Besides them, Ombra saw the occasional trader, but most Valdari were more interested in taking things by force in raids.

Why the gifts from Ovrek? They seemed like the sort of favors meant to impress. According to Cenric, these kinds of gifts had not come before.

As a youth, Cenric had cut his teeth in the armies of Ovrek’s conquest. Ovrek had later given him the men to retake Cenric’s home of Ombra several years ago.

But Ovrek was no longer Cenric’s king.

Cenric now gave his allegiance to Aelgar, Brynn’s uncle. Aelgar received the annual tribute of pigs, cattle, wool, and grain from Ombra. Aelgar held Cenric’s oaths of fealty.

The gifts had troubled Brynn since their arrival last week.

She knew next to nothing about what this Ovrek might want.

Cenric and his cousin Hróarr were always happy to tell her about their mentor, but she didn’t know enough to judge for herself.

All Brynn knew for certain was that Ovrek was a king and kings were dangerous.

Brynn’s own veins ran with the blood of at least two kings, more if one cared to look further back in her bloodline.

Her entire life she had felt the chains of her lineage locked around her neck.

Only recently had she broken free, marrying an upstart alderman as far away from the center of the kingdom as possible.

She’d escaped the plans of her mother and others to use her in their bids for power, at least for now. Perhaps it was paranoia, but Brynn felt as if she was being drawn into a new set of schemes.

“Is something wrong?” Cenric’s brow furrowed.

“No.” Brynn offered him a smile she didn’t feel. “I’ve just been thinking about Ovrek.”

“This again?” Cenric smoothed his thumb over her cheek.

“I know you think it was probably just a gesture of goodwill.” Brynn swallowed. “But what if he wants something in return?”

“If there is, I’m sure we’ll know soon enough.” Cenric sighed. “Ovrek never waits for long. But Morgi has sent me no foretelling of misfortune, so we are left to wait.”

Cenric’s patron, the goddess of nightmares and foretellings, sent him warnings in his dreams of tragedies and misfortunes. Morgi had saved his life, and Brynn’s life, with her warnings in the past. But just because Morgi remained silent did not mean there was no danger.

All the same, Cenric was right. There was nothing they could do tonight or until Ovrek revealed his intentions. They could hardly muster their thanes over gifts.

Anxiety gnawed at Brynn. Should she send word to her uncle? But no, she didn’t want to make it sound like her husband was accepting bribes from foreign kings.

Brynn did her best to quash her fears. “We should pay our respects to our host.”

“As you say.” Cenric folded her hand into his. “It will be fine, love.”

Brynn passionately hoped so.