She always considered herself a natural at the old Salt strategy game involving dice and cards. Growing up, Bertie indulged her strange interest, even if he mostly lost.
The crowd disperses at Sigvid’s narrowed gaze. Apparently, he held some old records that she had obliterated. He grumps across from her with his thick, inked arms crossed over his chest, unamused at her multiple victories.
“I believe that is five wins for me and only one for you.” Avina snickers. She knows how much he hates losing.
“I will teach you a lesson tonight.” Sigvid grumbles as he finishes his ale. “Axe throwing then. Let us go.”
How will this be fair? Thord raised him with an axe in each hand, and I was lucky to toss any item into Bertie’s waiting grasp when standing directly in front of him.
“Sigvid,” she follows him away from the Spill tent and onto thecobblestone road, “you chose the one game you could win.” She stabs him in the side with her pointer finger as they walk.
“Yes, I did.”
Booths peddling warm stew and sweet bread, games like Spill, fortune telling, and other merchants spread throughout the city—all to celebrate the return of the light and the end of the darkest day.
From the death that seizes the land through autumn to the Winter Solstice, legends state the drauger of the Abyss may walk the mortal realm. If all mortals band together in light, they can ward away the evil.
Since her last venture into Toftlund, the citizens have added more candlelight and wooden statues venerating the gods along the streets. Every store and tavern is open, spilling scents of sizzling meat, cranberries, and oranges onto the snow-covered cobblestone.
She follows Sigvid to one of the many axe ranges erected on the grassy hill above the main street. All are full of throwers except the last two targets nestled beside an inn. Small wooden fencing encloses the square wooden slab targets.
A young man with broad, muscular shoulders and a significantly thick beard works their range. She recognizes his icy eyes as Calder. The Drengr who gave her clothes outside the Arena and the one paid to be their footman at the gathering.
“Lord Commander,” the young man asks gruffly. “Do you want the target set?”
“Yes, Avardsson, I want to challenge the Queen of Timber here.” Sigvid winks at her, and she sticks her tongue out in spite.
Calder chuckles. “This will not be much of a challenge for the Lord Commander, my Lady. No one has ever bested Sigvid in a contest with an axe.”
She tames her curls into a plait and stares down one of the targets. Slowly, she tugs one of her new axes sheathed on the leather belt at her waist.
“When do I throw?” she asks without looking, knowing this futile competition amuses both men.
“Whenever you are ready, ma’am,” Calder instructs.
Goddess of Wisdom, Maeve, I pray not to make a fool out of myself.
She wraps her hands around the lower portion of the shaft, shifting her feet shoulder-width apart as she mimics from the other throwers to her side. The red painted dot at the center of the target seems to fade to a pinprick, taunting her shabby aim. She lifts the axe over her head, and with an exhale, the blade flies through the air, landing…directly in the center!
“Yes!” Avina dances in happiness. “Take that, Sigvid!”
His jaw nearly drops to his feet, “What? How? Have you been practicing?”
“Yes,” she lies, “now that you mention it.” She twirls her new axe in one hand, knowing she is inciting both his inability to lose and his need for control.
Sigvid grunts as he withdraws his blackwood axe. Lining up with the target, he throws. It sinks in the middle of the bullseye with a satisfying thud.
“Good luck on your next throw, my little Queen.”
She humphs and lines up again after collecting her blade.
“Second shots, good luck,” Calder adds sarcastically.
Avina repeats the process and nearly screams when the edge connects with the center target. She points at the center bullseye, which proudly features her axe handle. She bounces on the balls of her feet with a happy squeal.
Sigvid drops his other axe to the ground while he stares at her mark. “How the fuck did you do that?” After plucking his axe off the ground, he yells as he sinks it into the center of his target. His muscles flex while he stomps to remove the blade from the board.
Avina practically skips as she collects her axe from the target.
