Chapter 8
Eight
SIMON
W e were heading back to the tent when someone jogged up to Feigrind, his expression foreboding. Before he even explained why, Feigrind’s entire demeanor changed. He swapped out the stoic man for something more fierce and warrior-like. It was the same expression he’d had when practicing with his friend earlier. Like he was ready for anything.
It was kind of hot, actually.
“The Fer’na clan is coming. They will be here by nightfall.”
Feigrind cursed under his breath. “Why do they approach? We have done nothing to them.”
The other warrior shook his head. “It is not known. But Orthorr wants us all to be there, just in case.” His gaze flicked to me for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Is there someone you trust with your tribute? Someone to keep him safe?”
That surprised me. I was sure it was widely known by now that I’d run twice and made their precious Finn cry. Why would they care what happened to me?
Feigrind looked down at me for a moment, worry overtaking his features. He cared too, despite all the trouble I’d caused him. These barbarians were either dumber than I thought, that I could so easily manipulate them, or the rumors about them being cruel were baseless. If they were cruel, they wouldn’t care so much.
“Where is Godr?”
The new barbarian’s brows snapped together. “In the field. Why? He is not a fighter.”
“No, but he is Rath’s brother. They were trained together. And I can’t leave Simon with Rath. Not after he hurt Finn. Godr is the next choice.”
I couldn’t ask what was happening, not without giving away that I understood them, so I only listened, a frown locked in place, like I was confused. Neither of them paid me much mind as they were discussing whether it was safer to bring me to the village center or stash me somewhere. I could’ve told them there wasn’t a chance I’d let them stash me anywhere, but I kept that to myself. Whoever they were sticking me with probably wasn’t as observant as Feigrind. I’d sneak away when I could to see what was happening.
Knowledge was power, after all. Maybe this other clan would bring me back home.
After the barbarian left to alert the other warriors, Feigrind gently took my elbow, leading me quickly but carefully through the tents to a fenced-off area on the opposite side of the forest. A field absolutely filled with enormous horses.
“Great Goddess,” I breathed, staring at them. They were bigger than any horse I’d ever seen, with hooves as big as my face and muscles that matched the man next to me. I’d caught glimpses of them on the journey, but with my face being covered with the bag in the beginning and spending the rest of the trip in a covered carriage, I didn’t truly get to experience their size until just now.
Feigrind didn’t hear my exclamation. He called out to someone in the field, waving them over. The barbarian who joined us had long dark hair, the back pulled into two braids over his shoulders, shaved on the sides, with a bun on top. It was an interesting mixture, to be sure. He wasn’t as wide as the other barbarians, but he made up for it in speed as he jogged across the field. He was damn fast.
“Feigrind, my brother! You called for me?”
“Godr. I need a favor. The Fer’na clan is coming. I need you to watch over Simon.”
Godr glanced at me and back at Feigrind again. “Whatever you need. Is there to be trouble?”
Feigrind shook his head. “We do not know. But they are coming without much warning. They will be here by nightfall.”
The barbarian’s eyebrows flew up so fast, it was almost comical. “That’s… soon. And worrisome. Where is Rath? I will join him in case Finn needs to be moved as well.”
Ugh. I had to concentrate really hard on not making a face. Why was it always about that guy?
“He will probably be in the village center. But…” He shot me a quick look before turning back to Godr. “Keep a sharp eye. Simon has been… difficult.”
That didn’t seem to surprise Godr that much. He just chuckled. “Your tributes are all the same. Do not worry. I will keep an eye on him. All tributes like the stallions. We will stay here until supper, and then I will ask Rath where we should go.”
Feigrind dipped his chin in acknowledgement before turning his focus onto me. He put his hands in a staying motion, then pointed to the ground at our feet. “Stay with Godr. I must go.”
Staring blankly at him, I didn’t give him anything. He took that as a good sign and took a few slow steps back, like he was checking if I’d run. I wasn’t going to do that, I didn't have a death wish, but I wasn’t going to tell him that right now. I just enjoyed how stupid he looked as he walked backwards and stared at me until he was out of sight.
I saw several other barbarians with swords running in the same direction he did. I had no idea why they were so worried about this clan visiting, but it put me on guard. Maybe the rumors weren’t unfounded after all.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to sneak off to find out what was happening. Godr brought me to the village center for supper just like he said and conferred with someone he called Rath. I recognized him as Finn’s bondmate. He was decked out in weapons, a fierce scowl on his face, and his bondmate plastered against his side. Finn wore a similar outfit to the rest of the barbarians, including a necklace they all seemed to share with a circular medallion on his chest. The outfit didn’t really help him fit in, but it was better than what I was wearing. My lounge clothes were starting to look grimy, and I hated it. I wished I had something to change into that was more… substantial than this. At least it was better than the silks I wore while working, but not by much.
I wasn’t entirely sure of the clan's size, but it felt like a good deal of the clan was there. The barbarians were all crowded around the fire, all armed. They murmured amongst themselves, the tension in the air so thick you could cut through it with a sword. The ones missing were the older clan members and women with children. And the other tributes. All except me.
Should I be happy about that? Or pissed?
I didn’t have time to decide before I heard the thundering of hooves in the distance. It was barely loud enough to be heard over the noises of the clan, but one by one, the barbarians fell silent, listening.
“Rath…” Finn whispered uncertainly.
“Be at ease, kolrav. You are safe,” the barbarian murmured back, cupping Finn’s head against his chest. My irritation with him softened minutely. If I had that kind of affection regularly, would I give up my town and my family to keep it? Even at the expense of all the males in the country?
I didn’t know. I’d never had anything like that before.
“Warriors. On guard,” a familiar older man barked. The clan leader, Orthorr, I realized. He stood near the fire with a pensive expression. All the warriors, Feigrind included, straightened and faced the direction of the noise. My eyes locked on the barbarian. My supposed protector. What would happen to me if he got hurt? Would the next protector be so patient? Or would I end up with someone like the one in the forest? It was possible this situation could get much, much worse.
I would not admit even to myself that I was worried for my protector. I wouldn’t.
Not everyone in the new clan came into the center to join us. I could see a massive group of them just outside the circle of the village, a few holding torches to banish some of the shadows. Only about ten came into the village proper, including an older one who looked like the clan leader if I had to make a guess. He slid off his horse and swaggered up to Orthorr, like he had every right to be there. Ugh. I couldn’t stand cocky men like that.
“Orthorr! Greetings, brother!”
Orthorr’s expression was terse but polite. “Feiskedr. Blessings upon your travels. To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“Trade, of course,” the cocky man stated. “And maybe a look at your tributes. Ours were decidedly lacking this round.”
I stiffened at the way he said that. And I didn’t miss the past tense in that sentence. They were ? What happened to them that he wasn’t saying “are”?
“Trade, we can offer. But our tributes already have protectors.”
Feiskedr didn’t look happy about the immediate rebuff he got from Orthorr. Annoyance flashed across his features before he wiped it away and plastered on his cocky grin again.
“I’m sure we can discuss it. After all, they have not met us yet. They could prefer us.”
I didn’t need to know the rest of the tributes to know they wouldn’t go willingly with these guys. They embodied the rumors told about barbarian clans in every town within riding distance. I scanned over the group, studying their expressions. There wasn’t a kind-looking one in the bunch. And when I reached the one on the end, my brows furrowed. Had I seen him before?
Either way, this was not a place I wanted to be. If they noticed I was out here and not with my protector or something, they might try to take me. That had happened to me once already. I wasn’t letting it happen again.
While Godr and the others were focused on the newcomers, I slipped away and headed for Feigrind’s tent. I couldn’t get in trouble for returning to where I was supposed to be. And I’d rather relax in bed than tempt a shady group of barbarians. I ducked into the tent, taking a moment to light the lantern before sitting down to get comfortable. I heard noises, but no screams or shouts, so I assumed everything was fine.
I should’ve known better than to make assumptions after my life was turned upside down.
I was just getting comfortable and considering going to sleep early when the tent flap rustled. My eyes opened, expecting to see Feigrind there, and my heart faltered when I saw who stood there instead.
He leered at me with great interest. “I thought I recognized you. How profitable is this clan that they can hire a whore for an entire season?”
“I am not for hire,” I growled, sitting up. “I have a protector.”
He scoffed at me. “Lies. They would not take a whore as a tribute. Not even this pathetic little clan is that desperate. Do not play coy with me. I requested your service the last time I was in your town. You were claimed by another for the night. I will get my turn now.”
Over my dead body.