“I accept your pledge, Slode Dagsson.”
These blood oaths do not replace Sigvid as leader of the Drengr. Instead, they place her in an honorary role. All these men and womenknow they must take command from Avina in the coming days, either in the plan to save Sigvid or on the battlefield at his side.
Considering the war and the events leading to Sigvid’s breakout from the Arena, there was unspoken animosity between the Drengr and Avina.
But this is different.
She feels a tightening in her chest. She swallows down the emotion threatening to surface as Drengr after Drengr steps forward and pledges a blood oath of allegiance to Queen Avina Bloodstone Redwood.
53
SIGVID
January 12th, Year 1, 10th Era
Toftlund Jail, Salt Province
Time agonizingly crawls, and Sigvid knows he is gradually losing his sanity.
Mali materializes outside his cell thrice daily with a twisted smile as she slams him with false yet sickeningly lifelike scenarios involving his little Queen. At first, he fought back, staring at the wall and frantically muttering reassurances that the illusion is not his Avina.
Nightmares quickly infested what little time he found to slumber. Avina’s cries of agony plague his every waking breath before haunting his unconscious. Every single fucking day is a sickening repeat of the day before!
It is a mind trick—Mali’s creation.
“Sigvid, please, save me!”Avina’s voice is as perfect as she sounds in his head.
Each time, she appears differently. Sometimes, her hair twists into a messy bun. She is furious at Sigvid or in love with Thrain in other instances. She always gives him the false hope that she is genuinely outside his cell each time.
By the end of the first week, Sigvid found himself tapping each of the bars, counting the types of fish in the sea, and exercising his muscles nearly every second to keep his mind stable.
After almost three weeks, he finishes his morning push-ups and collapses against the criss-crossed iron of his cell walls.
“Briny God, shield her from misfortune and death. I call upon you to go against our enemies.” Sigvid repeats the prayer for every day he has known Avina. On his thirty-third prayer, he hears a soft pad of feet along the stone floors outside his cell.
He does not even open his eyelids, refusing to give Mali any more attention.
“Oh, my Goddess, Sigvid! My love, it’s me. Your little Queen. Grim and I have come to rescue you.” Avina appears outside his cell in black-scale armor.
She looks beautiful.
She always looks beautiful.
“Will you give it a rest? Gods dammit.” He drags his hand over his face, unhappy the bitch ruined his prayer time.
“Sigvid,” her voice wavers. “Please, look at me.” She grips the cell bars as she has in almost every illusion.
“Begone, Mali! I have fallen for this enough.” He slams his fist against the cage wall, raining rust off the iron.
“What are you saying? What is he saying?” She flips toward Grim.
Grim is a new addition. Will Mother be next? Perhaps my hounds will come to torture me with Carrot Chubbs?
“Fucking leave me alone.” Sigvid sits, stumbling to his feet. His instant reaction to the illusions tends to rid them quicker than when he ignores them or allows himself to drown in their realness.
“No, Sigvid, it’s me. Your little one.”
This Avina is different. She looks decisive, more determined than he has seen her before, and more like the Queen who led Timber against Salt.
