52. Avina
52
AVINA
December 23rd, Year 100, 9th Era
Outside Blackwood Inn, Salt Province
A vina slides over the embankment beside the forest. She clutches her trembling hands to her chest as her hot breath fogs around her.
After all Sigvid and Helga did to help me escape with the Stones, I must not fail!
As the Salt and Ridge guards drag Sigvid to the Toftlund gate, she watches with bated breath. Once the soldiers are out of sight, she adjusts course through the woods surrounding Blackwood. Her feet stumble over the heavy snow as sweat trickles over her temples.
Helga is dead. They captured Prince Sigvid.
Derailing her life has been a focus of Thrain and her father for years now. This situation has spiraled into a debacle. Watching the only man she has ever loved hauled away to the dungeons to keep her hidden and safe is enough.
I need to be the one to fix everything. First, I must find a Drengr of the inner circle. Which leaves me with Slode or Kar.
Avina collapses against a tree trunk to catch her breath, burning in her throat. Down the hill, the city's twinkling lights taunt her through the evening darkness.
Should I go straight to Slode? He will not allow his oldest friend to suffer. And he is likely with Bertie.
She jogs through the underbrush until she reaches a rarely used gate along the city wall—no sentinels patrol the ramparts, raising the hairs along the back of her neck.
Where are the soldiers? Could this be a trap set by her father? Or has Thrain redirected his warriors to another purpose?
Where does Slode live? I don’t have time to scour the town for him. Who else can I go to?
Two waning torches barely illuminate the gate carved with repeating images of ravens and intertwined serpents. With a silent prayer to Maeve, who she at least knows is paying attention, she pulls against the heavy gate. She groans against the weight and is shocked when the giant door gives way, allowing her to slip into the city undetected.
She clutches the nautilus shell around her neck, thanking the gods for the combined power of the Stones.
She finds the streets deserted. Not that it matters much with her invisibility. The shrouded darkness of the evening could signify the lack of foot traffic, yet something else tugs at the back of her mind.
“Back to your post!” A raspy voice echoes across the way.
She leaps behind an evergreen shrub while a uniformed soldier yells at a younger man dressed in the matching livery of a Salt warrior.
“The Queen hasn’t been through here. Why would she be dumb enough to enter the city?” The younger man objects.
“King Thrain is certain she will attempt to save the Prince. We must deliver her to the King unharmed.”
“She has invisibility powers. How will we find her?”
Father! She curses him for sharing her ability.
“Watch for anything out of place. The Queen will not abandon the Lord Commander.”
The men dissipate, leaving Avina shaking like a leaf. A rescue plan begins forming in her head, but she needs more axes than her own–well, more trained arms to wield the axes.
Grim can help me, but is he still at the pub or the brothel? There is Kar. Ugh, I don’t want to appeal to Kar. I think he still blames me for the war.
Still, she knows if Sigvid were in her place, he would ally with his worst enemy to rescue Avina. She resignedly sighs as she darts through the city's shadows until she reaches Kar’s home and their yellow front door. She sneaks around to the back and through the rear entrance directly into the kitchen.
The space is quiet, unlike before, and the children are likely dreaming already. Only Kar sits at a long, worn table, sipping a horn of ale while his wife, Ingirid, massages his shoulders.
“Hello, Kar.” Avina allows the invisibility to melt away, revealing herself to the couple, who jump, swinging curses at her sudden appearance.
“Ah, fuck! What is this?” Kar demands, standing to his full imposing height. “What are you doing in my house?”
“Thrain and my father took Sigvid. And Helga,” she swallows thickly, unsure if she can repeat the horror she witnessed, “Thrain murdered Helga.”
A lump catches in her throat. Realizing the shieldmaiden served Thrain sexually, all while secretly reporting back to Sigvid, made her somehow understand the woman even if she will never fathom the affection for the other Thordsson brother.
His eyes widen, and he grips the table for support. “Lock the doors, dear, and board up all the windows. Wake up Lod and Arnor. Tell the boys to ready themselves.”
“Thrain controls the Salt Army. None of the warriors thought twice about apprehending Sigvid.”
“You mentioned your father?”
“He brought at least some Ridge troops who surrounded Blackwood. I am developing a plan, but I need more axes.” She approaches him, her chin held up high.
He scoffs, snagging his horn from the iron stand on the table and draining the contents in one gulp. “I don’t need your help, Your Highness.”
Avina withdraws one of her axes and slams it into the wooden grains of the table. “You and the other Salt generals hardly stood a chance against me during the war. Considering our differences, you may not like your Lord Commander’s affection toward me, but you know my Stone powers can save him. You need my mind, Kar.”
“Father?” Lod and Arnor appear in ruffled tunics, trousers stuffed into muddy boots.
Kar ignores Avina. “Lod, bring Slode here. Arnor, locate Grim Woods in the Shield and Anchor tavern. I don’t care if he is fucking one woman or five, we need him urgently. Boys,” he jabs a finger at both of them, “Discreetly bring them straight here.”
The boys nod and then leave through the back door. Kar pulls out a chair at the table for her to sit.
“Alright, Bloodstone.” He takes the opposite seat with focused energy. “What’s your plan?”
She sighs in relief. “We have a long night.” She settles into the chair while Ingirid sets cups of tea before them.
“I need parchment, a quill, and ink. It is time to summon my troops.”
January 11th, Year 100, 9th Era
Cabin in the Woods, Salt Province
S ince the night Thrain and her father seized her warrior from her, the sky has refused to shift from a dreary gray. Even the bright snowfall, which has a way of lifting her spirits, yields to a whistling wind through the forest.
She has hardly slept or eaten in the days since her Prince’s imprisonment.
Is he still alive?
Has Thrain broken him?
Her plot to rescue Sigvid keeps her body churning through the short days and endless nights.
Their side has more to consider than just rescuing the Prince of Salt, a sentiment Kar was quick to remind her about when her focus quickly narrowed to only her Beast.
Kar’s scout intelligence revealed enough evidence to suspect Thrain would sacrifice the people of Toftlund to keep his brother locked in the dungeons. His exact plan is unclear, but none are willing to risk Thrain’s plan.
After a few days, she snuck back into Blackwood and removed Nellie, Carrot Chubbs, Reef, and Nautilus to Sjoby to keep their animals safe. In the tiny hamlet, they join an unhappy, desperate-for-attention Frida and a stir-crazy, knife-wielding Thora. A local farmer who lives far from Toftlund and the path the armies would take temporary custody of his farm animals.
I will relax once my troops arrive in Salt.
A thick white wolf pelt wraps around Avina’s shoulders, fending off the cold she hardly heeds anymore. The Timber Army should arrive any day.
In preparation, she has spent much of the last two days pacing before the hearth of the hunting cabin Sigvid had once ravaged her inside. Unlike before, she, Bertie, and Grim have turned it into a livable space.
The Drengr spend much of their time silently evacuating the city to alleviate any leverage Thrain has over their people. With Salt and Ridge guards crawling the roads looking for Avina, she is swiftly sidelined, unable to take a more active hand in operations.
A reality that tears her apart at the seams.
“Shadow!” Bertie bursts through the front door of the cabin with a wide smile. The recent fuzz on his usually clean-shaven face still seems out of sorts. “They are here.”
Her lips twist into a smile, and she tails him into the cold afternoon air. She mounts Sigvid’s horse, Hest, and they ride hard along the deer trail through the blackwood forest.
Her heart thuds at the prospect of seeing her generals again. Will they think less of their Queen for allowing the Beast to seize her back to Salt? They may have agreed to join forces to save Treland from Thrain’s power grab, yet that did nothing to signal their support for Avina .
Instead, she focuses on the rhythmic beat of their horses' hooves pounding through the thick snow filling the underbrush.
It’s hard to imagine Hest is the same horse she was tied up on the back of by Finn almost three months ago. Sigvid had rescued her in the nick of time, even when he considered her an enemy.
Will she be as punctual? Will she save him before Thrain’s torture either ends or breaks him?
She gasps when they leave the protection of the dark canopies to ride into a vast field of canvas tents. Leading Timber is not enough to desensitize her to the sheer size of the twenty-thousand-strong army that rushes about constructing their encampment along the western slope of Fjell Mountain.
As Lord Commander, Sigvid commanded roughly two hundred fifty Drengr and an additional fifteen thousand troops in the Salt Army. Unfortunately, his Salt troops now fell under the control of King Thrain. Of course, this was after he condemned Sigvid as a traitor to the crown, province, and country.
Once the remaining Ridge troops arrive for her father, the seven thousand fighters would be at Thrain’s disposal.
They are only slightly outnumbered.
She and Bertie ride toward a giant tent in the sea of gawking warriors. All who caught a glimpse of their Queen bow respectively.
“I thought Timber hated you?” Bertie asks as another group sweeps into a low bow.
“Thanks, cousin.” She spits sarcastically.
“No,” he shakes his head, “I mean, I thought everyone was cruel to you.”
“Only the nobles and the entirety of the Manchineel family hold such disdain.” And the Manchineels are cross for their centuries-old grudge against her Redwood bloodline.
Seeing her people look up at her with reverence stirs something in the pit of her stomach—a familiar urge to protect and serve those without a voice.
She dismounts before the enormous general’s tent and barely takes another step when a bear shaped like a man accosts her from behind .
“Oh, my Queen!” A booming voice vibrates her bones as the colossal man with black, thick hair wraps his arms around her.
“General Tyo, it has been too long.” She strains as she fights against his strangling grasp.
He ushers her inside the tent, where nothing but smiles from her Timber generals greet Queen Avina. And one suspicious glower from Kar.
He has been consistently on edge after Grim rode east to deliver her order to Timber. He fears the wooded province will take Salt’s weakness as an opportunity to strike against them.
“We were thrilled to receive your letter and know you are alive, Your Majesty.” General Elsrith stands the shortest among them with braided pink hair.
“Thank you all for your prompt response. I apologize for being away.” Avina nibbles her bottom lip to keep from speaking.
What else is she to tell the Timber generals of her absence? How can she justify her relationship with the man who has cost the lives of hundreds of good Timber soldiers?
“Hey, everyone! I'm terribly sorry I was gone for weeks. I fell in love with and embarked on a journey of sexual discovery with my enemy. I hope my orders still count, considering Salt seed defiled my womanhood.”
“We had word that the Salt Prince took you captive.” One of the older generals–whose name escapes her–questions with a side glance at Kar.
Avina cannot help herself. “What did you hear about my disappearance?”
Tyo flops comfortably into a chair large enough for three men. “Interest in the enemy Commander, bribing guards, dumping excessive gold,” he waves his hands dismissively as if her behavior were normal, perhaps even expected, “the usual spiraling out after a successful war. No judgment. I bribed seventeen guards after my first battle. They caught me urinating at a brewery in a vat of freshly made ale.”
Avina cringes; the image is far too vivid.
“Anyway, you had barely been missing for a week when Samson sent that shithead Ives to bring you back. He suspected you may have fled.” Elsrith hisses, having no love loss for Samson.
Fled? Quite an assumption for the Duke to have made when Sigvid openly dragged me from the Arena naked.
“We knew you would never have abandoned Timber.” Elsrith smiles softly. “When we got news of your engagement to Thrain, we did think something was amiss.”
“Elsrith and I gathered men and were prepared to liberate you from the Salt brothers, who were forcing you to share their beds. However, the Council of all things forced our hands. They said to let the marriage go as planned.” Tyo strokes his beard with a snarl.
Of course, they did. Father manipulated them all along against me, using Sigvid to dispose of Rendel and marry me off to Thrain.
It all made her head spin.
“My letter must have confirmed your suspicions.” Avina steps around them to view the war table, a map of the Holy Triangle already drawn up as requested. They remained a few day's rides from the center of Treland, but strategizing can begin now.
“We are here, aren’t we?” Tyo grumps with the hint of a smile.
“I cannot express my relief at your presence.” She places a hand on either end of the map and then meets each of their gazes. “I suppose I should tell you how we arrived at this point…”
Everyone sits around the war table while she regales them with the story of the Arena, Thrain’s transgressions, the gods, and the stones.
“He fell in love with you. After everything.” Elsrith's swoons have Avina blushing.
“Yeah, all well and good, except he got himself jailed by that toad of a man.” One of the old generals scoffs.
“The fate of all Treland is at stake.” Avina interrupts before they dive down another rabbit hole. “We must free Prince Sigvid and then lure the troops to the Holy Triangle, the center point of the country, to keep Toftlund safe. There, we must stop Thrain and my father. We cannot allow them to seize control of the country.”
General Tyo nods. “We move on your command, my Queen.”
“Good.” Kar stands, cracking his neck. “Now, for the next phase of the plan.”
The Timber Army is left to establish camp while Tyo, Elsrith, and forty Timber soldiers ride with an invisible Avina back toward Toftlund. The Drengr, under Kar and Slode, are instructed to remain out of sight for her plan to work.
A prospect that has her excited and on edge.
As they approach the main gates of Toftlund, the poor lookout turns pale at the sudden appearance of Timber troops. They ride until they are close enough that Tyo’s bellow will reach the sentries, yet far enough from Thrain’s unstable archers.
“Oi! You there! We require an audience with King Thrain Thordsson.” General Tyo raises a thick brow at the sentinels.
The group collectively stumbles about along the ramparts to warn their king of the sudden appearance of the small force assembled.
“Nervous little things, are they not?” Elsrith chuckles.
Avina suspects Thrain recalled the Salt Army away for training as they search for a new Commander. She also wonders how many will dissent to their side once Sigvid is free.
Finally, the sound of the chains along the gate draws their attention—Thrain, Gunter, and a small battalion ride out to meet the Timber warriors. Avina hears Elsrith snort when the flag bearer nearly drops the Nautilus banner.
“Thrain appears awfully cocky for someone about to confront the might of the Timber army.” Elsrith quips to a chorus of laughter
When the Salt warriors stop, Thrain leans over his horse's neck with a charming smile. “A bit far from Scarwood, General Tyo. After my brother was captured and sent to the Arena, I thought to be done with you miserable bastards. All the same, what can I do for Timber?”
Tyo unfurls a scroll. “By order of the Council of Timber, Generals of the Great Forest, and good people of the wooded Province, King Thrain Thordsson of Salt is hereby placed on notice. You have exactly one week to release the beloved Queen Avina Redwood Bloodstone back to Timber, or the Great Army will launch an attack on Toftlund City.”
Thrain sneers. “Your Great Army slimmed after the war with Rendel, General Tyo. The Grand Champion of the Arena trained my men.”
Avina grinds her teeth. How dare he use Sigvid’s prowess as a scare tactic.
Tyo’s face cools as he snaps his thumb and forefinger together, and two of his men drag a Salt scout to Thrain.
“Your warrior will surely be eager to relay that the entire Timber Army camps due north of the city. We will move closer over several sun shifts, encircling your city.” Tyo adds to Thrain’s visible fury.
“Your Queen was brought to my city by my brother, who I have since imprisoned for his crimes. As my fiancé, I expect her to be brought straight to me.” Thrain hisses.
Elsrith cackles. “You mean to say you have lost Her Majesty? How did you manage that?”
Thrain’s face tinges purple. “Your superiority complex is not welcome, Elsie. I have every available man searching for Queen Avina as we speak.”
His last comment causes everyone around Avina to whoop with laughter. She presses her lips together to prevent herself from joining in.
Thrain violently gestures for his men to follow him inside, determined to understand what is happening.
She knows he isn’t dumb enough to believe Timber came of their own fruition. Likely, his next plan will be to lure her out.
She releases the invisibility upon herself as they trot back toward the encampment.
“I never liked him the few times I met him. Something is unnerving about his face,” Elsrith asserts in unanimous agreement.
If only the General knew the truth of her statement.
Avina takes her leave toward the cabin. Tomorrow, they will save their Lord Commander.
W hen Avina emerges onto the hunting cabin's deck, owls hoot in the trees overhead. Sitting on the deck always comforts her despite the frigid winter chill.
She hears the creak of the front door yet doesn’t flinch. Slode and Bertie are holding a small party inside, no longer hiding their evident affection .
“Careful, or you may catch a chill.” Kar leans against the railing.
“The cold hardly bothers me anymore.” She whispers, her gaze settling on the starlight. They will free him tomorrow, and she can rest at night knowing he is safe.
“What you did for Helga was honorable.” Kar’s gruff tone held a hint of reverence, even if he disagreed with nearly everything Avina suggested.
After she instructed Grim to deliver the letter of request for arms to Timber, she commanded them to withdraw Helga’s body at axe point with the guards who now ransack Blackwood. They held a proper funeral for her along one of the cliffs away from the city. She pledged that once they disposed of Thrain, they will have a formal ceremony honoring Helga’s contributions to Salt and Treland.
“After spying on Thrain for years, it feels unjust that she would die at his hands.” She glances up at Kar, whose expression remains impassive.
“Would you die for our Lord Commander?” He asks without glancing her way.
“Of course-”
“Would you die for your people? Those of Timber, Ridge, and Salt?”
“Yes, of course-”
“Helga was no different–prepared to die for the cause she believed in because of the man whose legendary prowess instilled faith within her. Even if she did hold affection for Thrain, was it just or unjust,” he shrugs, “I cannot answer that, nor can you. We are not the gods and lack their vision of our greater purpose.”
“Deep sentiment for you, Kar.”
His gaze falls on her. “Watching you with the people of Salt over the last few weeks has been enlightening. You are a true Queen. And I had my reservations about you considering the war. But you are good for Sigvid. You balance him. But,” he seems begrudging of his praise, “you are also a benevolent and just leader.”
“Thank you, Kar. That means-”
He holds up a hand, stopping her gratitude. “I am still a Salt warrior, through and through. We show in action more in words. ”
Kar grips her upper arm and pulls her from her seat. He steers her off the deck, away from the cabin and toward the Guardian Mausoleum.
“What is it?” she asks, worried they will venture too close to the city and be caught. His silence unnerves her more than his tugging her through the forest.
When they crest the final ridge to approach the mausoleum, he redirects them to a gully in the forest. Her upper back tenses at the sight before them. Ahead are no less than two hundred men and women clustering in the orange glow of the lanterns set at their feet.
As they approach, she realizes they are all Drengr, including newly pledged.
“What is this?” She turns to Kar once they stand before them.
“My Queen,” he unsheaths his axe, “you have proven your prowess as a war strategist. Many of us fought against you in the war with Timber, only for you to shock us with your ability to surprise our Lord Commander. The board is set, and the pieces ready for a swift battle for control of Treland.”
Kar slices his palm and takes a knee. His bloodied hand smears across his axe blade and then rests against his heart.
“I, Kar Vigotsson, swear fealty, even in death, to my Lady Commander Avina Bloodstone Redwood.”
Her breath catches in her throat. Oh, my Goddess .
“I accept your pledge, Kar Vigotsson.” Her voice wavers.
He stands, and Grim replaces his spot.
“I, Grim Woods, swear fealty, even in death, to my Lady Commander Avina Bloodstone Redwood.”
“I accept your pledge, Grim Woods.” She feels herself filled with rare pride amidst their pledges.
He stands, and Slode replaces him. He and Grim must have followed us.
“I, Slode Dagsson, swear fealty, even in death, to my Lady Commander Avina Bloodstone Redwood.”
“I accept your pledge, Slode Dagsson.”
These blood oaths do not replace Sigvid as leader of the Drengr. Instead, they place her in an honorary role. All these men and women know they must take command from Avina in the coming days, either in the plan to save Sigvid or on the battlefield at his side.
Considering the war and the events leading to Sigvid’s breakout from the Arena, there was unspoken animosity between the Drengr and Avina.
But this is different.
She feels a tightening in her chest. She swallows down the emotion threatening to surface as Drengr after Drengr steps forward and pledges a blood oath of allegiance to Queen Avina Bloodstone Redwood.