Calder’s blood pulses in his veins as if it is alive with dark ice. “Aura is a witch who can dismantle the bloody country! And you threaten her?”
Makt’s toothy smile widens. “Ah, yes, we anticipated that. Lavinia sought a little motivation for the Princess’ ‘good behavior,’ if you will. Queen Avina Redwood has already proved most useful. Aura willingly gave herself to us.”
“Why should I believe anything you say?”
“You tell me, my son. How important is the girl’s precious soul to you?” He strides closer to Calder, lowering his voice. “Imagine all of the filthy acts I can commit to those curves. I bet her cunt is unbelievably tight.”
Calder’s biceps tense, and the great axe hisses through the air. Once again, he only manages to scatter the black mist comprising his form.
Makt’s voice bellows across the channel. “You have four days!”
October 25th, Year 21, 10th Era
Kaldrgataness, Skalor
Calder navigates into the Bay of Souls with icy focus, refusing to sleep after Aura’s abduction. The return trip to Kaldrgataness has been eerily silent as his three companions lean against opposite sides of the ship, monitoring their progress with intent gazes.
Edmund’s right knuckle is pale as he grips the handle of his axe beneath his robes. Crystal’s gaze has yet to shift from the calm water, while Argnier’s hand feverishly sketches what looks suspiciously like an interior map of Nightwall Keep.
“Calder…” Edmund slowly rises as he moves swiftly to the wyvern helm, leaning over the side. “The flag above your longhouse is the nautilus of Treland!”
He suspected that Lavinia and Makt had more in mind for Avina’s presence in Skalor than merely stopping Aura’sseidr.
There is no doubt about who invades his hold.
He sails as far from the shore as possible and aims to dock at the far western pier. A nagging sense in the back of his mind prevents him from storming his longhouse and confronting Sigvid Thordsson.
Dammit, there is something else at play.
Perhaps Lavinia hopes that I will deter Sigvid from pursuing her?
A tiny silhouette awaits them on the wharf.
As they draw nearer, he recognizes their greeting party with a sigh.
Eivor’s tiny boot taps on the decking as his ship bounces against the dock. “Where have you been, Aura’s friend?”
“Hello, Eivor.” Calder ties them off and gathers his bags. “I have been training with Aura in Skalor.”
She peers around the wharf. “I don’t see her,” she stomps her foot. “Where is she?”
“Taken by the Queen of Skalor.” He kneels to her level while his companions finish securing the ship. “I need to reach her before it is too late.”
“How can you let the bad woman take her? You should have killed the Queen!”
“That is why I returned home.” He places his massive hand on her tiny shoulder, to which she gives a skeptical glance. “We will bring her home, Eivor.”
“Don’t let this happen again, Aura’s friend.” She waves a finger in his face.
“She will always be within my sight,” Calder promises, noting they are eerily alone on the far pier. “Did you stow aboard one of King Sigvid’s ships?”
She sticks her chest out. “I snuck aboard Aura’s father’s ship as they loaded.”
Calder has numerous questions about this small child and her precocious nature, but he decides to set them aside and move her out of the impending crossfire with the Drengr.
The party drifts through the evergreen forest, melting into the evening darkness as they near a servant’s entrance to Coldheart Keep.
He reaches for the door, but the snap of a stick draws his attention to the silhouettes of Thora, Gunni, and a group of his hold soldiers.
