“Where’s Sig?” He glares between Finn and Helga as they hop to the ground.
“On his way,” Finn answers dismissively. “I see you made quick work of the Arena sentries, Slode.”
Slode crosses his arms as he strides past the other two until he is eye to eye with Avina. “Who is this?” He looks her over suspiciously.
“Lord Sigvid wants a token to remember the Arena,” Finn announces to collective laughter from everyone but Slode.
Why can no one leave her in peace? For once, she’d give anything to blend into the background.
Slode tilts his head curiously. “Who is this?” He growls low.
Something about the dynamic between the three warriors keeps Avina quiet. Helga’s loyalty lies unflinchingly with Sigvid, while Finn is biding his time until the right moment to strike. Then there is Slode with black ink covering his neck and face, commanding unwavering respect from the onlookers.
“Who the fuck is this?” Slode demands.
Avina is overly aware of the Drengr, who silently observe the situation unfolding. Some have quieted while others whisper with dark expressions.
They know. They know who I am.
“She bore the Commander’s seed.” One of the Drengr she recognizes as the young man who gave her clothes trots his horse over. “He marked her, Slode.”
“She is Queen fucking Avina. Is that not clear enough, you bumbling buffoons!” Helga spits.
Slode pales. His monstrous back turns on Avina, and he rejoins the circle.
“Move,” Slode commands as he shoves Helga aside. “Calder,” he addresses the young Drengr, “Ride back to the Arena and bring two horses to Sigvid and Kar. Apparently, this asshole,” he gestures to Finn, “took Hest from Sig.”
Avina sees a dark wool cloak in Slode’s grasp when he faces her again.
“What are you doing? She’s fine.” Finn jests.
“She is turning blue, Finn. Have some damn humanity.” He steps to lay the cloak over Avina when Finn intercedes. His sword flies between Avina and Slode.
“If we kill the Timber Queen now, we can say she fell victim to the Arena’s neutrality. Dump her body back on the neutral side.”
Slode’s expression doesn’t waver. “If Sigvid wants his Queen, then he gets his fucking Queen.”
Finn unsheaths a dagger and thrusts the point against Avina’s neck.
“Kill me!” Avina hisses. “Be done with it. No one has ever wanted me alive. This situation is no different.”
“Excellent, then I send you to whatever afterlife you subscribe to.” Finn trades the dagger for his sword, laying the cold steel against the back of her neck.
Slode and Helga’s cries blend into the wind when the edge of his blade lifts.
How am I demonized for having defended my people against such a beast? Only to have one of his warriors blame me for his father’s death in a war beyond my control.
She can hear the steel slice through the air. Her eyes squeeze shut in silent acceptance of her fate.
Instead of the sword connecting with her neck, the blade clatters off another.
Avina’s eyes fly open to see Finn stumble backward into Helga’s horse. A triumphant smirk appears on Slode’s features.
“Oh shit!” Finn exclaims.
Sigvid’s answering roar shakes Avina to her bones.
21
