Chapter 41 Calder
CALDER
Kaldrgataness, Skalor
Calder cracks his neck as he strides through the streets of Kaldrgataness. Edmund and Thora assume their places at his side, their jaws set, knowing the magnitude of what they are marching toward.
Each has their single command from him.
The only order he has issued for this confrontation.
I may be a demon, but I am not a monster.
Argnier, Gunni, and little Eivor trudge armed at his back.
Crystal marches behind them, her unique scale armor glinting in the sunlight.
A puffy-eyed Jarl Clementia and her eldest daughter, who doubles as her Second, take their places in the back along with Renfield, Clem’s dutiful husband.
He expected none of these allies to join him or to provide support.
Only Edmund and Thora meet his stride to fulfill their sole command.
And yet the Jarl of Kaldrgataness, devoid of his spiked circlet, parts the tide of his people as he approaches his longhouse in not a scrap of armor.
Drengr lurk at every corner, and he can spy no Kaldrgataness soldier since most of them now camp around Coldheart Keep, far from the town itself.
At least his crew remains unaccosted as they near his longhouse. A comfort he knows exists because Sigvid awaits to skin him alive under this false knowledge Lavinia created.
Standing before the towering double doors of the longhouse, he takes a final deep breath. Closing his eyes, he imagines Aura’s smiling face as he awakens with her safe in his arms, sunlight tickling her rosy cheeks.
I will save you, my princess. No one, including your father, will keep me from you.
With a final shuddering roll of his shoulders and signaling to everyone but Edmund and Thora to wait, he throws the doors open.
The King of Treland lounges on Calder’s throne with all the possessive power the unhinged Beast can contain. Slode leans down, speaking in his ear, but his attention shifts toward the doors slamming.
Their gazes meet across the room, and a twisted smile promising pain paints across his mentor’s face.
“Jarl Calder fucking Avardsson.” He jumps from the raised dais, sauntering toward them.
At least Slode has the decency to appear concerned at his appearance.
“You have until I reach your backstabbing cunt ass to tell me where you have my Queen before I rip your fucking lungs out through your back.”
Thank the Norn for Thora's explanation of what transpired back in Blackwood with Lavinia.
Calder’s breath remains steady despite Sigvid’s berserker side trembling with anticipation. “I would never touch your Queen. But I do know where Lavinia took her.”
Sigvid gestures around with a disturbed laugh.
“Here! She was taken here to Kaldr-fucking-gataness. Your dear mother told me so as she dragged my wife out our fucking front door!” His voice rattles the rafters.
“I wouldn’t have believed the half of it had I not learned your mother tasked you and your Jarl pals with delivering my daughter to Lavinia’s feet. ”
Out of the corner of his eye, Thora commands the lingering Drengr in the longhouse without a word. The group slips silently to the front door, even if their necks twist to gawk at the simmering pot that is their King.
“You think so little of me, Lord Commander.” Calder swipes a horn of mead from one of the tables and drains the drink in one gulp.
Leave it to Sigvid to deplete my stocks of Salt mead.
“Why would I think more of a traitor?” Sigvid grits his teeth.
“I would not know what you’re talking about.” He plucks an apple off a bowl and takes a loud, juicy bite that echoes.
In response, Sigvid kicks one of the long tables, colliding it with another. “My little Queen is in the hands of fucking Lavinia! If you don’t return my wife to my arms, I will take my time ripping you apart slowly as I savor every drop of blood you fucking spill.”
Once the final Drengr exits, leaving only Sigvid, Calder, Slode, and Edmund, he tosses the half-eaten apple on the ground. “Is that all? You seem more unhinged than usual, Sig.”
Edmund finally reaches his father, tugging him aside.
Sigvid shakes with unbridled rage. “No fucking shit! Lavinia has half of my godsdamn family imprisoned in the shitstain that is Skalor.” He pauses. “Where is Aura? Where is my daughter?” He growls, looking around the room as if expecting her to materialize.
At the mention of her name, Calder’s chest thuds with the torment of having not been able to shield her from the evil of his parents.
Damn, Lavinia, for manipulating this moment, and fuck Sigvid for buying into her lies.
“You think Aura will pop out of the air with the seidr you allowed the gods to collar?” Calder cackles dryly. “Do not worry, I have cared for her. I could have brought her home by now if I didn’t need to deal with you.”
“Did you think I had a fucking choice in collaring her, boy? You will never understand what it takes to keep your family safe.”
Fuck, Sigvid. “Ouch.”
In his gut, the hatred, resentment, and bitterness over the winters coalesce into a tidal wave about to overflow onto the Lord Commander.
With a step closer, leaving only a table length between them, the King jabs a finger at Calder. “Where are Aura and Avina?”
“In the clutches of Queen Lavinia and Makt. They are using Aura as leverage against me. Since Makt is my sire, they wish me to agree to become his vessel. They captured Avina to ensure the Princess doesn’t implode the country of Skalor with her newfound witch seidr.”
Sigvid scoffs. “I knew your abilities were unnatural. It all makes sense,” he strokes his warrior braid. “You seek to steal my wife and seduce my daughter now that you have embraced your Draemonium father.”
Edmund somehow manages to drag Slode to the doors, urging Calder on. “That would involve touching your wife, Sig.” He removes Makt’s great axe, slamming the edge into one of the long tables.
The sound of the bar sliding across the front doors of the longhouse, locking them inside, sends a bitter cold burning through his veins like he has never felt before–an apprehension that thuds within.
He sheds his bearskin cloak, revealing the blue seidr wounds on his skin. “However, I have enjoyed your daughter. She is a firebrand.”
“Did your papa gift his weapon when you served them up?” His gaze flashes a threatening shade of crimson. “Your traitorous hands better not have touched my daughter anymore than I know you have! I will fucking cut them off and feed them to the hogs!”
“Would it help if she begged me?” He clutches Makt’s axe, wielding it with one hand.
The blue of Sigvid’s eyes tints fully to a blood red as he unsheaths his lone blackwood axe, pointing the tip at him. “Any last words, Avardsson?”
“Hold on!” Calder rummages along his belt, tossing the mate to Sigvid’s axe onto the floor.
The one Aura absconded with from the carriage.
“Can’t have an unfair fight, can we?”
Sigvid’s entire body goes rigid. His calloused hand hovers over the axe as if it might strike him. His breathing quickens as his grip tightens around the worn wooden handle carved with runes.
“You left her without protection…” The infamous berserker’s words are more of a guttural growl as he stares pointedly at his own weapon. His body responds in a way that Calder recognizes all too well.
That of the crippling agony of a father who has failed his child.
Calder knows he has shoved his mentor off the ledge of sanity and is ready to feast on his remains.
A logical Sigvid is still a battle away after the Iss Drengr exposes every sin he has committed with Aura.
Only then can they move forward.
When his mentor’s head rises, resolve sets in his jaw. He charges with both axes held high in attack.
Calder meets his intensity with all the fury and fear he holds for his girl. Makt’s shaft takes the brunt of the obsidian blades of Sig’s dual axes, shoving him back into a table.
Sigvid swings them as if he has become deranged. Calder blocks each attack with his god weapon, only inciting the Lord Commander’s wrath, who roars as he assails him with a raw thirst.
“Come on, Sig! Surely you must have known the truth between me and Aura,” Calder taunts him, watching the berserker side tear him apart from the inside out.
“Get her name out of your vile mouth!” He bellows as Calder shoves his axes away from his last hit.
Sigvid lumbers backward, tripping over a bench and losing his grip on his axes, which clatter to the floor. As his back thuds against the wooden boards, the King of Treland kicks the bench, crashing into Calder’s shins.
A string of expletives escapes from the Iss Drengr as he stumbles.
“I gave one fucking order! Aura’s blacklist among the Drengr!” Sigvid swings his fist at his head, but Calder dives, allowing only part of his cheek to catch with his knuckles. “You are twice her age, yet you still sought her out?”
“She found her way onto my ship the night after her Trial! You should have seen the fierce determination in her eyes as she searched for Isabel! All to prove she was worthy of you!”
The Iss Drengr lifts the great axe over his head, bringing it down on the Beast, who grabs the handle, tugging it from Calder’s grasp and embedding the blade between the floorboards.
“She was not yours to fucking take! Your duty was to me not sinking your cock into my daughter!” Sigvid regains his axes, which sing through the air.
Calder narrowly avoids the barrage. “Then perhaps it is time to share which Commander accepted her blood oath.”
His Lord Commander halts mid-swing. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“You heard me.”
Sigvid stares at him, as if his mind struggles to comprehend his meaning. A roar rumbles from the depths of the King of Treland that nearly has Calder staggering.
Almost.
Calder’s fist connects with Sigvid’s knees, causing his legs to buckle. “She is a woman who can make her own decisions!”
He dislodges his great axe from the floor just as Sigvid pushes to his feet and throws an axe at his face.