‘Leave us,’ he snapped at the handmaid and to his annoyance she waited for Skadi’s nod of agreement before leaving.
He glanced at his unopened sea chest at the bottom of the bed. It looked ugly and battered surrounded by so much luxury and, of course, it was the only object in the room that belonged to him.
‘Am I safe to sleep around you, or will I find a knife at my throat?’ he asked mildly. It was a pathetic attempt at humour, but he’d never been able to charm those around him. He commanded loyalty by being true to his word and fair, not by being likeable.
His throat tightened and he moved towards two matching bowls of water set out with cloths and combs in one corner. He took off his tunic and laid it on a nearby stool, before washing his hands and face.
Skadi answered him with a bored sigh, ‘I imagine, if I did kill you in your sleep, my own death would follow shortly after.’
‘That would be the most obvious step to follow,’ he answered, rubbing the linen cloth down his face and chest to dry himself. It wasn’t true, but he wouldn’t tell Skadi that. If he died, Vali’s orders were to take Skadi and her daughter to King Olaf unharmed.
He glanced back at Skadi. Her spine was as straight as a spear and she was gently applying a salve around her eyes to remove the last of the kohl, which was now almost gone. To his surprise he realised she was watching him curiously in the polished bronze plate that was propped up on an iron stand.
Was she admiring him?The thought was ridiculous, he’d fought many challenges and battles to command such a large army. His body was covered in the proof of it, ugly scars and burns to cauterise his wounds. His hair was too long—it swept around his shoulders, tickling his lower ribs. He should probably cut it off, as it made him look like an unkempt beast no matter how much he combed it.
Her eyes flicked away from him and she began to wipe at her eyes with a strip of linen, as if she were unbothered by his presence.
It irritated him that she found his presence so easy to ignore.
‘Where is the poison?’ he asked, wiping the last droplets of water from his face and neck with one of the linen cloths, the colour of Thrudheim blue. He tossed it down on the table with a flick of his wrist, the smack of the cloth drawing her attention to him.
It had to be on her, as he’d drunk from the glass previously with no effect. She must have added it when she gave him that ridiculous task of crawling beneath the table for her knife.
She’d made him behave like an absolute fool!
‘It was nothing,’ she snapped, primly wiping the last of the balm from her eyes, as if she weren’t the most deceiving witch to walk the lands of Midgard.
Striding over to her, he grabbed her arm and lifted her up. She gasped in outrage, but he ignored her, inspecting her dress until he spotted the small purse strapped to her belt. With one hard tug he broke the leather tie holding it in place and then let go of her to open it.
Inside was a tiny corked bottle. ‘Your perfume?’ he asked with a mocking raise of his brow.
She smiled cruelly, not a hint of shame on her beautiful face. ‘Try it for yourself and see.’ Had she smiled like that when she’d agreed to break their betrothal and marry Heimdall?
Ignoring her, he took the purse and its contents straight to the brazier and dropped it in the flames. When he returned, she was rinsing her face in the bowl of water he’d not used. She even dried her face with a fresh cloth, refusing to touch anything that he might have used.
‘It appears you are even more dishonourable than I thought, Skadi. Such cowardly tactics are beneath a true queen.’
She raised a pale brow at him and lowered her drying cloth. ‘Strange, I have not thought of you at all. At least…not until a couple of weeks ago, when I heard you hadmurderedmy husband. Is it true you stabbed him in the back? How amusing that you would callmedishonourable!’
Agnar was stunned, he felt as if he had run head first into a wall. ‘I did not stab him in the back!’
She walked to a seating area screened off with a little steel brazier. There was more furniture in here than last night, he noticed. Did she normally sleep in another room? Or was that another foolish wish of his?
She settled herself into a large chair beside the brazier and folded her hands in her lap. ‘The men that returned to me before your attack say otherwise!’
Red-hot anger flooded his veins, and he moved to stand in front of her leaning down to glare into her face, not caring how intimidating he might seem. ‘Then send for them. I will hear these lies said to my face!’
Skadi gave a derisive laugh. ‘And have you kill them for it? No, I will not.’
‘Then tell me what they said, word for word.’
‘Only if you stop raging at me like a wounded bear,’ she snapped, gesturing to a nearby chair. He grabbed it, thumping down in it to face her, their knees brushing against one another and causing Skadi to squirm back in her chair.
‘Well?’ he growled between gritted teeth.
With a roll of her eyes, she explained, ‘Heimdall had finished a successful raid.’
‘Raid? He slaughtered an entire village of unarmed peasants,’ Agnar corrected, his blood running cold at the memory.
