Jarl Rolf inspects her father while Isabel saunters over to her.
“Why, of course. My grandfather visited me in a dream. He instructed that I keep you on course to become a Drengr until he said otherwise.”
“Your grandfather? I thought you said most of your family were dead.”
Her smirk widens to a horrifying expression of vengeful joy. “Oh, yes, except one is very much alive. You might know him as Freyr, God of Stability.”
Aura’s face falls.
TheFreyr, as in the father of Thrain, her uncle. The same uncle who tried to conquer Treland. If that is her grandfather, then that means Rendel was a halvgud, too. Which makes Isabel one as well.
“Are we ready?” Rolf returns, rubbing his hands together. “We must set sail before any other unwanted frost follows our way.”
“To Skalor?” Aura tries to distract them until a Drengr shows.
Isabel seizes her chin, tugging her face closer. “I provided the intelligence on the jail for Rolf to release me, just as I helped these men kill every Drengr protecting Blackwood.
“No, that’s not possible!”
“Oh, it’s possible. Just like the Queen of Skalor announcing the prophecy to save the country lies in sacrificing you to the gods.”
No, no, this is a nightmare from which I will surely awaken!
“All Jarls, including your precious protector, Avardsson, were offered anything their hearts desired in exchange for delivering you, alive, to Nightwall Keep.”
Aura prepares to retort, but Isabel shakes her head. “There is no love lost with the feral Iss Drengr. He made his bed in Treland with the Sigvidsson-Redwood clan. When he sets foot in Skalor, he faces something much worse than death.”
Aura gapes, feeling as if someone is squeezing her heart, hoping it will burst. “Why did you tell my father he seduced me?”
Isabel throws her head back, and a belly laugh overcomes her. “Oh? But did he not? The man who only entertains dalliances with women who he can toss out his door before the cock crows?”
Aura’s face burns with humiliation.
Isabel leans forward to whisper in her ear. “I needed the King to believe exactly what I suggested.” She brushes her curls behind her ear in a faux intimate gesture, reminding her all too much of Calder.
Isabel sneers with a tilt of her head. “Do you know what you are to everyone? A bounty to claim, Sigvid’s daughter.”
“I’m done with this.” Rolf approaches her with a familiar syringe full of a blue liquid.
Aura struggles yet manages to secure her father’s blackwood axe in her belt.
“Good night, Princess.” He jabs her with the needle, and the liquid pumps into her body, quieting her mind as she succumbs to the darkness.
15
CALDER
September 5th, Year 21, 10th Era
Toftlund City, Treland
Calder puffs more vigorously at his pipe the longer it takes the Lord Commander to return. No one would dare attack the carriage of Sigvid Thordsson. And the King would die before allowing anyone to hurt the Princess.
A shadow crosses his table. He hardly recognizes Thora's figure before a dagger blade embeds itself between his fingers, driven into the worn wood.
“Where is Uncle Sig?” She demands.
Calder clamps his pipe in his teeth. “I was about to ask you the same question. He escorted the younger Princess back to Blackwood, but should have returned by now.”
