PROLOGUE
SIGVID
Fifteen Winters Ago
Year 6, 10th Era
Kaldrgataness, Skalor
Thick snow squalls swirl around the town as the King and Queen of Treland navigate through the mud and horse manure that cakes the roads in the country of Skalor. With the worn structural supports of the buildings, crumbling thatched roofs, and lack of running water, Kaldrgataness would not be an easy place to stay.
“Autumn has only just begun. How has snow taken over the land?” Avina, his Queen, shivers at his side against the wicked air screaming through the streets.
She wound her golden curls into braids around the silver tiara he crafted for their anniversary. The studded sapphires sparkle in the daylight, portraying her as some otherworldly creature he longs to ruin as soon as they reach their lodgings.
Two days at sea is too long to go without sinking his teeth into her luscious skin.
Sigvid tucks his little Queen tighter against his side, pressing hislips to her temple. He inhales her floral scent and exhales his frustration with being away from their two daughters.
“Skalor was not always this fucking desolate a place. I have no doubt the presence of the Draemonium is having an effect.”
The demon gods, rumored to reside in the Abyss, offer a minimal existence to those who cannot ascend to a better afterlife.
His father, the God of Strength, assures him there is turmoil in Skalor and that a Draemonium is at the center.
The townsfolk hardly notice the appearance of the King and Queen of Treland. With an increasingly tight hold on his little Queen, they divert from the wharf to walk along a pier overlooking the Bay of Souls–the water’s darkness is so vast it appears as if the souls of the damned swim to the Abyss.
As they pause on the deck outside the Kaldrgataness longhouse, he feels Avina tilt her head upward, taking in the imposing, three-tiered structure perched on stilts above the water.
“I read that the people of Skalor were the original settlers of the Salt Province,” she whispers. “Centuries ago, of course.”
The last time he found himself in Skalor, he and his father met with King Edric Zyma before he chose to marry such a cold, heartless woman and die mysteriously under the protection of her own Queen’s guard. Too bad for poor Edric, the child she bore was not of his blood.
Something they care deeply for in Skalor.
Sigvid gestures to the Drengr warriors to secure the perimeter. These men and women are trained and tested before pledging a blood oath to him.
“My son,” he motions to the youngest, a boy of a mere eighteen winters with shaggy dark hair and gray eyes. “I want you at our side,” he commands to their adopted child, who has recently passed his Drengr Trials.
“Yes, Pops.” Bjorn moves to his mother’s side, gripping his Drengr medallion. Like the others, it features a strength rune on a small disc of Astrian steel.
The doors to the longhouse open, and a familiar young man witha golden Salt Warrior braid strides out. His broad smile widens at the sight of the King and Queen. Immediately, he takes a knee. “My Lord Commander and the most beautiful Queen on the Endless Shore.”
“Rise, Gunni, no need to cause a fucking scene.”
Five winters have passed without a word from Calder Avardsson, a member of his Inner Circle assigned to identify the source of the Draemonium threat in Skalor.
Gunni, Calder’s closest friend and his Second-in-Command, stands. “Apologies, my lord. I miss Salt every day.”
As Gunni leads them inside, Avina whispers, “Five winters stuck in Skalor is a long time.”
His final moment with his mentee was five winters ago on the back porch of Blackwood. The young man stood straight, his hands clasped behind his back, and his clean, shaven face staring out at the forest. Sigvid relayed the dangers he would encounter as he gifted him a blackwood pipe and a pouch full of Salt tobacco.
“We are all counting on you, Calder. I would not send you on this mission if I did not think you the most capable of my Drengr.”
“I will not disappoint you, my lord.” Calder sweeps into a low, reverential bow.
Sigvid glances through the window panes into his home to see his children, Thora and Bjorn, huddled around his wife as she clutches their infant daughter, Aura.
