Her stomach rolled, and she cursed those gods-damned oatcakes for not sitting well.
“I can see you do not agree with my methods, Hekla. And I know you’ve weathered much in the past month. But we shall not accomplish anything if you continue to butt heads with Loftur. Join the team. Play your part. And eventually, we will sort out this mess.”
With a pained sigh, Hekla nodded. At least she now knew Eyvind agreed with her assessment; the first steading needed to be examined, and theymustscour the woods for clues.
“And,” said Eyvind, “now that I know the damage our dalliance might do to your reputation, I’d like to assure you that I won’t speak a word of it.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but the door cracked open, Konal fillingthe frame.
“Eyvind,” he said, his voice gruff. “I need a moment. Alone.”
Ignoring the old warrior’s hard gaze, Hekla pushed to her feet. “Well, Hakonsson, I suppose I shall go integrate myself into your retinue.” She couldn’t keep the cocky smirk from her face. “A shame I’ll have to find myself a new sparring partner.”
Eyvind’s smile was back, those mischievous eyes like a hook in her belly, luring her in. Hekla hastily turned on her heel and strode from the hall as quickly as she could.
FIVE
THE NIGHT BEFORE
Hekla’s blood pumped hot with vigor as she squared off against the mysterious warrior. An hour they’d been at this. He was as adept as any warrior in the Bloodaxe Crew—quick and lithe, yet unpredictable. It was thrilling to find her own skill matched—to lose herself in the movements. And it was clear the warrior was enjoying himself, too; a white smile gleamed from within his beard, hazel eyes catching the glow of the sister moons.
The warrior lunged, kicking out, and Hekla danced back just in time.
“You tried that once before,” she teased.
“Mmm?” His smile broadened. “And this?” He dove at her, and this time, Hekla was too slow. He swept her feet out from beneath her, and she toppled backward onto the ground.
As her senses returned, the warrior straddled her, pinning her hips and shoulders down. Black braids spilled across his sweat-dampened brow, those hazel eyes glinting with mischief.
“Get off me, you lout!” Hekla bucked up, trying todislodge the man, but all it did was create maddening friction where their bodies touched.
The warrior’s fingers dug into her shoulders as something in his gaze shifted. It was confusion and discovery, like she was a mystery he was trying to untangle. For a moment, they stared at one another, the air between them growing charged. But then, the irritating man’s face broke into a grin which was far too victorious for Hekla’s liking.
“Do you yield?”
Behind him, the river water rushed, and an idea formed in her mind. “Aye.”
He lingered for a moment, then pushed to his feet and extended a large hand. Hekla slid her metal hand into his, eyes twinkling. With a deft twist, she unhooked her prosthesis from the metal joint anchored into her residual limb, and gave it a shove. Surprise etched into the man’s features, his mouth a wide “O” as he stumbled backward, clutching her detached arm. And then he vanished over the riverbank. Hekla leapt to her feet and ran to the embankment, cackling with glee at what she saw below.
The warrior floundered in the shallows. After regaining his balance, he stood, rivulets of water running down his face and plastering his tunic to his well-honed body. He shook his head like a dog, water flying from his black hair, and she couldn’t keep her smile at bay.
“I see now,” he said, shaking her metal arm. “You’ve many tricks...up your sleeve.”
“I take my advantages where I can.”
Hekla wiped the tears from her eyes as he strode from the water. When had she last laughed like this? Weeks, at least. Not since Ilías’s death.
The warrior placed her metal arm onto the grassy top of the riverbank, then climbed over it with a look of feral intensity. Hekla’s stomach swooped low. And as he lunged at her,perhapsshe was intentionally slow to respond.Perhapsshe didn’t fight as he hauled her over his shoulder. The warrior bounded into the river, plungingthem both into the cold depths. As Hekla broke the surface, she was still laughing.
She pulled the tie securing her braid and used her fingers to loosen the strands.
The warrior watched her with keen interest. “You know,” he drawled, “you’re the first true challenge I’ve had tonight.”
Hekla rolled her eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere with me.”
“And what will?”
Her gaze snapped to his, and she realized how near he stood. She watched a droplet of water run down his temple, disappearing into his beard.
