Chapter 13 Brynn #5
“Let’s go.” Hróarr headed into the trees, seeming to know which way he was going.
Brynn scrambled after him. Cold, wet, tired, and hungry, she wasn’t sure what would come next, but hopefully, they could make King Ovrek see reason.
The walk back to Istra was far shorter than it had been in the dark. Brynn followed Hróarr quietly. Neither of them spoke. Guin padded along at Brynn’s heels, every so often glaring back in the direction of the monsters.
Brynn wondered if she was being led to her death. Would Ovrek kill her?
Back in Hylden, murder called for payment to the victim’s family. The blood price or blodgild was determined by the victim’s age and standing within the family.
Valdari repaid blood with blood.
A rock settled deep in Brynn’s stomach. She wasn’t ready to die. For the first time in a long time, she had been happy. She wanted to live with Cenric for many years yet.
They shambled into Istra as the sun was past its zenith. Voices were raised and people ran to and fro. Something had happened.
“What’s going on?” Brynn demanded, looking to Hróarr. “What are they saying?”
The mercenary didn’t bother to curse or glare at her, which told her how serious it was. “Someone has tried to murder Ovrek.”
Brynn gulped. “Tolvir?” It seemed logical. The atheling had been upset enough to kill her. Perhaps he was grieved enough to attack his own father.
“What?” Hróarr cast her a sharp look.
“Nothing.” Brynn took in the people rushing back and forth. No one seemed to have noticed that they had returned. “Where is Cenric?”
“I’ll find him,” Hróarr assured her. “And my men, too, but first…” He motioned her after him.
Brynn went meekly. She buzzed with worry for Cenric and Esa. Brynn’s chest seemed to be filled with a swarm of bees.
People ran in all directions. It was either fear or excitement, it was hard for her to tell. Perhaps a bit of both.
Hróarr took her along a shortcut to the king’s complex behind the thrall huts. They reached a large pit, deeper than the height of a man and sheer along the sides. The stench of human excrement came from below.
Brynn dared to look down, noticing what appeared to be the remains of scraps and other trash, though not very much of it. Was this a midden heap?
A hard shove sent Brynn toppling over the edge, into the pit. She landed on the dirt below, gasping as the air rushed out of her lungs.
Rolling onto her back, she saw Hróarr at the edge, glaring down. He had pushed her in.
“Hróarr?” Brynn croaked, gasping as betrayal lanced through her. Brynn cast about, searching for a way out, but there was none. It seemed that the only way out was to have a rope lowered down and Hróarr had just shoved her in.
Guin let off a howl of protest. She barked at Hróarr, lunging for his boots. The puppy attacked him with a vengeance, snarling and biting.
The mercenary backed away from the edge, out of sight. He cursed at the puppy, trying to get her off him from the sound of it.
Brynn wanted to yell after him, but she didn’t have the breath. She had risked her life to save him from the monsters, and this was how he repaid her?
“Hróarr!” a familiar voice cried. He spoke in hurried Valdari. Was that…?
Other voices came from overhead. From the ka, there seemed to be a crowd of people headed this way, but they were outside Brynn’s line of sight.
Brynn pushed herself onto her elbows. “Cenric?” Her cry was lost in the cacophony chattering above. “Cenric…” Brynn was tired and aching and felt like a fool. Everything had gone wrong and even the things that had gone right had bitten her in the back after all.
Several warriors appeared, dragging two bloodied and battered men between them.
From their clothes, the two captives must be important.
Their silver arm rings, embroidered clothing, and fur-trimmed mantles hinted at wealth.
One was older with scars slashing through his beard and one was younger and taller.
The two men were hurled headlong into the pit.
The unfortunate prisoners had even harder landings than Brynn. The older man seemed to splatter into the ground and laid still. Was he dead? The younger rolled onto his side in the mud, groaning and speaking in stilted Valdari.
Brynn was now trapped with the two criminals. Fear spiked through her. She could probably defend herself from these strangers but to be trapped down here with them? For Eponine knew how long? “Cenric!” Brynn wasn’t even sure what she hoped he would do. All she knew was that she needed him.
Faces appeared over the edge of the pit. Young men with arm rings and braided beards. Warriors from Ovrek’s household. They spat down, but not at her, at the two captives.
Brynn wondered if she had imagined Cenric’s voice. Or, worse, if he had ignored her.
Then his outline came into view overheard. Even with the sun at his back, she recognized his silhouette. “Brynn!” He scrambled to the edge of the pit, crouching down.
Brynn took in the sight of him, relief flooding her chest. At least he was safe.
The next instant, Cenric whirled away from her. “Hróarr!” he roared, followed by a string of furious Valdari.