Several of theVanirsnickered, and King Lofarr’s lips curled in what might have been amusement or calculation.
“Your son lacks a warrior’s foresight as much as a king’s wisdom,” Njord said, before Thori could start an argument with Frekegar. “Perhaps if he’d been better educated, this disastrous raid needn’t have happened, and fewer lives would have been lost.”
Heat rose to Thori’s face. Being reprimanded like a child in front of the assembled emissaries filled him with a shame that burned hotter than any battle wound. He clenched his fists under the table, and the smell of ozone filled the air as lightning danced between his knuckles.
“My son may be young,” Odin replied sourly, “but he learns from his missteps. A quality I have found wanting in elder gods who cling to old grievances and their ancient ways.”
“Some offenses can neither be redeemed nor forgiven,” Njord growled, eyes fixed on Thori.
Staring back defiantly, Thori struggled to control his anger.
Who did thisVanrthink he was?
As the negotiations continued, Thori found himself increasingly irritated by the sea god across from him. Njord spoke confidently on matters of territories and boundaries, trade routes, andwergild, never intimidated by Odin. Each point was argued with a calm precision that made Thori feel childish by comparison. His father had strictly forbidden him to demand aholmgang, but he could barely restrain himself.
Confused, he watched as Njord spilled out a bag of small, polished stones on the table. For a moment, Thori thought hewas casting runes, but the stones had no markings on them, and there were too many to be a set of runes anyway.
“What are you doing?” Thori asked irritably. “Have we reached child’s play now?”
Njord gave him a flat look before flicking a stone over to Thori, who caught it on instinct.
“Captives.”
“What?”
“Each of these stones represents a captive Asgardian warrior.”
So many?
Thori’s stomach turned with a sickening mixture of shame and failure. How could he have let it come to this? He’d make theVanirpay for this humiliation!
Vision clouding with anger, Thori fought to keep his emotions in check. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to snap Njord’s neck. He forced himself to focus on something else instead. Anything else. He had to keep himself under control. Involuntarily, his attention was drawn by Njord’s hands as they played with the black stones. They were calloused like a swordsman’s or sailor’s, yet strangely elegant in their movements.
Njord kept negotiating like a confident merchant, and somehow his composed words seemed to carry more weight than the loudest declarations from the Asgardian delegation. When Njord paused, even King Lofarr leaned forward slightly, as if the very mountain held its breath.
Thori wanted to strangle him. Badly. Yet, something in his chest tightened with each calm word from Njord’s lips. A feeling he refused to name as envy, certainly not admiration.
“For each warrior of Asgard returned alive, we require one hundred coins of silver, a golden arm-ring, or an enchanted weapon,” Njord told Odin as if he were dictating his terms of trade to a lowly merchant in the town square. “This is, by theway, less than was demanded after the raid on Fensalir in your father’s youth.”
“Excessive,” Odin countered, features darkening. “The warriors of Vanaheim taken in fair combat number nearly as many as ours.”
An exaggeration, Thori realized, but he kept his mouth shut.
“Your captives were taken in defense of hearth and home,” Njord argued. “While ours were seized during an unprovoked assault on peaceful shores.”
His gaze flicked to Thori. “The price rises higher for those who strike without warning or cause. Just as the fisherman pays dearly for taking from waters not his own.”
Thori felt Njord’s accusation like a blade between his ribs. They wereÆsir, royalty among the gods. And they were only taking back what was rightfully theirs! How dare Njord compare them to common thieves?
“What of those who chain their captives in salt mines rather than granting them warrior’s quarters?” Thori challenged, unable to contain himself any longer. Sure, those rumors weren’t confirmed, but there must be some truth to them if they persisted so stubbornly. “The ransom for aneinherimay be high, but it’s undeserved if the vanquished are treated as thralls rather than warriors taken in fair combat.”
A dangerous silence fell over the hall. Njord rose to his feet slowly, the air around him churning with barely contained power. For a breathless moment, Thori thought he might actually attack, protocol and peace negotiations be damned.
Instead, Njord leaned forward, palms flat against the table, and spoke with deadly softness.
“Mind that quick tongue of yours, little thunder god, before it brings more disaster upon your people. What you are babbling about is nothing but rumors, and to spread them without ever having set foot in Vanaheim yourself is an impertinence. If weweren’t here on negotiations, I’d demand retribution here and now.”
The words struck.
