Gylfa quickly hid her surprise, but Thori couldn’t help feeling a little schadenfreude at her expense. Njord’s guards had donea poor job of eliminating the threat to their chieftain. Thori couldn’t imagine it was a coincidence that thenøkkenhad stalked them yesterday after their visit to the tavern, and now they’d breached the safest place in the whole fortress.
He stared at the water dripping from the creatures’ ugly remains, leaving puddles on the limestone floor. And suddenly he couldn’t take his gaze away from the claws, the sharp, shellfish teeth. If Njord hadn’t dragged him back to the fortress, Thori would’ve jumped into the water to be drowned and probably eaten. Bile rose in his throat, and a small, distressed sound slipped past his lips.
Njord’s focus was back on him immediately.
“You’re going back to bed. Now.”
“I don’t need to rest. It’s just a scratch,” Thori declared, jumping at the distraction. Anything to avoid thinking about the dreadfulnøkkenand the alluring curve of Njord’s lips.
Njord shot him a withering look.
“You’ll see a healer.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I’m sure of that. But I’d prefer you not bleeding all over my bed.”
Gylfa appeared next to them with bandages and more supplies, eagerly offering them to Njord.
“Shall I dress your thrall’s wounds, my lord?”
“Yes. And then you need to fetch Skalmöld. I want the war council to convene in the tactics room.”
“Yes, my lord.”
She crouched down in front of Thori.
“May I have a look?”
Her eagerness to please Njord irked Thori, but he shifted to offer his shoulder for inspection, nonetheless.
“A few of these need stitches. I can do it myself, or I can send for my husband. He’s a healer.”
“Do it. No need to wake your husband.”
She smiled at him.
“Good.”
Her treatment hurt only half as much as Thori would’ve expected. She stitched his wounds with surprising skill, her touch gentle.
“Do you know where thenøkkencame from?” Gylfa asked.
“The balcony would be my best guess, but when I woke, they were already inside.”
“Hel’stits.” She seemed genuinely upset. “I botched this. I should’ve considered posting guards outside.”
“Don’t be silly,” Thori said between clenched teeth as she applied a herbal salve on top of the tincture Njord had used and started to bandage his wounds. “The balcony is how high? 300 feet above the sea? Plus, the walls of the keep should have provided extra protection. Who’d expected something to make its way up here?”
He had no intention of comforting her. He didn’t even like her, with her exaggerated admiration for Njord. But he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.
Gylfa frowned.
“You’re right,” she said haltingly. “And that means they must’ve breached our protective runes to set foot on the island.”
“If I were you, I’d ask myvalaa few tough questions,” Thori said.
He had a bad feeling about this.
