Chapter Three #2
A storm of anger seemed to rise up within her and she yelled, ‘It concerns me, Usurper! Astra is my heir!’
Beske chose that moment to grumble, ‘Kill the bitch and take the child! She will be a good enough hostage for now!’
Agnar had had his fill of Beske. His gaze met Skadi’s and then, without hesitation, he twisted his body and plunged his sword into the man’s abdomen. As smooth and as quick as the strike of an adder.
The man inhaled one shocked gasp and then began to gargle phlegm, his eyes bulging before rolling back.
Then his body dropped towards the ground, the knees buckling, the dead weight of him slipping the sword free with a wet slither.
He fell with an undignified thud flat on his face. A just end to a corrupt man.
Skadi stared down at Beske’s body in horror, the blood draining from her face. ‘You would kill your own men?’
‘I would do much worse than that.’ Better she meets the beast now and understands what he is truly capable of.
As usual, Agnar felt nothing at Beske’s death, no pity or shame… Nothing. He had killed so many men over the years that their deaths did not rattle him.
It was a convenient kill that simply served his purpose.
He knew that Skadi had fought occasionally against petty chieftains who thought to raid Thrudheim.
So she must have seen men killed in battle, or even by accident.
A man could die in a drunken challenge, or at one of the many feasts throughout the year.
But Skadi looked at him now as if he were a monster, for dispatching a man who had been an obvious threat to her… How odd.
But perhaps he could use her fear of him against her?
The continued banging at the door forced him to decide.
‘I always keep my word,’ he said absently, lowering his sword without bothering to clean it, allowing it to stain the floor with its ugly paint. ‘I told him that he would regret it if he spoke again… He did.’
Another bang reverberated from the front of the hall, this one louder than before—perhaps they had a cart now?
He stared her down. ‘I want my birthright. I want what I was promised. But more than anything… I want power.’ His eyes met hers and the green serpent swirled within him—it was the rage and vengeance that had always kept him company.
She shivered, obviously repulsed by him, and glanced back towards her child.
You created this monster, now look! He wanted to scream, but he held his tongue. He had waited twenty years for this moment, he could wait a few heartbeats longer. Especially when her fate was already certain.
‘Astra will come to no harm,’ he said firmly. ‘I swear it.’
Her eyes flew back to his and she shook her head. ‘I do not believe you.’
He could understand her doubt. All men wanted heirs, a legacy to pass on to their own bloodline after death.
But he did not… He wanted what he’d been promised and he wanted power, so that no one could ever harm him, or the people he cared for, ever again…
and revenge, not for himself, but for his mother, he wanted that, too.
He was so thirsty for power and revenge that he would put aside anything to gain it. Including children and happiness. Bloodlines did not matter to him, but he knew they mattered to Skadi.
They were his best weapon against her.
‘If you marry me, I will name Astra as my heir and she will remain my heir unless we have a son together. Either way, your bloodline will continue to rule this island,’ he said firmly, then he pulled at the cord of leather around his throat, yanking it so hard it snapped from his neck.
He held it out to her, so that she could see it more clearly.
It was a wedding ring, a silver band of intricate knotwork that shone in the firelight. He had kept it for this moment. ‘I swear it, on my mother’s ring.’
There was another bang at the hall doors. Some of his men began to shift nervously.
Skadi gestured with her chin towards the doorway, but he’d seen the curiosity in her gaze when she’d looked at the ring. It was meant to be hers, had always belonged to her in his mind. ‘My men will break through and they will kill you all!’
Agnar laughed, throwing his head back with a false throaty chuckle. The men joined him, chuckling lightly, the tension in their bodies easing as if soothed by his confidence.
As his head dipped forward again to meet her eyes, his smile fell and his voice dropped into a deadly warning, ‘Believe me, you do not want that to happen, my Queen. It would leave me with only one choice.’ Deliberately he let his gaze shift towards the sea chest and the two people hiding behind it.
The child was no longer visible, the servant must have told her to huddle down.
But he didn’t need to see Skadi’s daughter to make his intentions clear.
When he looked back at Skadi, he saw her confidence had drained away and all that was left was a mother’s fear.
He knew that look well. He had seen it on his mother’s face countless times and he felt no sympathy for Skadi because of it.
Her actions had brought her to this moment and she was bound to him forever.
It was fate and neither of them could deny it.
Skadi tried to bargain with him. ‘There is another path. You could leave Thrudheim and never return. I will not tell Sven that you came here. I will not demand retribution for Heimdall. Go back to the Rus and live in peace.’
His smile tasted bitter on his lips. He did not smile often and it didn’t sit well with him. Just like his next words, even though he spoke honestly, ‘I will have all or nothing. Make your choice, Skadi.’
She growled at him through gritted teeth, but refused to answer. She was waiting, hoping for her men to break through.
Hope was a dangerous thing.
He knew he couldn’t look away from her. Couldn’t have her doubt him for a single moment. He had killed Beske in front of her to prove the conviction of his word. But it still wasn’t enough…she still had hope.
His plan was despicable. Corrupt. The words of a dishonourable and cruel man.
But he had never claimed to be good and life was never fair.
He had fought for too long and suffered far too much to give up now. He would have her as his Queen, whether it was by deceit or cruelty, he did not care.
He would have her.
Stepping forward, he slowly raised his sword. ‘If you do not accept, or delay any longer…the child dies.’