Chapter 9 #2
“I’m sorry to say your hair stands out too much.” Ivren’s voice was gentle in the dark. “The red is beautiful but not the best for hiding.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” I mumbled.
Maybe I should cut it all off like that asshole warrior.
“Can I come up?” Ivren asked.
I wanted to say no, but he’d helped me tonight. Even if he’d doomed me to Hel, he’d saved my life—saved my people. I should be grateful.
“Sure.” Shuffling onto another branch, I made space on the wide one I’d been sitting on.
Ivren wound his legs around it, and with unfair fluidity pulled himself up.
“I was hoping I’d find you here,” he said when his long legs dangled over the ground.
Wrapping my arms around my knees, I turned to the harbor where the moon’s sliver cut the water like a sharp knife gutting fish. “Why?”
A sound that didn’t belong to the forest made us jerk, and Ivren grimaced. “I wanted to make sure you were all right. That was a lot tonight.”
“I’m fine.” Bark scratched against my back, reminding me that the one thing that might have protected me against the karls who wanted me dead was now gone. “Just tired.”
A low huff left him. “I can see that. When did you eat last?”
I couldn’t remember. “Yesterday?”
“Are you asking me or yourself?”
“You saw what happened last time.” I picked at a leaf. “What am I supposed to do?”
It was better to starve for a while than doom my people to a life under someone like Geord.
Ivren was quiet for several long moments, before a decision settled his features. He reached out a hand. “Come on.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Ivren hooked the air with his hand. “I said, come on.”
“Where?” I asked. Nobody was asleep yet. I’d seen barrels of wine and trays of food being taken down to the lake, and fires sparked everywhere in the camp and the longhouse.
“We’re going to the lake.”
My laugh was as dark as the night around us. “They don’t want me there.”
“So?” Ivren shook some hair out of his face. “There’s food. And drinks. And I’ll be with you the entire time.”
I wanted to say I didn’t need a guard, but that wasn’t true.
It wasn’t likely I would survive long on my own. But that’s how it had to be.
“You should go alone,” I said. “It’ll be more fun.”
He bounced his brows. “Who said it’s not fun to fight off bloodthirsty climbers? That’s what I’ve been training my entire life for.”
“Don’t let them hear you call them that,” I said quietly. “These woods are never entirely quiet.”
Climber was what some jarls called Vikings in the lower classes who tried to marry, kill, or bond their way into the elite. My father didn’t allow us to speak that word even within the walls of our hearth.
I agreed with him. Our society wasn’t initially built on birthright, and there were still exceptions—like the summer trials, where anyone in the Hird could become an heir if one was forsaken by the gods—but in many of the fylkis, the separation between jarls, karls, and thralls grew generation by generation.
“You’re right.” Ivren winced. “I hear it too much at home. But I was serious. You should come. Rakkel, Adrion, and Ottoh are all there, and most of the karls have drunk too much to be a threat anyway.”
My stomach rumbled loudly at that moment, and when Ivren chuckled, I sighed.
“Fine.” I shrugged. “But my blood is on your hands if they decide to toast me instead of a boar over one of the fires.”
“Deal.” Ivren grinned as he jumped down from the tree. He reached up his arms. “Come on, Sweengard. Get down here. I can see that you’re debating changing your mind.”
A sheepish smile spread across my face. As soon as his feet had touched the ground, I’d decided I could wait another night to fill my stomach.
“All right.”
My limbs were stiff as I moved them so I could jump off the branch, and I was grateful for Ivren’s arms catching me when pain radiated up my legs as I landed on the pine needle–riddled ground.
Ivren held me there for a second too long. His smile widened when color rushed to my cheeks. “I promise I won’t let them eat you.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“Besides,” Ivren continued as he stepped back and started walking. “It’s not the karls that are the problem. Not really.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked as I followed him out of the woods, instantly wishing to fold into myself when eyes drew our way and tracked us as we started down the path to the lake.
“Think about it.” He shot a look around us that made me reach for the weapon no longer thudding against my back. “He purposely pits the karls against us in the Hird.”
My spine stiffened. “So that the strongest leader will remain standing.”
“Is that really the case?” Ivren asked. “Or does he want to make sure we know we’re expendable?”
I slowed my strides. “We shouldn’t—”
“You really fucking shouldn’t be talking about these things.” Viljan came to my other side, a low noise resounding in the back of his throat. “Simply thinking that is grounds for banishment. Execution. Ending of a bloodline.”
Ivren’s jaw worked. “Where did you come from?”
“Do you think you’re the only one keeping tabs on her?” he snarled. “Clearly I’m needed, since you both appear to have lost your fucking minds. Talking about such things…”
“Viljan, you shouldn’t be here.” More karls surrounded us, and their attention was drawn our way as we reached the glen spreading out before the lake.
“Look, that’s the Sweengard heir. Is she finally going to grace us with her presence?”
Laughter whipped my skin.
“Should we bow?”
“She’s got her bodyguards with her to ensure she doesn’t get covered in karl stench.”
“Do you think she threatens them into submission, or do they get off on being treated as trash?”
It took everything in me not to let my neck arch at the whispers trailing us.
“Don’t listen to them,” my guard said.
But how could I not? If I survived, I was supposed to rule over these people. I was supposed to be their commander at the academy, lead them into the battle in strange lands—become their chief.
My father had never ruled with fear or deception or cruelty. He’d been respected. Loved. And I wasn’t going to be the one to break that legacy, even if it meant I wouldn’t be the person they followed.
“Leave,” I ordered.
“What?” Viljan turned to me after giving some karls one of his vicious glares.
“I said, leave.” I didn’t look at him. “I don’t want you here.”
“Elvara,” Viljan snarled. “That’s not—”
“It is my choice.” My eyes went unseeing as I held back tears. “I am your heir. You are my guard. You will follow my orders. I don’t want to hear another word. Leave.”
He looked at me as if he didn’t know me anymore. As if I was a stranger.
Maybe that was the truth. Over the past weeks, parts of myself had died with Lika and my father. Perhaps one of those fragments had become too large.
When he waited for a beat, I brattily raised a brow, earning myself a low scoff.
Viljan’s movements were jerky as he shoved a group of karls out of the way and stormed across the tall grass.
He snatched a large goblet from the beautiful oak tree that graciously offered itself up to be used as a makeshift table and filled it from the barrel of ale before nearly sprinting to the ship resting on the lake.
“I know what you’re doing,” Ivren said softly. “You won’t survive the summer alone, Elvara.”
Low and raspy laughter wove up my back. I accidentally met the strange blond warrior’s dark gaze from where he stood with his men in the stern of the ship Ivren was steering us toward, and I quickly looked away.
I didn’t intend to survive this summer. I only needed to live until the choosing, when I could select Viljan as my second. In the meantime, I needed to ensure he wasn’t sullied by our association.
Loud music, falling from the ships like waves on a wild ocean, split the tense night as we came up to the brow. Drums and flutes and horns created a lethal tune that resounded in my bones as more people turned our way.
“Elvara—”
“Can we not talk about it?” I interrupted. “I would love some food and wine.”
And to forget I’m the most hated person here.
Ivren’s look was long, but finally he nodded. “Sure.”
“Thanks,” I said as I started ascending the brow.
Karls stood huddled around the glen, and many more had gathered atop the ship, their bodies swaying to the melody.
A few men were using the stempost to dive into the lake, showing off for three women standing by a mast, and others threw their heads back in drunken laughter as they stood around several barrels in the stern.
Eyes followed us from everywhere, searing across my skin.
Ivren placed a hand on my lower back. “How about we lean into the danger?” His cheek brushed mine. “You never know who wants to kiss or kill you. It can be… exciting.”
I laughed, and a smug grin overtook my brother’s friend’s face as he snapped up two cups placed atop a barrel. Pressing one into my hand, he jerked his chin toward the railing. “That looks like an excellent spot to ensure no one surprises us.”
We settled with our backs against the wood, and I placed my hands on the carved railing. A sad smile etched itself across my face when it warmed in welcome.
“Hello,” I whispered to the shiny oak.
The wood heated once more, lifting the corners of my mouth higher.
It was a beautiful ship, although it had nothing on the onyx bog oak one back at the harbor.
The planks beneath my feet overlapped like the scales of a serpent, and every inch of the wood was buffed and cared for.
Its sides were sleek like cliffs in the winter and whispered of navigating seas with terrifying speed.
The figurehead in the stem was the dragon—or dreki—that the king favored.
Its dark eyes pierced me with unnerving scrutiny, and I averted mine when something deep in my gut roiled.
“Whose ship is this?” I asked Ivren.
A deep voice broke in, calling over the deck. “Why? Do you intend to steal this one too?”
I kept my eyes on the contents of my cup as the warriors surrounding the blond laughed at his quip. “I was only wondering.”