Thrain slams Sigvid back against the wall. “And we don’t believe Avina left. No matter. I also bring someone who has spent time in my torture chamber.” Thrain nods, and two soldiers drag a bound and gagged Helga into the room.
“After your return to Salt, I questioned Helga’s loyalty to me, having had such an active hand in releasing you from the Arena. My spies told me an interesting story about my favorite whore. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Thrain clutches her jaw in his hand. “Tie her to one of the chairs by the table.” He commands.
Sigvid watches the Salt soldiers drag Helga across the floor, careful not to shift his expression. “Would you like to explain why you have one ofmyDrengr tied to a chair inmyhouse?”
“I recently had a riddle solved for me.” Thrain clasps his hands behind his back and paces in the center of the room, blatantly ignoring Sigvid’s questions. “After we disposed of Rendel, I should have waltzed through the front doors of Timber and seized the crown of Treland.”
Leto’s initial agreement with them suddenly made sense. After Rendel's defeat, Thrain would feign a truce with Avina to merge the country. He was just not ready for her to complicate matters and continue the war.
“But someone indulged the fucking Queen for another year!” Thrain slams his fist against the wall. “So I bided my time until you were secure in the Arena and out of my fucking way. But when I sought to court her, something strange occurred every time I arrived at the Scarwood Citadel. Can you guess what that was?”
“Women, children, and goats running from the sight of you?” Sigvid offers, not wanting to play this game.
“Avina was fucking you!” Thrain spits. “At the Arena. Bribing guards like a common whore.”
Ceowald cringes like a prude at the word ‘fucking.’ “Goddess, Thrain. Can you phrase that better? My daughter is not a whore.”
Sigvid smirks. “See, that is where you are wrong, Leto. She is very muchmywhore.”
Thrain seethes at Sigvid, his nostrils flaring and his lips curling in a sneer. “Yes, Sigvid. I am afraid she is.”
Ceowald gasps from his stance beside the fireplace.
“Evenafter she forced my hand into our engagement, I still did not realize how difficult you have made this for me, Sigvid.”
He could believe his brother held so little regard for Avina that her feelings did not matter. Thrain is the one who shoved her into Rendel’s arms in the first place.
Oh, gods, shield her from their grasp.
A survey of the first-floor landing does not reveal his little one, which means she is still on the second floor.
“Well, this has been fun, boys, but as you can see, she left me.” Sigvid glances at the staircase to catch her invisible form, crouching on the steps, watching through the rungs.
As long as she remains invisible, she can slip out safely—his heart pounds against his ribcage. So much can still go wrong, and he will not lose her.
Thrain and Ceowald’s cackling raises the tiny hairs along Sigvid’s arms.
“Finding you alone is our contingency prize, brother. You are joining us in the dungeon until she submits herself. Or, you succumb to my plans for you. You see, what I learned from torturing Helga is that she has been your content spy all along.”
Oh, Helga. I am so sorry.
“Your sad obsession with Avina has finally unraveled. Helga may have sworn under my torture that Avina fled for Steinlund, but we know the truth. She has yet to leave Salt.”
Sigvid backs away to the front doors. He spies movement in the trees out of the corner of his eye. Thrain’s fucking two hundred soldiers. Most of whom Sigvid trained as Lord Command of the fucking Salt Province!
Stay calm for Avina. Do not berserk.
“You cannot believe she will walk willingly into your arms, Thrain.” Sigvid growls.
Thrain tilts his head to the side with a shrug. “Maybe not. But,” his voice drops so low even Sigvid, a nose hair away, must lean closer to hear, “holding you will keep those Drengr from rising against me. You are a lot of things, brother, but your damned warriors would beimpossible to defeat. All I need is for Treland to watch your little fucking whore voluntarily accept me to avoid an all-out war.”
Coward! Thrain knew he could not defeat me on the battlefield. All of this is to secure the kingship while simultaneously seeming benevolent.
Thrain snaps his fingers, and Helga’s groans fill the central room. Two soldiers drag her bloody and beaten body to the center. He must have put her through the wringer.
The lie about Avina fleeing to Steinlund is considered the final plan. If Helga suspected Thrain was close to capturing Avina and reasonably believed Helga and Sigvid were close to death, she would redirect Thrain to the northern country of Steinlund.
Avina’s life and the Sacred Stones matter more than anything else.
