But as Oscri’s proud eyes right before the wolf took him etched themselves in my mind, I spread my feet instead. Lowering my center, I lifted my hands, readying myself for him to charge.
I will not be a coward.
If it was my time, I would not run from death.
Darcke’s lips twitched again. “I’ve told you, it’s not in my interest to kill you.”
“I’m dead anyway,” I hissed. “I’d rather go by your axe.”
I wasn’t sure what Guner had in mind, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being the one to take my life. Not after what he’d done earlier today.
“No.” The warrior gripped the arm of my jacket, dragging me with him as his body shielded me from the glen and the tree line. “No more death today.”
“I—” My words faded when Darcke ushered me to the stone, shoving me down beside the unmoving Kilia.
“Leave,” he ordered his men. “Wait for me on the ship. I’ll deal with the others.”
They did as he told them. Darcke crouched and used the axeto remove the rope from Kilia’s wrist, then took out another that had been hanging at his belt.
“It’s against the rules,” I said when he tied our hands together.
“I make my own rules.” Darcke didn’t meet my eyes as he finished the knot, using his axe to mess up the clean rope a bit.
“Why?” I asked as the warrior straightened.
Darcke was quiet a second before he responded, “You saw the chains.”
Sixteen
Fire crackled at every hearth in the longhouse, its flames dancing up the dark wooden walls and the heat wrapping around us like a blanket made of falsely gentle wool. An upbeat tune wove through the house from the king’s musicians standing in the brightly lit corner by the door, and food filled every table that had been brought in, but conversations were hushed, not a single person dancing or laughing.
The air was thick with worry of who would come through the doors next. And who wouldn’t show up at all. The music which should have been calming only made me fidget more, the urge to cover my ears against the flute and drums so intense I sighed deeply. I’d been here for hours—facing predatory stares and harsher whispers—to ensure the one I’d choose as my second had made it, but Viljan was still nowhere to be seen.
I spread my fingers over the thick bear fur covering the bed to ease my twitching limbs. Kilia sat two hearths over, and his body was so still it was hard to imagine his heart still beat in his chest.
He hadn’t spoken a word to me the entire time we’d fought our way back to the beach. He’d been a ghost walking beside me, and whenever he’d bothered to swing toward our enemies, those strikes had been so half hearted I’d hadto step in far more times than I wanted. Kilia hadn’t even looked at me the two days it had taken us to swim back, or the night we’d stopped on a small isle to rest.
“How are you doing?” Ivren’s face was serious as he threw himself on the bed beside me.
His onyx hair was dirty and still wet, strands of it falling into his blue eyes, and his skin had paled, the golden tan nowhere to be found. Like mine, his body was peppered with small wounds from the ravens’ beaks—angry red lines, since the scabs had fallen off every time we swam in the cool water.
I shrugged. “Same as you, I think.”
He did his best to give me a blinding smile. “So perfect, then?”
My hollow laugh did nothing to help him. “Apart from all the death, and the injuries and the swim.”
“All in the name of the conquest and the crown, right?”
When I elbowed him, a wince replaced whatever was left of his weak smile.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
There was a darker stain on his jacket—one that didn’t come from the sea he’d just left behind—and I reached for the fabric.
“Ivren,” I whispered as I peeled his tunic back, careful as it stuck to the gaping wound where bright red blood still dripped through the thicker, darker coat. “You need a healer.”
He placed his hand on mine, and I stilled under his warm fingers.
