Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-five
“Trygg, don’t run so far ahead,” Ranvi called as they walked along the forest path.
Even from a distance, they heard his dramatic sigh and saw the slump of his little shoulders, as if obedience were a burden too great to bear. Eadlyn laughed at the display, and Inga joined her. Ranvi shook her head with a long-suffering smile.
“I don’t know what I’ll do with him once he gets older.”
Inga smirked. “When he’s older, he’ll be off with the men, and Erik will have to deal with him. Then you’ll be chasing after Alvir instead.”
They laughed again, the sound floating through the trees.
Eadlyn’s thoughts turned inward. What would her future children be like?
Before the alliance, she never imagined raising a child somewhere like Nordra in a culture so different from her own.
Uncertainty came with that. Sons raised to be warriors.
Daughters taught to bear hardship with strength.
Life here would not be easy. But the hesitancy didn’t last long.
She would raise her children with Aevar, and she knew without question he would be a good father, just like Runar and Erik.
As for the rest? She breathed out and peered up at the trees. The dangers they might face were not hers to control. They were in God’s hands.
Some ways from the village, they reached a spot lush with bilberry bushes and found where they had been picking yesterday.
They’d spent three days collecting the dark berries to dry for the winter.
Unlike when they’d picked strawberries, Aevar hadn’t joined them—something that stirred a little disappointment—but the men were busy with the hay, an equally essential task before the season changed.
Still, they weren’t alone. Heida had accompanied them, axes strapped to her hips, sharp eyes sweeping the tree line for any sign of danger, be it beast or man.
The bilberry bushes were dense and low, only reaching Eadlyn’s knees, but thick with dark fruit.
She knelt to fill her basket, the sweetness of ripened berries plump under her fingers.
Katla joined her, eager and bright-eyed.
Ranvi and Inga picked nearby, keeping half an eye on little Alvir as he toddled between the shrubs, occasionally plopping down with a giggle.
Trygg, meanwhile, had taken up his usual role as defender of the patch, swinging his wooden sword at invisible enemies, leaping from logs, and narrating imaginary battles with great enthusiasm along the forest’s edge.
Not long after, he shouted, “I found mushrooms!”
Heida strode over to inspect them and gave an approving nod. “These will be good for tonight’s stew.”
She dropped the mushrooms into his outstretched hands, and he tore off toward Eadlyn, who was closest.
“Here!” He dumped the handful into her basket among the berries.
“Excellent find,” she said, ruffling his hair. He grinned and dashed away again, sword already back in hand.
Eadlyn exchanged an amused look with Ranvi. That boy never slowed down. She hoped she’d have the energy for that kind of wildness when her time came. Knowing Aevar and his brothers, there was no doubt. She would have sons just as adventurous.
For the next hour, they worked steadily.
Trygg brought back various finds—rocks, moss, more mushrooms—each one earning him praise.
After picking all she could reach in one area, Eadlyn rose to straighten her back.
Stretching, she noticed Heida staring into the trees.
Something in her alert posture sent a chill crawling along Eadlyn’s skin.
Still keeping an eye on the forest, Heida walked over to where Trygg was playing. “Let’s go look over here.”
Her tone remained calm, but she rested her hands on her weapons as Trygg followed her into the bilberry patch to Ranvi.
Eadlyn tried to convince herself she was just paranoid, but then Heida murmured something too quiet to hear.
Ranvi’s expression tensed, and she nodded as she rose and reached for Alvir.
“All right, I think it’s time to head back now.” She caught Eadlyn’s gaze, confirming her suspicion that something wasn’t quite right.
“But the baskets aren’t full!” Trygg protested.
Ranvi kept her voice light. “They are full enough. If we put much more in, we’d be spilling bilberries all the way back to the village.”
Eadlyn wove through the bushes, trying to swallow the apprehension rising in her throat. When she reached her, Ranvi leaned in close and whispered, “Heida thinks she saw someone in the trees.”
The words tightened around Eadlyn like a rope.
Inga had joined them, taking Katla’s hand, and together they left the bilberry patch.
Eadlyn glanced over her shoulder as they followed the trail back toward the village.
Heida had taken up the rear, walking stiffly and scanning every shadow.
Eadlyn prayed she’d only seen a glimpse of a deer or other harmless animal.
A sharp snap broke through the stillness, too loud and crisp.
Eadlyn froze mid-step. All around them, the forest hushed, and the silence rang in her ears. She drew a shallow breath and shifted closer to Inga and Ranvi.
Two figures exploded from the trees. One wore a black leather mask that wrapped over his face, only the whites of his eyes visible. The other was a woman, her face deathly pale beneath war paint, black streaks smeared like claws across her cheeks. The sun caught the metal in their hands.
Kalgorans.
“Run!” Heida’s voice rang out as her axes flashed.
Iron met iron with a clang that echoed through the trees. Inga lunged for Katla, sweeping her up into her arms, and Ranvi clutched Alvir, her voice trembling as she called for Trygg. Eadlyn’s hands went slack, the basket dropping from her fingers. Then they ran.
Clashes erupted behind them, and Eadlyn darted a look back. Could Heida hold off two attackers by herself? But what could Eadlyn even do to help? She had the knife Heida had given her, but even with some training, she could not—
A scream echoed as another dark shape burst from the bushes. In one swift, monstrous motion, a man snatched Trygg off his feet, clamping a thick arm around the boy’s chest and raising a blade to his neck.
“No!” Ranvi cried, raw panic splitting her voice.
Inga spun, thrusting Katla into Eadlyn’s arms. Eadlyn staggered under the weight of the girl. Trygg’s face went white as the burly Kalgoran adjusted his grip on him. His lip trembled, but he didn’t cry out.
“Let him go!” Inga demanded, stepping forward, knife drawn.
Heida appeared moments later, panting, with blood staining her arm.
Her axes were still in hand, her expression murderous.
She flanked Inga and faced the three Kalgorans now gathered before them.
Her voice rang out, harsh and demanding, with words Eadlyn did not understand.
The man eyed them before responding in the same coarse language.
Though Eadlyn failed to decipher anything he said, she was almost certain she heard her name in the jumble of words.
A tense silence followed, but something in Heida’s posture changed.
Eadlyn’s legs went cold. “What did he say?”
Heida shifted, flexing her hands around her axes. “He said…they’ll let Trygg and the rest of us go…if they take you instead.”
The world tilted. Eadlyn fixed her attention on Trygg. His chin quivered, and his eyes, wide and scared, met hers. He whimpered as the man’s blade pressed harder against his throat.
Heida gestured at her own chest with her axe, and Eadlyn’s stomach sank.
But the man shook his head and spoke shortly.
Heida’s voice rose, yet Eadlyn read the hard resolve in the man’s black-rimmed eyes.
Either they got what they wanted or they would kill Trygg and anyone who stood between them and her. There wasn’t time to think.
“I’ll go.”
Heida’s expression flashed with protest, but no words came. They had no other choice.
Eadlyn set Katla down beside Ranvi and locked eyes with Heida again, finding her expression twisted into a sort of grim admiration.
In a low voice, she said, “We will come for you.”
Eadlyn dipped her chin and then met the gaze of the masked man.
Moving slowly, she pulled out the knife on her belt and let it drop.
It landed in the dirt with a soft thud. She took another step forward, and the man seized her.
His grip was cruel, yanking her into place.
A blade scraped against her neck. She sucked in a breath and fought the swell of panic clawing at her throat.
But the other man released Trygg. His little legs scrambled as he ran to Ranvi, who fell to her knees and swept him into her arms. She looked at Eadlyn over the boy’s head, her eyes swimming with tears and a wordless mix of gratitude and grief.
Eadlyn tried to smile, but another jolt of panic raced through her as the raiders backed away, dragging her along with them. Lord, please protect me.
Heida sent the captors a glare, speaking what sounded like a threat.
None of the three responded. Before another word could be spoken, the man holding Eadlyn turned and shoved her ahead of him, deeper into the woods.
She didn’t dare look back with his sword still hovering dangerously close to her neck, but she heard the other two following.
Hurried footsteps and Inga’s urgent voice told Eadlyn they were on their way back to the village, and relief cut through the fear.
The raiders had gotten what they wanted and let everyone else go.
If sacrificing herself meant they lived, then she’d done the right thing in surrendering.
After a ways, the Kalgoran removed the blade from her throat, allowing her to breathe a little easier.
His grip, however, remained crushing around her arm as he forced her ahead of him at a fast pace.
They hurried through the forest for about a mile before reaching a small creek.
At the bank, they paused, scanning the trees as if making sure they had not been followed.
Eadlyn wouldn’t put it past Heida to do that, though she hoped she’d seen the others safely back to Fjellheim.
She could not take on three warriors by herself.
While the other two were preoccupied, Eadlyn’s captor pulled her back against him, pressing a hand to her middle and sliding it upward. Revulsion swelled in her throat. Eadlyn spun and slapped him away, her breath ragged. His grip tightened, and pain flared in her arm.
“Enough,” the woman snapped. “We keep moving.”
Her voice was low, clipped, and in Nordric.
It made no sense, but Eadlyn did not have time to ponder it before they continued on through the forest.
Despite the heat of the day and the fast pace building up sweat under her dress, Eadlyn’s whole body flushed with ice.
She would likely die at the hands of these people if God did not provide rescue, but she hadn’t had a chance until a moment ago to consider what might happen to her in the meantime.
They traveled another mile at least before they broke into a small clearing. Here, four horses waited, guarded by one lone figure.
Eadlyn gasped. “Oda?”
The woman glared at her, all her loathing unmasked. She strode toward them, focusing on the man behind Eadlyn.
“Did you have any trouble?”
“None at all.”
The familiar voice of the man who had dragged Eadlyn through the forest shot dread straight into her core.
She looked over her shoulder as Sig yanked off the mask, and a fresh wave of panic almost upended her stomach.
This could not be happening. She could not be left at Sig’s mercy.
Death would likely be a kinder fate than what he planned to do to her if rescue did not come soon.
“They were exactly where you said they’d be.”
Eadlyn breathed harder. Oda wasn’t just watching their horses; she’d been part of their plan. Spying again, telling Sig exactly where they had been picking berries.
“If you value your lives, you’ll let me go.” Eadlyn spoke in Aerlish. Some whisper in the back of her mind told her it might be wise to conceal her understanding of Nordric for the time being.
Oda sneered at her. “You think we’re afraid of a spoiled little princess?”
Eadlyn held her gaze, trying to keep her voice even. “If you do this, Aevar will hunt you down and kill you. You know he will.”
Right or wrong, the moment he found out she’d been abducted, he would do anything within his power to find her and exact vengeance on all involved. She had not forgotten how much effort it had taken for him not to kill Sig the first time he’d put his hands on her.
Oda snorted. “You’ll be long dead before he ever gets close to finding you.”
The ice in her voice chilled Eadlyn’s blood. She’d known Oda hated her, but not to this extreme.
The woman drew closer and pulled out a narrow dagger. Eadlyn’s heart missed a beat, but she forced herself to breathe evenly. Oda assessed her with a scowl.
“I’ll never understand what he sees in you.” She placed the tip of her knife against Eadlyn’s cheek right where two scars marred the skin, courtesy of her father’s ringed fist. Perhaps she was thinking of adding another as if it would lessen her worth.
Though every instinct screamed at Eadlyn to pull away, she refused to move. She may have been born an Essian princess, but she was a Nord now.
“We don’t have time for this,” the other woman’s voice broke into the stare down. “The king’s men will be after us soon if they aren’t already.”
Oda scowled but backed away and snapped her knife into the sheath. She glanced at the other woman before turning to Eadlyn again and speaking in Aerlish.
“Make sure she suffers. If I can’t have what I want, then neither can Aevar.”