Roused by the sound of boots trudging through the mud, he lifted his head with some effort. He should have probably been worried about his weakened state, but he suppressed hisfear with the practiced nonchalance of a man who was used to pretending to be omniscient and invincible at the court of Asgard. Whatever bloodyseiðrSvanhild had woven into his bindings hurt like a bitch and was constantly draining his strength. He only hoped she wasn’t feeding her own magic with his thunder.
The sight of Andora approaching chased away his gloomy thoughts and brought a flicker of a smile to his lips. Although she had tried to free her friends, Sveinn was stupid enough to let her run freely around the camp. He probably desperately needed thralls to handle the work for the warriors, and he clearly underestimated the girl. Andora carried a small bundle tucked under her arm, glancing warily over her shoulder. When she reached the cage, she crouched down; her face tightening with dismay as she took him in.
“Thori,” she whispered as if she feared they might be overheard. But everyone with a sense of self-preservation had fled the rain and was hiding in one of the tents or shelters.
“I hope you aren’t here to try to free me. That would be ill-advised.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Unwrapping her bundle, she offered him a small piece of bread and a bit of salted fish. “Eat. Quickly. I’m not supposed to feed you.”
Only as she pushed the food into his hands did Thori realize how hungry he was. And though the salt burned on his parched lips, he devoured her offerings without hesitation. It tasted delicious anyway.
“You should leave now,” Thori mumbled. “Don’t let them see you talking to me.”
“I’m allowed to be here,” she replied sharply, though her flickering gaze betrayed her unease. “Svanhild herself sent me to look after your wounds.” She fumbled around in her pouch and pulled out a small jar. “Turn around. Let me see your back.”
He hesitated. The Allfather taught him to expect betrayal at any time, and he had no reason to trust her. She was aVanrafter all, and Svanhild could’ve easily manipulated or simply forced her into doing her bidding. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to refuse her. Barely containing a groan, he turned to offer her his back.
Andora sucked in a sharp breath. The red whip marks surely weren’t a pleasant sight. Looking over his shoulder, he watched her open the jar, and he noted with some satisfaction that she was still wearing his cloak. Shuffling a little closer, she reached through the bars and gently started to smear the ointment over his wounds. Thori hissed, the touch stinging like fire, but he clenched his jaw and bore it.
“You’re lucky. The wounds don’t seem to be infected,” she murmured. “But you’re cold. You can’t stay outside any longer, or I fear you will—” Her voice broke, and she looked completely lost. She was more a child than a young woman, Thori had to remind himself.
“Don’t worry. I’m a god. It takes more than a little whipping to truly harm me.”
“SillyÁss, you aren’t invincible, otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up shackled and locked in a cage like a trapped wolf.”
“Sveinn is no match for me,” Thori said petulantly. “If the coward hadn’t had dozens of priestesses with him to lend him their power, I would’ve destroyed him and his entire fleet. And Svanhild is so afraid of me that she doesn’t know how to help herself other than binding my thunder.”
Thori gestured at the heavy shackles around his wrists. As much as they sapped his strength, it might take a toll on Svanhild to restrain him like this. If so, she wouldn’t be able to keep him trapped forever.
Andora rolled her eyes.
“There’s talk that the sea king who arrived this morning travels with a powerful priestess. Perhaps I can—”
“New arrivals?” Thori interrupted her, his curiosity piqued despite his exhaustion.
Andora nodded.
“This morning. Many longships. A warlord and his warriors. Everyone’s talking about it. They say he’s from the east, a man of great renown.”
Thoughts sluggish, Thori tried to grasp the implications. A new warlord. More warriors. Trouble, undoubtedly. It reeked of Sveinn’s weakness that he had to tolerate the presence of another chieftain in his domain. Unless the sea king was here to trade. Something close to fear constricted Thori’s chest.
“What’s his name?” he rasped.
“I don’t know.” Andora hesitated. “But I’ll find out.”
She finished tending to his wounds and sat back on her heels, regarding him with a concerned expression.
“You need to hold on just a little longer. I’ll find a way to get you out of here.”
“No, you won’t,” Thori hissed, overcome by worry. “It was a great mistake that you tried to free your friends the other day. A mistake that could have easily cost your life. You won’t repeat it.”
An angry frown appeared on Andora’s face. Like this, she reminded Thori of his little sister, Freyja.
“I know you think that I’m nothing more than a stupid thrall. But you took Sveinn’s punishment for me, and I’ll repay my debt.”
Her determination to help him warmed his heart more than he cared to admit, but he couldn’t allow the girl to risk her life for him. If Sveinn caught her doing something forbidden again, he was sure the bastard would kill her, and there was little Thori could do to stop him.
“There’s no debt to settle, sillyVanr,” Thori said as sternly as he could manage. “Don’t let anyone see you talking to me again.”
