Chapter 20
Twenty
SIMON
I t had been only four days since Feigrind left, and I was listless. It wasn’t just boredom. Maman kept me close during the day and kept my hands busy. It was more than that. I missed the stupid barbarian. Missed his touch, his body wrapped around mine as we slept. I missed the hovering. I never thought I’d ache for someone as much as I did for him, but the longer he took to get back, the more foul my mood was. How long did it take to do some trade? It shouldn’t be that hard.
Maman had finally had enough of my attitude and told me to go lie down because I was irritating her. I wasn’t in the mood for company anyway, so I did, despite it being so early. It didn't help; I couldn’t get any rest with Feigrind gone, but at least I wasn’t taking my mood out on others. I started snooping through Feigrind’s things, moving things around in a way I knew would irritate him later. He liked things a particular way and got annoyed with me when I made a mess. I was in the middle of unfolding all his clothes when I heard footsteps approaching the tent.
Something about these footsteps felt wrong to me. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe I recognized the stride of everyone in the clan, but I felt like none of them stomped around like great behemoths like those approaching me now. Barbarians were surprisingly light on their feet when they wanted to be. Not these. I grabbed my daggers automatically, keeping my stance low as I eyed the tent flap.
“Which one is the whore in?”
“That one.”
“Good. I will have him first. Revenge for my brother.”
“This was not the agreement,” another growled. They were stupid enough to think I couldn’t hear them? Or they didn’t actually care.
Either way, it was their mistake. I moved silently towards a corner of the tent, cutting a rip right along the seam. I would apologize to Feigrind later for that. I was certain he’d understand. Slipping out of the hole I created, I stayed crouched and glanced around. It was after sunset, only fires lighting up the village now. I considered the possibility that they were only sneaking in to nab me, but a scream closer to the village center proved me wrong. They were here to cause trouble. And I wasn’t going to let them get away with it.
“He’s not here!” a voice shouted inside Feigrind’s tent.
“Here. There’s a hole. I?—”
The idiot poked his head out, and I grinned wickedly at the vulnerable position this put him in. I sliced my blade across his neck, and he dropped immediately, choking on his own blood. Leaping over him, I moved to the tent entrance, waiting for the other speaker. He came out in a hurry, ready to attack. Too bad he didn’t expect me to be waiting for him. Stabbing him in the gut was effortless, and then he too got his throat cut.
I wasn’t sure how many were here. I hoped not their entire clan. When they’d visited last, the mass of them standing outside the clan looked like their numbers were greater than ours, at least that I’d seen in the past few days. We were also down several warriors thanks to the trade journey. I could run, maybe get away, but I couldn’t make myself do it. These people weren’t bad. They didn’t deserve this.
Chaos swept through the clan, and I saw familiar warriors battling with unfamiliar ones throughout the village. I crept toward the village center, staying out of sight. Maybe if I killed their leader, they’d back off. Cut the head off the snake, right?
I was getting closer when I heard a terrified cry from a tent nearby. I was going to ignore it—I couldn’t stop every fight—but Finn’s voice rang in my ears as he pleaded for them to stop.
“Please, no! Please!”
I knew that sound. That wasn’t what people said when they were about to be murdered. It was something much worse, in my opinion. I spun on my heel, heading for the larger tent with the light shining from inside. One look inside confirmed my suspicions. Finn was pinned on his stomach, his hands held behind his back and his pants down enough to expose him, tears streaming down his face. He fought as much as he could, but he was a little thing, and the barbarian wrestling with his own legwear was much larger.
Stepping into the tent would potentially trap me, so I tossed one of my daggers instead. I was an excellent shot, and it lodged in the barbarian’s skull, killing him instantly. Unfortunately, I didn’t expect him to fall forward, crushing Finn under his massive weight. Finn cried out, unaware that the barbarian was dead, and I dropped my head forward in defeat and entered the tent.
“Finn. Finn! Stop crying. He’s dead. I’m going to help you. Just—” I tried shoving the guy off, but he was enormous. “Give me your hand. I’m going to pull you out.”
It took some work, but he eventually wiggled free, sobbing with terror and relief. He clung to me for a moment, his whole body trembling, and I let him because I knew what it was like to be in that position, and I didn't judge him one bit for being scared.
“Pull up your pants,” I instructed, once he could breathe around his sobs. “Where’s your bondmate?”
“F-fighting,” he replied, hastily doing as I asked. It was hard for him, since his hands kept shaking, so I shoved them out of the way and tied up his pants for him, checking to make sure they weren’t torn in the back before going to the dead guy and removing the dagger from his head. It took some doing, I had to throw it hard to get through the side of the head like I had, and the sound it made when I removed it made my stomach turn. I ignored it, beckoning Finn to follow me.
“Come on.”
“Wh-where are we going?” he asked, tears still spilling down his cheeks.
“I’m going to the village center to see if I can kill the leader. You’re coming with me because I don’t trust you alone. After this is over, you need to pick some way to train to protect yourself. You can’t rely on other men to protect you all the time.”
It was wrong to scold him right after a trauma, but he needed to do better. No one should rely on others to protect them. It was one of the few lessons my mother ever taught me. That, and how to use daggers to keep myself safe. The lessons had saved my life more times than I could count.
Finn basically plastered himself against my back, still sniffling and whimpering quietly. I shushed him but didn’t force him to step away. I wasn’t that cruel. I snuck toward the village center again, this time with Finn behind me, and when we got there, I grimaced. Most of the fighting was here. I might be able to sneak through, but I couldn’t bring Finn into that mess.
“Where’s Patrick?” I hissed.
“H-he was with Yami when I left,” Finn whispered, pointing toward the tent I’d seen him in before. Nodding, I pushed Finn back and stuck to the shadows, leading him around the fighting and up the side of the cooking tent. I heard a clang, like a pan hitting something, and a thud, and my heart skittered in my chest. Dragging Finn with me, I rushed forward into the tent, skidding to a stop when I saw what was happening inside.
“Holy shit. That actually worked?”
Patrick stood over a fallen barbarian, a heavy pan in his hand that he’d obviously used to bludgeon the man. The older woman, Yami, was in a corner, with half a dozen little kids hiding behind her.
Patrick shrugged. “It was all I had. Are you two okay?”
Tugging Finn forward, I pushed him toward his friend. “He was attacked. He’s shaken up but ok. Keep him with you until his bondmate can get to him. I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?” Patrick demanded.
“To kill a barbarian,” I growled, marching out of the tent.
The asshole clan leader didn’t make it easy to find him. I thought he’d be in the fray, cutting down his enemies or whatever it was big men did when trying to show off. But he wasn’t in the village center like the rest of them. Not at first, anyway. I was going to go check on Maman and hopefully find some other enemy barbarian to question on the clan leader’s whereabouts when he came out of the tent I was brought to when I first arrived. Two big guys followed him, dragging Orthorr. He was unconscious, or dead. I couldn’t be sure. It was hard to see if he was breathing when they were dragging him around like that.
“Look around, Orthorr. See what you’ve made me do. If you’d done as you were told, I wouldn’t have to take over your clan.” He tsked. “I can’t feed this many mouths. Many will not survive the winter, all thanks to you.”
I ground my teeth, listening to his little speech. Typical macho man, putting the blame on the victim. I hated people like him. He looked like he was enjoying this way too much. And I knew just how to ruin his day.
“Hey, asshole!” I shouted, cutting through the noise of the clan. “I challenge you to a blood duel!”
We were standing far enough apart that most of the people fighting in the village center heard me. They shoved away from their opponents, looking to their leader to see what would happen next. I marched forward, ignoring the sneers and glares along the way. I stopped a good distance away, enough that he and anyone else couldn’t lunge at me and try to catch me by surprise. They wouldn’t get far. I was still armed and ready.
The asshole clan leader scoffed. “You are not a brother of the clan. You cannot challenge me.”
“What’s the matter?” I taunted. “Scared?”
Men like him hated any sort of insult to their manhood. And being afraid to fight someone like me, a whore half his size with what he thought was very little fighting experience, was definitely an insult.
“You think I’m scared of you, little whore? Do you know who you speak to?”
“Do you really think I care?” I countered. “All I see is a coward who sneaks into a village and attacks without warning because he knows he can’t take a clan without cheating somehow.”
His eyes widened, and he bared his teeth at me. “I am no cheat!”
I ignored him, continuing to pick at his pride. “Why is only part of your clan here? Did the rest not agree with your cheating ways and refuse to come? I could definitely see that happening. I know I wouldn’t waste my time following a coward like you.”
He took a step forward, almost shaking with anger now. Good. Angry men got sloppy. He’d make a stupid mistake eventually.
A shadow passed behind me and I ducked before the barbarian behind me could grab me. Using the move that seemed to stun most of the clan when I sparred with the angry scarred one, I sliced up the barbarian’s leg, straight to his groin. He dropped with a shout and I straightened again, raising my eyebrow at the clan leader. In the distance, I heard the clatter of hoof beats approaching at a fast pace. I seriously hoped that wasn’t backup for them. I might be able to fight one on one, but I wasn’t a warrior, and I didn’t belong in an actual battle.
“See? Cheats. I challenged you to a blood duel. Doesn’t seem fair that your little friends are trying to fight for you. Then again, maybe you really are too scared to face me. Do they fight all your battles for you?”
“You cannot challenge me!” he bellowed.
A stallion broke through the surrounding crowd and Feigrind launched himself off the animal, striding over to me.
“No. He can’t. I can. I challenge you, Feiskedr. Face me or give up your honor as a warrior and leave.”
“Try arguing with that, bitch,” I added with a sneer.