My pulse stuttered, and Darcke laughed as he shot a look at my chest before spinning on his heel, returning to where he’d come from.
Ten
Ihadn’t moved for hours, the weight of the hostile gazes pinning me in place.
Neither had Ivren. He’d remained by my side the entire time, apart from when he went to refill my cup—which was often, since I kept emptying it every time I overheard the not-so-subtle threats being thrown my way.
As soon as Darcke had left, the whispers that followed me all day picked up again.
I guessed being threatened by the king’s commander made the rest of the Hird abandon all restraint.
“They’re fucking idiots,” Ivren whispered angrily when yet another group of karls laughed too loudly as they passed us on their way to the barrels in the bow. “You’re still an heir. You still have to choose your iron-bound. They’re sabotaging their own standing.”
“Do I have to pick a third and fourth?” I hid my face behind my goblet as I took another gulp. “Can’t I stop at a second?”
Ivren looked truly worried. “Of course you can’t. You have to?—”
“I was joking,” I said. “It’ll be easy. I’ll just pick the ones with the least sharpened blades.”
“They’re not allowed to kill you if you tap them,” Ivren said. “At least they’re not supposed to. It’s an honor to be selected.”
An honor indeed. They’d be celebrated like kings if they ended me.
Ivren read too much in my face because he took the cup from me. “Not everyone hates you.”
My brows arched.
“They don’t. Some just… don’t know you yet.” He clutched my elbow and made me spin toward the glen. “And you don’t know them. But you need to. Somehow you need to find people you can trust.” He nodded toward the groups of karls spread out, some sitting on fallen trunks and some standing or sitting around the fires that had been started as the midnight chill found its way over the lake. “As you are aware, everyone over eighteen is assessed by the chieftains, and if they’re found to have a unique skill—or a potential for one—they’re sent here. Most have been here a few weeks already so that the king’s men could evaluate them as well.”
I held on to the railing, savoring the ship’s steadiness as I nodded.
My father didn’t force anyone to go who didn’t want to, but we’d had a dozen or so men and women eager to trade their lives for a chance at a new fylki and the supposed adventure of the Hird. They were the restless ones, the ones whose blood demanded a different soil—and the academy was that opportunity.
Their families might weep at the docks for a season, but everyone knew the change was needed to allow for fresh blood.
I hadn’t seen any of our people yet, though.
A crowd of men all the size of Viljan stood by the lake, arguing over who could swim across it fastest without being taken by the current that lured deep beneath.
I shook my head while Ivren laughed quietly, some of his worry for me draining from his face.
“Those are your warriors. They were selected because of their strength, and some for their weaponry skill. They are obviouslythe most popular for our iron-bound. Lika liked the ones from the south. I would stay away from the twins—Oscri and Kilia. They’re the silver-haired ones who killed so many over the past nights.”
“Sweengard.”
I went still at the mention of my name, and one of the twins’ amber gaze found mine. There was something calculating in his eyes, and the smile he gave me as he raised a goblet was wolfish. But I didn’t flinch even as he dragged his tongue over his teeth.
I will not be a coward.
I only raised my hand back, holding his eyes until the twin looked away.
“Those over there are your spies,” Ivren continued as the thudding beat wrapped around us, the drums making the wooden deck tremble. “You cannot trust them unless they’re bonded to you.” Ivren’s voice lowered into a whisper. “Some already work for the king, and I’ve heard he likes to test us.”
He gestured toward a band of men and women standing around a barrel of wine, seemingly entirely normal as they clinked their cups together so hard the liquid sloshed over the sides. Only one girl stood out to me. Her hair was pale, almost purplish in color, and her dark eyes tracked my hand as I wound it around my stomach. I frowned at her, but it only made her stare harder, a strange expression pulling at her features.
Ivren moved on, slicing his eyes to a larger group of people spread out on the right side of the large tree that cut through the glen. “Those over there are your negotiators. I wouldn’t choose one of them for my iron-bound, as the sea and faraway lands call so strongly to them. Many of them already bear the king’s mark of a trader, anyway.”
I fisted the fabric of my jacket when a pang of jealousy hit me.
