Two Banamaðr?One wasalwayssufficient. They didn’t fail.
Except when they’d hunted me, which must’ve seemed like reason enough to send two.
It was a chilling thought, but it was the only explanation that made sense. Agreeing to send me here must’ve been a plot to getrid of me. I was sure my father meant to blame my death on the Saxons and use it to rouse the Vikings to war.
The Banamaðr had to be aware Eleanor and I were in the maze, but they might not know yet that I’d discovered them. If we kept it that way a little longer, it might buy me time to think.
I snatched Eleanor by the arm and whispered, “We have to get out of here.”
Her eyes flared, but for once I was grateful that Saxon women were trained to be so compliant because she moved along silently back in the direction we’d come.
Another flash of movement on the other side of the hedge behind us made it hard to breathe.
There can’t be a third.The thought was as much a desperate plea to the gods as it was a denial of what I knew to be true.
He’d sacrificed three of his most precious fighters to make absolutely sure the job was done. All three would die if one of them succeeded in killing me, so they’d be vying for the honor of landing the final blow.
I might be able to fend off three Banamaðr with the luck of Thor on my side, but if I had to protect Eleanor at the same time, we had no chance. They’d slaughter her simply because she was nearby. She had to get herself to safety.
You could scream for help…
I wanted to throttle the part of me that had produced the thought.
I’d rather die than summon the fucking Saxon army to save me.And that might only give my father the war he was looking for.I wanted revenge, but I had no desire for both our kingdoms to be torn apart by violence again. I’d made the mistake of seeing the men down there as actual people and didn’t want them indiscriminately slaughtered because of me.
“We’re being hunted,” I whispered in her ear. “You do exactly as I say if you want to live.”
She nodded urgently, shifting her eyes in fright even as she kept quiet.
“Walk calmly until you’re out of the maze, then run to Bastian.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll walk with you until it’s a direct path to the training grounds.” She wasn’t accustomed to mastering her fear like this, and I didn’t trust that she wouldn’t panic and get lost in the maze.
I’d trained my senses on the ones who hunted us, listening for the almost-nonexistent sounds of their movements, so I flinched when one of them began to thump on his shield. I’d never heard of them doing that before, but I’d never heard of them hunting in a pack before either.
The other two thumped their shields in answer, an act of psychological warfare that sent chills cascading down my spine.
Could they hear this down on the training grounds? The Banamaðr must’ve been ready to attack, so sure of their victory that they didn’t care if they made noise. The reason they were certain became clear when a fourth shield was hammered in rhythm with the others in the direction of the exit.
There was no escape.
Four fucking Banamaðr.I’d never heard of four in one place outside their cave, far less heard of anyone fighting four.
What about standing against them in a fucking Saxon gown armed only with a knife?
Eleanor whimpered as tears streamed down her face. I was all but dragging her forward as she frantically looked around us.
The thumping shields only got closer, caging us in.
I kept an eye out for anything I could use as a weapon. Tearing a branch from the hedge would be the best I could do, but that was an exercise in futility. It would offer little defenseagainst their weapons, and I’d waste precious time. I had to disarm one of them.
I dragged Eleanor faster. Two more turns, and she’d have a straight shot if she went through the hedge, but on our next turn, the Banamaðr in that direction moved like lightning through a hedge to block our escape.
Eleanor screamed, but I cut off the sound with a hand over her mouth. She was going to get people killed if she drew them here. “Save your breath for when I tell you to run.”
His enormous bulk blocked most of the path. The massive double-headed axe in his hand was obviously his favored weapon, but along his sides and thighs, he had dozens of other implements: Blades and at least one sickle. Throwing knives. A hammer.
