“No.” He grinned at me again, but no light filled his eyes. “I can’t give them the satisfaction.”
I didn’t need to ask who when his gaze flicked to the side, to the group of karls with Geord in the lead. I’d glimpsed them once on the journey back here, and their menacing smiles had made it easy to keep up with Kilia’s strokes.
They hadn’t bothered us, but I doubted it was my skills in the sea that had kept me safe. Kilia had made us sit on a cliff all night on the small island we’d stopped to rest at, and if I hadn’tbeen tied to him, I would have also kept far away at the look in his eyes.
While Kilia still didn’t look my way, another pair of eyes made me shift on the bed. Darcke and his men leaned against the wall behind Kilia’s hearth, their eyes sweeping over the tension-laden room as the strange warrior muttered orders to them.
I gripped Ivren’s tunic harder. I knew Gustief’s men weren’t supposed to intervene. Yet the image was burned into my mind: Darcke sitting atop the stone, watching with a detached cruelty as the wolves ripped Oscri apart. There had been no horror in his gaze, only an emptiness that made him look more like a predator than the beasts themselves.
His eyes narrowed at whatever he saw in my face. I huffed through my nose, giving him what I hoped was a demeaning look.
“What did they do to you?” I asked as I turned back to Ivren.
“They teamed up with some of the captives on the island.” His eyes flashed. “Ambushed us after we cleared the glen with the wolves. Sigur and I got away, although Sigur took a bad beating.” He jerked his head toward the man he’d partnered with, who was lying at a hearth across the room. “He’ll survive.”
The silence that followed made goose bumps rise across my arms.
“Who didn’t make it?” I asked, unsure if I wanted to know.
Ivren sighed, one of his hands raking through his hair. “Adrion.”
I swallowed as Ivren’s fingers caressed the back of my hand.
“One of them crushed his skull before we even reached the glen. I assume the king will announce the new heir tonight after he’s informed Adrion’s family,” he continued.
The karls Ivren had spoken about turned our way, and when I raised a brow, Geord winked at me as he drew a finger across his neck.
“They’re cocky,” I said.
“They got one of us.” Ivren shrugged before he moved myhand and pulled at his jacket to cover his wound. “They’re going to try to take us all down. It’s happened before.”
“I know,” I replied.
The generation before my father’s, a group of ruthless Vikings had banded together and killed all five heirs before their seconds were appointed, each one taking one of their spots before the reigning king—our king’s father—had realized the danger they posed to the crown and exiled them and their iron-bound.
“I’m glad you two made it.”
Ivren and I jumped as Fedic threw himself on the bed.
“So skittish.” He dragged a hand through his thick hair so that the gray streak in the black shimmered. “You’d think you’re scared of those boys over there.”
When I raised my brows, Fedic moved to fling an arm over my shoulder. “I mean, they are definitely out for blood.” Fedic laughed. “Your blood. But with that Sweengard strength, you can take them.” He pulled me closer. “Besides, I have your back.”
“The fuck you do,” a deep voice growled. “I have her back.”
When I flew to my feet, Viljan recoiled, his boots scuffing the ground and driving up dust around us. Ivren and Fedic shared a look, but I ignored them.
“I worried for you,” I said.
“I looked for you everywhere,” Viljan said, his tone sharp. “But it was like we walked in opposite fucking directions every time. And no one could tell me where you were. Everyone I was stuck with was useless, they?—”
I shook my head, and Viljan quieted, although he remained tense, his shoulders hiked high.
“How are you doing?” I asked quietly.
Viljan looked like he’d ventured through Hel. His braids were gone, his long hair tangled as it tumbled down his ripped leathers. There was a tiredness in his eyes I’d never seen before, although it faded the longer I stood before him.
“Better than she is.” He waved a hand toward Stefen, Rakkel’s guard.
