12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
They’d stuck her in a tiny cell with no windows, and she could hear the waves crashing on the shore far below. Brunhild barely had room to stretch out her legs, and if she extended her arms, her fingertips touched the walls on either side.
When she’d asked one of her captors for water, he’d sneered and told her she should be grateful her hands were no longer bound.
She was counting the stones that made up the wall when the heavy door clanked open to reveal one of the ogres who’d captured her wielding a club. A slender woman garbed in white stood beside him, holding a bowl.
The woman knelt on the stone floor, heedless of the dirt. “My name is Lysandra, and I’ve brought you sustenance.”
Brunhild took the bowl. “My thanks.” The stew looked greasy but wholesome, and a dark hunk of bread was submerged in it. She swiped up some of the broth with it and took a bite.
“My apologies if ‘tis not to your liking. The midday table was cleared long ago and this is the dregs of what remained.”
“I’ve eaten far worse on raids,” Brunhild assured her.
“Enough, Concubine,” the man said as he grabbed Lysandra’s shoulder and hauled her upright. “You’ve done your duty.”
Lysandra brushed off her skirts and glared at him. “I need to stay until she’s finished so I can return the bowl to the kitchens.”
“You can stay. I’ll return for you and the bowl in a quarter hour,” he groused and stumbled away, slamming the door behind him.
Once he’d turned the lock and his footsteps were no longer echoing down the hallway, Lysandra bent near.
“I’m here to help you escape,” she whispered.
“Is there a plan?” Brunhild whispered back.
Lysandra shrugged. “I’m sure one is brewing. I’m in the employ of your husband’s spymaster and I received word that I needed to ensure the tunnel leading from the sea caves to here was unguarded.”
“How will you manage that? If you get me a sword or an ax, I can make my own escape.”
“I’ve heard of your battle skill, but it won’t be enough. There are too many of them and the fortress is nearly impenetrable. You need my help.”
“Fine, I’ll wait.” Waiting wasn’t something Brunhild liked to do. She was a woman of impulse, not strategy.
The following evening, Lysandra was accompanied by the same guard. He didn’t quibble about leaving them alone this time when Lysandra handed her a hunk of bread and a flask of water.
When Brunhild bit into the bread, it was stale and hard enough to break her teeth. Her next bite was more savage, and she doggedly chewed it because she knew she’d need all her resources.
The other woman gave her an apologetic expression when she grimaced. “ ‘Twas all I could manage, because they’re holding a feast tomorrow for some visiting dignitary Nidhogg wants to woo into an alliance. The larder is nearly empty.”
Brunhild swallowed the chunk of bread lodged in her throat and took a hearty swig of the water. “Who’s the dignitary?”
Lysandra shrugged. “I’ve yet to find out. All I know for certain is that it’s one of the kingdoms to the north.”
“I know all of them because of my father’s dealings. Whoever it is, I’ve likely made their acquaintance.”
“The king has been crowing all morning about receiving them.”
“Impressing them is important to him?”
“Yea. And he and his retinue will certainly want more than food for comfort.”
Brun’s gaze sharpened. “And you’ll be called upon to serve them?”
Lysandra raised a brow. “ ‘Tis either that or suffer a beating for my insolence. Most men like that are quickly done and quite talkative afterward. Many secrets are spilled after such an interlude.”
“You shouldn’t be made to suffer through what amounts to rape,” Brun snarled in disgust.
The other woman’s expression hardened. “As I said, 'tis either that or suffer a beating for my insolence. Though I don’t relish the act with someone who’s barely more than a brute, the act is worth it for the knowledge I can pass to my true king.”
“You don’t resent what you’re called upon to do?”
“This kingdom took everything from me!” She spat. “I will do whatever I can to bring it to its knees.”
Brunhild sensed Lysandra had no desire to talk about the personal tragedy that compelled her, so she nodded in commiseration.
“That’s why I went a-Viking. To escape , even if ‘twas only for a brief time, the clutches of my father and the pain of what he’d taken from me,” she explained as she handed Lysandra the now empty flask.
“Toran Lir is a man like none other I’ve met. He keeps his oaths and offers no false promises. He is stern but kind to those who loyally serve him,” the other woman said, her words glowing with admiration.
“Yes, I’ve observed those things for myself,” Brun reluctantly admitted. As much as she hated her father for his continued manipulation of her life, she was coming to realize that bartering her to the man known as the Storm King wasn't as loathsome as she’d anticipated.
She shivered for a moment, remembering the way he’d crawled up her body and the moment the icy blue of his gaze had melted to midnight fire, like the lights that streamed across the sky in the far north.
Lysandra nodded assertively. “Toran Lir and his court are the opposite of everything here. He offers refuge and sanctuary to those who need it and his is the only sea kingdom left to defy the Kraken King and his horde. If he is defeated, there is no hope left for any of us.”
The woman’s bleak warning settled into Brun’s very limbs like a heavy weight. She’d suspected her mate’s kingdom was of a singular nature, but she hadn’t known it stood in the breach between good and evil. “Why is the Each Uisge Kingdom so different?”
“The Each Uisge Kingdom is different because its king has known great loss. Nidhogg slaughtered his family when he was barely more than a boy, and he vowed vengeance. He has waged battle for over three hundred years and sought out your father as a last desperate gambit.”
“That’s a very long time with no rest.”
“He’s watched the other kingdoms fall, one by one. ‘Tis only his storm magic and battle fury that hold Nidhogg at bay. All the other kingdoms who’ve dared fight against the Kraken have been destroyed, their survivors enslaved.”
“My mates’s kingdom is the last stronghold,” Brun grimly observed.
“Aye. It is why he needed your father’s ships.”
Ships that had yet to make their appearance.
Although Brun’s crew and the four longboats in her fleet had accompanied her, they wouldn’t be enough.
She was beginning to wonder if treachery was afoot.
“I have a small fleet of my own, loyal only to me, but they are not enough to fight the Kraken horde, and nowhere near as large as my father’s. ”
Mirren and her other other warriors were worth ten of her father’s men, but even their bloodthirsty tendencies and impressive skills wouldn’t prove sufficient if her father failed to uphold his side of the bargain he’d made with her mate.
“I doubt the king sought your hand for your father’s fleet alone. From what I’ve heard, you have quite a fearsome reputation of your own.”
Brun snorted. “Would that my family appreciated my reputation as much as the rest of the kingdoms seem to.”
Lysander stood and brushed off her skirts. “You have shown those of us who do not have choices that we can make our own path.”
“My mother was a shield maiden, and though my father tried to bind her and make her his concubine, she refused. He called her that, but she never surrendered to him or let their relationship define her. She never lived under his roof.”
Lysandra’s inquisitive gaze turned sharper. “You believe your union with Toran inhibits your freedom.”
“It does.”
Lysandra cocked her head to the side. “I think you underestimate your new husband.”
Brun crossed her arms. “In my experience, men are intimidated by women who do not rely on them.”
The other woman’s mouth quirked in a half smile and she chuckled. “That has been my experience as well.”
“I’ll trust your instincts about my mate and his court for now, and though it irks me to do so, I’ll wait before I attempt to secure my own release.”
Lysandra nodded. “I’ll send word,” she said before rapping on the door to summon her guard.