Ishifted on the chair as yet another karl bled his life force into the grass before me. Not because the death made me uncomfortable, but this was the fifth night we’d been forced to sit through karls beating each other up. While the other heirs had fought for a night or two, the last few they’d joined me in sitting back and watching.
I accepted a cup of wine from the servant girl I’d run into on the first day to have something to do—and because I hoped it might quell my rumbling stomach.
To Viljan’s dismay, I’d continued to stay in the woods overnight, and I avoided the camp, and the karls, as much as I could, which meant food had been scarce. If I managed to get one meal a day, I was lucky.
I’d also refused Viljan’s demand to join me at night. I told him I wanted the space, but really I’d overheard Geord instruct his men to keep track of me and my guard, and it was easier to sneak away without a man trailing me.
When I wasn’t able to quell a yawn, a murderous gaze pressed against my skin.
The warrior whose ship I’d accidentally borrowed glared at me from his place behind the king’s left shoulder. I was temptedto raise my brows in silent defiance, but before I acted on the impulse, I took a deep sip of wine instead. I’d managed to stay out of trouble entirely by keeping to myself, and I would continue to do so for as long as I could.
The strange Viking looked as tired as I felt, with deep purple circles beneath his eyes that did nothing to make his appearance less terrifying. On the contrary, they emphasized the little patience I imagined he had—especially as he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip like a hound on a too-short chain.
As the servants cleaned up the blood before us, the previous nights’ cheering was nowhere to be heard. There were fewer karls now. Some had met the gods already, and those who remained were beaten and exhausted. Unlike us heirs, who were allowed to roam as we pleased while we waited for the trials to formally begin, the karls trained hard from dawn to dusk, as many of them hadn’t received the same drilling in fighting and battle that we had ever since we could walk on two legs.
I didn’t doubt that contributed to the fates of the five men and women who’d died tonight. The brawls were becoming sloppy, and the same five or six men won each time.
“Bored?” a deep voice hissed into my ear.
I sat up straight as the warrior’s hot breath hit my skin.
“Yes,” I forced out. “These karls are tired.” I almost added,Not as tired as you look, though, but I managed to bite it down when Ivren shot me a sideways look.
“Maybe we should give them a break.”
I didn’t like his tone at all, but when I twisted in the chair, he was gone.
I tracked him as he walked over to the king and whispered something in his ear. A hammering began behind my ribs, my racing pulse making me lightheaded when the king smirked and raised a hand to quiet the musicians in the corner behind him.
Ivren’s hand flew to my knee as my leg started bouncing up and down when the king rose. “Karls, you’ve done well the pastnights.” King Gustief turned to our row. “Let’s do something different, shall we?”
“It’ll be fine,” my brother’s friend whispered when my other leg started jerking instead.
I had a feeling it would not be. One that was confirmed when the king continued.
“A challenge between heirs. First to draw blood with their sword gets a shipment of wine and ale sent back to their island.”
The drained energy returned, and excited shouts tore through the tent, feet stomping against the hard-packed grass. The karls who’d been sitting on the ground rose, and the crowd shuffled forward until it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I placed my hands beneath my thighs as the weight of my sword pressed against my back. Not only did I not have my rune, but I had barely eaten enough to keep my strides steady. There was no way I would be able to hide the weakness of my body when I held my blade.
Viljan’s breath blew through my hair, making me tremble.
He was too close. My guard’s hand hovered by my arm, fingers nearly skimming it, as if he would grab me and drag me out of there any second now.
I rose on legs that trembled like a frayed bowstring.
The king laughed as deadly tension cut through the crowd. “Look at that. Our Sweengard heir is finally ready to show off her divine strength.”
I couldn’t muster a smile. This was it. I’d managed to survive a week before I was found out. My mother would probably be surprised I’d lasted this long.
A raging fire lit behind my eyes, pressing to be released. I’d done everything I could. I’d taken every word thrown at me. Every shove. Every vicious glare. I’d even slept in the forest like a spineless recreant.
I watched the king clap his hands—saw the crowd take soot from the five fires and draw dark lines across their faces—but I heard nothing. My head was filled with cotton as the karls,faces shiny from the fat they’d gobbled down, opened their mouths and hurled their taunts.
When my monarch stepped forward, I saw only my executioner, his excitement for a flame I no longer carried squeezing my veins until my blood flowed so slowly my heart might as well stop. Viljan moved when I did, like my cursed shadow that would go down too soon.
This time, I turned his way. There wasn’t anything else I could do.
