How dare he insinuate anything regarding the Timber Queen
And my farm is just fine.
“I do not need you or Thrain dictating how to handle Avina.”
“She’s not yours, Sigvid! Can’t you see that?” Kar leaps to his feet, shouting so loud that the surrounding area quiets.
“She is the Queen of Timber, the sole heir to the Ridge. She is one territory away from ruling all fucking Treland! Yet you think you can play with your toy without any consequences? Or complications?” Kar sways as he yells. “What will happen when the other provinces send armies to return her? How many Salt men will die to defend your right to diddle her in your cold, drafty lodge?”
Drunk or not, Kar has just crossed the fucking line. Regardless of the accuracy of his statements.
“Go to bed, Kar. You are drunk.” Sigvid knocks him to the ground. “Get out of here before I end you myself.” He towers over Kar, watching him struggle to get his feet under him.
No one moves as Kar stumbles into his tent, leaving Slode, Helga, and Sigvid alone.
The blood of the berserker pulses through Sigvid’s veins. He should rip him limb from bloody limb for his words. He will see a thousand men die to keep Avina alive.
All so he can use her, of course.
“You summoned us, Sig?” Slode slips from the tree to take Kar’s stump by the fire.
“As Kar tactlessly pointed out, we have been at war for a long time. It is time that I explain to my Inner Circle the truth as to why.” Sigvid settles back onto a discarded stump with slumped shoulders. His fury rolls off into something resembling shame. “Thrain and I convened on the war long before axes crossed. We met with a Ridge nobleman, Lord Leto. His payment saved the lives of our people, and in exchange, we drew Rendel into a war, all to deliver his head.”
Slode and Helga remain speechless while he struggles to admit how they ended up here.
I deserve their disapproval. We have become nothing but mercenaries.
Sigvid grabs his horn and chugs it down.This mead is piss.
“After we killed Rendel, we had fulfilled our contract with Leto. And then Avina picked up the torch and gave us a fight worthy of an accomplished general.” He refuses to contain a prideful smirk.
“We should have ended the war after that, but I could not stop myself. I had someone who could challenge me strategically in battle.” Sigvid clears his throat. “I tell you both this so that you may understand how we arrived at this moment.”
It is Helga who breaks the silence. “This Leto must have needed the Salt crown, or he would not have manipulated the involvement of your axes by using our impoverished citizens.” She sighs and studies the starless night overhead. “I will not pretend to understand your fixation with the Timber Queen, but I respect you as a warrior and as my Lord Commander to follow you.”
Slode grumps and uncorks another bottle of mead. “Why do I suspect there is more to the story?”
Sigvid purses his lips, focusing intently on the crackling orange and blue flames licking at the logs. “It would seem Lord Leto saw fit to remove me from the battlefield and sold me to the Arena. And I would like to know why,” Sigvid mutters.
“We can easily find the scum and drag his ass back to Toftlund.” Slode leaps up in anticipation.
“Before we go on a revenge mission,” Helga interrupts, “we have a problem back home.”
Sigvid tilts his head to look up at Slode.What has Thrain done now?“Yes, Helga?”
“Our drinking water is contaminated. The entire city is affected, and Thrain seems more concerned about renovating his home.” Helga’s fists quiver in her lap. “He has sent workers to investigate the aqueducts, but they have no answers.”
“I expect my brother to spend more time playing decorator than taking action in a crisis.” If Thrain isn’t schmoozing wealthy Salt lords, he is fondling their wives. Sigvid strokes his beard. “What has been done to provide fresh water?”
“Most are walking to the springs of Fjell Mountain and boiling pots. But not all are well or able to make the journey.” Helga laments, causing Sigvid to wonder how many they have lost to this situation.
He stands, cracking his neck. “Anything else?”
Helga glances at Slode, who leans away, narrowing his eyes. “Do you not trust me enough to relay your report?” He spits.
She bristles, and he knows the information must be essential. “I trust only his lordship.” After some hesitation, she clears her throat, “I have no proof, but Thrain had a hand in you ending up in the Arena. This ‘Lord Leto’ may have made the judgment, but Thrain, at the least, approved the decision.”
“Big fucking surprise Thrain is involved.” Sigvid huffs.
