“Ever since the Drengr returned without you and Father.” She fidgets with what looks like a thimble. “After he adopted me and there was that whole mess with Thrain, I didn’t want to stay in the city alone. Plus, you have a lot of fucking animals to care for, Uncle Sig.”
“Fucking language, kid,” He points at her with a stern tone. “How many creatures do I still have left?”
Thora looks up at the ceiling while she ticks away on her fingers. “Four goats, three cows, Carrot Chubs, the chicken count changes, Reef and Nautilus.”
He considers her quietly and then gestures for her to come toward him. “Come here, kid.” He embraces Thora in a bear hug that rocks Avina’s understanding of the Salt Prince to her core.
I have missed quite a bit on my research of Sigvid Thorsdsson.
“I am sorry about Steinbjorn. I would give anything to ensure all my warriors return home safely.”
Thora returns his hug with blubbery tears. Her cheek rests on his chest as her shoulders heave with sobs. “I miss him, Uncle Sig.”
“I know, kiddo. I know. Do not worry. We will see Steinbjorn again in the Hall of the Briny God. He is sparring with him now.”
Avina clutches her heart, listening to the exchange. Even if she did not wield the sword that killed Steinbjorn, she instructed her soldiers to slaughter every last Drengr except the Lord Commander. The consequences of war hit her harder than she is accustomed to.
Considering the strategy books she grew up reading, she should have been more prepared to watch young Thora have a breakdown over a concept that seems so simple in theory. Deepest Abyss, she should have prepared to confront Sigvid outside the Arena one day.
Avina plucks another hazelnut cookie from the plate, which is now on an end table, and slips out the back door—determined to pet one of these goats.
Behind the lodge is a farm. Avina is not sure what she had been expecting.
Chickens strut around as if they own the place, and three shaggy-haired cows with impressive horns meander in a run with four bleating goats. Her sudden appearance draws the attention of a pair of hound dogs and a fat tabby cat that rubs against her ankles.
“Hello there, dogs.” The hounds instantly accost her with sloppy kisses and happy barks.
The side door creaks open, and footsteps groan along the porch floorboards. She lifts her head to see Sigvid leaning against the railing. “They all seem to like you.”
“What are their names?” She scratches the ears of the dogs who roll onto their backs, exposing their bellies, which she rubs happily.
“Thora named the cat Carrot Chubbs, perhaps seven winters ago when he showed up unannounced and ate my elk steak. The hounds are brothers gifted by Slode. The black one is named Nautilus, and the brown one is Reef. Also named by Thora. Besides some chickens, the hounds are the only creatures without some disability.”
“What happened to the others?” She watches as a chicken pecks nearby.
“For some reason or another, they are useless to my farmers. I care for them until they are better or pass on.” He explains calmly.
For a hardened warrior, he has quite a soft spot.
“Hello, everyone.” She accepts wet kisses from Nautilus and Reef. Once the dogs settle on the ground, she slowly turns to look up at him.
“What happened to Thora?” She isn’t sure how to delicately ask about his pseudo-niece, who is far too acquainted with a weapon at her age.
“Steinbjorn was a Drengr who died in our final battle.” He gestures between them.
Ah, the battle where I tricked him and dragged him to Scarwood.
Her nails bite into her palm to alleviate her whirling guilt.
“Her parents were his poverty-stricken servants until a terrible sickness swept through the city. She was barely walking when they joined the Briny God. Steinbjorn always held a tenderness for the spitfire kid and tried to adopt her. Naturally, Thrain denied the request. ‘We do not adopt servants.’”
Despite meeting the man in passing, she is surprised at his spot-on impression of his brother.
“Fucking ass.” He shakes his head, still clearly upset about Thrain for events that transpired in the past. “We raised Thora the best we could between Slode, Steinbjorn, and I.” He chuckles. “She is a quirky child. Tending to my animals seems to make her the most concentrated and content. We may have trained her on the practice dummies, but all three of us told her she would never be a Drengr. That life isn’t for a young girl.”
His remarks stun Avina into silence at the level of compassion he possesses for those closest to him. “Perhaps I misjudged the existence of your heart, Sigvid.”
He grins at her with a glint of something kind in his eyes.
