Aura and the others turn to see Argnier Hilmirsson stride into the light of the hearth. His light gray hair falls freely, interwoven with braids, on his surprisingly lean shoulders. His eyes are much like the piercing blue of her father’s. Even the air around him holds a familiar bitterness that reminds her of Sigvid Thordsson.
He nicks Edmund’s glass, downs the clear liquid, and steals her cousin’s discarded pipe. After lighting the bowl, he begins sauntering around the table.
“You may not know the tales of my dealings with Lavinia.” He pauses beside Gunni to swipe his drink off the table, tossing back the alcohol as if it were water. “She manipulated me.” When he reachesThora, he also absconds with her mug, guzzling it down. “Used me for her bidding.”
Calder is already holding up his horn by the time Argnier reaches him. The scene feels normal for them.
“I barely escaped.”
“Evening, Argnier. So gracious of you to join us like the skulking ghoul you have become.” Calder quips.
“Watch that tongue with me, boy. You know better.”
Argnier snatches a stool, which he pulls up next to the fire. “Lavinia is a cold-hearted bitch.”
“We know this,” Edmund whines.
“She made me do things that I can never speak of. She is a tough old crow. As I fled her clutches, I made one final attempt to send her to the Abyss. But, as you can see, I failed. Even my nephew, the great,” he spits the word with contempt, “King Sigvid took a swipe at the broad and didn’t succeed.” He glares into the fire as if the flames have personally wronged him.
Thora leans back in her chair, joining Calder with her feet propped up on the table with a humph. “She seduced you like the sad little man you are,” she says. “When she realized your seed was drier than a desert, she kicked you out on your sorry ass.” Her disrespect is tangible, silencing the room with tension between her and their great-uncle.
“You are much like your father, vicious one. Your words hold some truth, but that doesn’t mean I wish to remain in Nightwall Keep with her. Say what you really mean.”
Aura and Thora flinch simultaneously, his words eerily like their father’s.
The Guardian line possesses strong traits.
Thora leans across the table. “You abandoned Salt. Your brother, your family, to chase some harlot power-grabbing wench to this decrepit country.” She stands so violently that her chair clatters to the floor. “Look around, Argnier! Not even a single child of Skalor stands here ready to protect her.”
Aura coughs, glancing at Calder, who is unmoved that no one else recalls he is the only Skalor-born child at the table.
“I made plenty of mistakes in my life,” Argnier’s hackles raise, “and I am attempting to fix them. I wouldn’t hesitate, given the chance, to end Lavinia.”
“Enough!” Calder’s voice rattles dust from the high-beamed ceiling. “Arguing is fruitless. Argnier,” he jabs a finger at him, “we have all heard the stories. I know you are striving to make amends, but bickering will get us nowhere. Thora,” he directs his frustration at her, “we all respect your love for your country. However, we need to work together to resolve this situation. Let us find a way to save Skalor from the tendrils of unfathomable evil.”
“What should we know about Lavinia, Uncle Argnier?” Aura refills his empty cup with the clear liquid Edmund brought.
“The Queen is powerful. We need allies if we want to attempt to overthrow her. Other Holds will need to join our cause. I know Calder can freeze most of a city, but that won’t mean shit when her entire army is after us.”
“Her army is a thimble compared to the might of the Drengr.” Thora presses her palms on the table, glowering at Argnier beside the fire. “You have been too busy poking around brothels over the last several decades.”
“Thora!” Calder’s growl is a warning.
“My point is valid, Iss Drengr! Lavinia has fewer forces than Thrain when he took on Uncle Sig and Aunt V. And Freyr brought the drauger army!”
“Yes, vicious child. But Makt is much more, how do I put this?...” Argnier hums to himself, “hands-on evil. He isn’t a god who tasks his minions to conduct his misdeeds. He does them himself.”
“This would be the intimate relationship I mentioned.” Calder exhales a cloud of smoke. “To destroy Makt, we must kill Lavinia.”
Thora strokes her chin, her gaze unfocused at her feet. Even Gunni drums along the table without words.
“If I may?” Edmund smirks. “If we locate Makt’s Temple andclaim his weapon, we can storm Nightwall Keep, kill Lavinia, and hopefully lure the demon god into the mortal realm.”
“She does have Isabel and Freyr on her side, too.” Aura shivers at the thought.
“Well, Argnier,” Thora snaps, “can you offer any helpful information from your time spent touring the Endless Shore and loitering around Coldheart like an overgrown troll?”
He snorts in derision. “I will admit that was the first time I’ve been called a troll.” He gulps his potent liquor. “Ice Prick is right, and we must retrieve Makt’s weapon. Far Eddie, I’m sure you have some knowledge of this temple?”
