My forehead creases. “Okay?”
Father continues working on the cloths as he speaks, his focus down, his movements careful. “She wasn’t a member of our clan or of the clans with which we were allied. She lived in a village that we conquered.”
I can’t hide my surprise. “She was a captive?”
He nods his blond head and looks me in the eye. “The moment I saw her, my light was drawn to her. Her family was slaughtered, but I swept her up before she could be killed or worse.”
Apprehension fills me at the fact that he’s telling me this story now—a story that started with his deep light, just as my light was drawn to the woman in my arms. I don’t remember Thoren’s mother. I was too young at the time.
“I treated her well. Protected her.” Father’s forehead creases, but he looks more bemused than angry. “I tried to teach her my people’s ways, but she hated our customs. She was outspoken. She never failed to speak up when she witnessed injustice or cruelty.”
He finishes wrapping the woman’s hands and starts on her feet. “I was their leader, so I started making changes. Small changes. Little things. Until the day she smiled for the first time. I never forced her into my bed or even asked her to come to it. She came to me. That was when I believed that she had chosen me and was content.”
His hands become still. “Soon after Thoren was born, a rival from another clan challenged my leadership.”
I know enough about my father’s people to understand that a challenge for leadership involves a fight to the death.
“I wasn’t worried,” Father says. “I’d watched him fight and knew I could beat him. We made a square, but in the middle of the fight, he knocked me to the side, where one of his supporters stabbed me in the back.”
Again, I know enough about his clan’s culture to know that a square is sacred. Nobody else is allowed to interfere.
“I stumbled,” Father continues. “My rival saw his chance. He went for the killing blow to my heart.”
Father covers the woman’s feet in the fur again and leans back on his heels, his fists clenched on his knees. “Thoren’s mother darted from the crowd and stepped between us. She took the blade that was intended for me.”
My heart sinks at what he told me.
Father meets my eyes. “You know what that means in my people’s culture.”
I nod. “She shamed you.”
His gaze is piercing. “A warrior must face each blade. By sacrificing herself, she took away my honor. Without honor, Iwas forced to forfeit my clan. Even though I was left alive, my rival won.”
He gestures to the wall of weapons inside the door and the spot above them all where his war hammer rests. The wooden handle is broken and splintered, and now I understand that it wasn’t broken in battle, but as a deliberate act by his opponent when he lost his honor.
His jaw clenches. “She knew our customs. She knew the consequences. But what I will never know… is if she did it because she loved me and didn’t want me to die. Or if she did it because she finally saw her chance to take revenge for her slain family.”
His focus falls now to the woman in my arms. “Be careful of your enemies, Erik. Particularly the ones you keep close.”
My heart is cold.
This woman is my enemy simply because of who she is. What she was born to be. Not by choice.
But when she wakes up, what will she choose?
And how will I know if what sheappearsto choose reflects her heart?
Father rises to his feet. “I’ll check on Thoren. Then we’ll fetch her some warm clothing.” He exhales heavily. “Then it will be time for you to go. You can make good ground before night falls.”
I put voice to a question that’s now squeezing my chest. “When will it be safe for me to come back?”
“That will be up to her,” Father says. “And whether or not she wants to get you killed.”
Chapter 10
Without another word, Father heads up to the turret, speaking quietly with Thoren before I hear them decide to switch places.
Thoren hurries down the stairs and drops to his knees beside me, nudging up against Skirra.
