Svendi tried to struggle again, but Hróarr’s men held him in place.
Brynn still didn’t speak. She pushed Esa to the side, gently but firmly. “Hold Guin for me.”
Esa took the puppy, though the small animal whimpered in protest.
All her attention on Svendi, Brynn stepped toward him. She moved slowly, but it was the slowness of a predator closing in.
“You killed my son?” Brynn’s voice was a whisper, a rustle.
Cenric repeated the question in Valdari. “She asks if you killed her son.”
One of Hróarr’s men stomped down on Svendi’s foot, making him yowl in pain.
Svendi spat, adding curses in Valdari. “What if I did, bitch?”
Cenric didn’t translate, but his wife seemed to understand.
Brynn shook her head, looking down to the ring in her hand.
Svendi writhed in his captors’ grip. “Not her.” He looked to Cenric. Seeming to realize he wouldn’t receive any quarter there, he looked to Hróarr. “Don’t let me be killed by a woman. Please.”
Hróarr grunted. “Is that not good enough for a self-proclaimed baby killer?”
Svendi looked back to Brynn. Like all warriors, he knew death followed him like a shadow. But most assumed that their death would come by an accident, illness, or the hands of another warrior.
Brynn was a warrior, in her own way. Cenric saw no shame in letting a man meet his death at her hands, but Svendi disagreed. He struggled, but Hróarr’s men held firm.
“Why?” Brynn whispered, her voice little more than a whimper. “He was just a baby.” She shook her head, eyes misting. “He couldn’t have done anything to you.”
“She wants to know why you did it,” Cenric translated.
“Why not?” Svendi tried to spit again, but they hadn’t given him water and it seemed he was running out. “He was right there. Marked out in those fine little clothes with embroidered edges. Did you make those for him?” Svendi had given up begging for his preferred executioner and now seemed set on taunting Brynn. “Well, then know you marked him for death yourself, whore.”
Cenric belted a fist into Svendi’s teeth. Blood flew from the raider’s mouth.
“Cenric.” Brynn grabbed his arm, pulling him to the side. “No.”
Cenric wasn’t about to let a prisoner insult his wife, even if she didn’t understand the language.
“I don’t want this.” Brynn tugged Cenric away from the prisoner.
Cenric jabbed a finger at the Valdari captive. “He just confessed.”
Tears flooded Brynn’s eyes. She shook her head quickly.
This was not going at all the way Cenric had expected.
Hróarr muttered under his breath in Valdari. “I told you so.”
Cenric searched his wife’s face, more confused than anything else. Nothing could bring back murdered loved ones, but in Cenric’s experience, vengeance was the next best thing.
Brynn tilted her head back, her nose reddened and tears sliding down her cheeks. “This isn’t what I want.”
Cenric wanted to give her what she wanted. He would give her anything she wanted, but he’d thought this the greatest gift he could give her and now she stood whimpering and backing away. He had made a terrible misjudgment of his wife. Now half the shire appeared to be looking at them along with Hróarr and his entire mercenary company. Embarrassment shot through him, mingling with confusion.
“What would you have us do?” Cenric asked, doing his best not to sound frustrated.
“I just—”
