Ignatius did see it. In fact, he was finding it hard to look away. If a small person—a nine-year-old boy, for example—kneeled in front of the stump, the broad, flat top would be the perfect height for them to rest their head. Briefly.
“I’m sorry!” he squeaked. “I’ll never do it again!”
“Glad to hear it.” Buck shoved something into his hand. “Now put these on.”
Ignatius looked down.
He was pretty sure most executioners did not insist their victims wore safety glasses.
“Uh…” he said. “Why?”
“To cover my ass.” Buck put on his own pair of safety glasses, then headed across the clearing, where a fallen tree trunk had been sawn into neat sections. “You take a wood chip to the eye, Zeph will roast me over the coals. Or just offer me on a stick to your uncle like a motherloving marshmallow. Put them on and get over here.”
Ignatius fumbled with the glasses, shoving them onto his face. “What are we doing?”
“Settling things like men.” He tipped a section of trunk up onto its side. “At least, that’s what we’re going to tell Ragvald, if he asks. Man was so delighted that someone finally wanted to borrow one of his motherloving axes, I didn’t have the heart to explain the real reason. Give me a hand with this.”
Ignatius was too relieved to object. He helped Buck roll the log across the clearing and wrestle it up onto the stump.
Hefting the ax, Buck jerked his chin at him. “Stand back.”
With a mighty swing, Buck drove the ax down. The trunk split into two sections, perfectly halved.
“Huh.” Buck turned the ax blade, his eyebrows rising. “Remind me never to get into an argument with Ragvald. This thing is damn sharp. Grab one of those pieces and set it up again for me. We need to break them down a lot more than that if they’re going to be any use as firewood.”
Ignatius struggled to get one of the heavy sections back onto the stump. “And why, exactly, are we chopping firewood?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, we have campfires every damn night, kid.” Buck raised the ax again. “Where did you think the logs came from? Motherloving Amazon?”
Ignatius stood back as the bladethokkedthrough the log. “No, I mean, why arewechopping firewood? Because somehow I don’t think you really need my help here.”
“Smart boy.” Buck shouldered the ax, waiting for him to gather up the split pieces and set them out again. “Thought we could take this opportunity to chat about why you pulled that stunt last night.”
The log slipped in Ignatius’s sweating palms. He grabbed it before it could fall, trying not to let anything show in his face.
He doesn’t know. He can’t know.
He swallowed, forcing a normal tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Buck shot him a look over the ax. “How about this. I don’t treat you like a spoiled little brat, and you don’t treat me like an idiot.”
The best defense is swift, brutal attack.He remembered his uncle’s lessons in tactics, for physical battles and other, more subtle forms of warfare.Crush your enemy before he can become a threat. Find his weak spot, and strike without mercy.
“Why don’t we talk aboutyoursecret?” he spat, doing his best to emulate his uncle’s alpha voice. “Or rather, Honey’s. I heard you two talking, when you thought no one was around. You’re covering something up, and it’s got nothing to do with you being mates.”
He braced himself for the inevitable snarl of rage—but to his surprise, it didn’t come. Buck just nodded slowly, like he’d just confirmed a suspicion.
“Should have figured out it was you, that night at the ropes course.” Finishing splitting the last piece, he casually drove the ax blade into the stump, letting go of the handle. “In my defense, I had other things on my mind at the time. So that’s why you suddenly got so interested in her. That’s small enough now. Let’s stack these up.”
Ignatius kept a wary distance, not moving. “Is this the part where you threaten me to keep my mouth shut?”
“Nope.” Buck kneeled, gathering up the neatly split lengths of firewood. After a moment, he added, “Thanks.”
Ignatius squinted at him. “For what? Moving a few logs?”
“That too.” Buck piled the wood into a neat bundle. “You did me a favor, kid. Accidentally, and in the most ass-backward way possible, but still a favor. I’m not going to get into details, because I would rather French kiss Ragvald’s entire ax collection, but let’s just say I owe you one. So I’m going to offer you a deal.”
Thatwas more like it. Behind all the inexplicable theatrics, Buck was just trying to negotiate without losing face. Ignatius relaxed a little, back on solid ground.
