“Give up!”
But it was the chanting that burrowed itself through my chest, like a dagger slowly being pressed into my heart.
“Fall!”
“Fall!”
“Fall!”
When I slipped again, laughter followed, almost as loud as the thunder booming above me. I whimpered when the ropes twisted once more. My palms ached from holding on, the muscles in my arms screaming, and my feet kept slipping off the wet rope.
Fedic’s voice overpowered the karls’. “Watch where you’re going! Look up!”
I accidentally looked down instead. Wind and rain whipped beneath me, falling almost horizontally, and the faces on the ships were blurred.
“Up! Elvara, look up!” Viljan’s voice cut through the other screams. “Start moving again!”
How could I when the people and the sea and the ships beneath me all wanted the same thing? There was a consensus that was rare amongst Vikings, the sense as stark in the air as the electricity making the hair on my arms rise. Almost everyone below me wanted me dead.
“Fall!”
“Fall!”
“Fall!”
Another rumble made one of my hands lose its grip.
“Are you scared of heights, heir?” Darcke taunted behind me.
I didn’t reply, only hissed a strangled sound through my locked jaw.
“Maybe I was wrong,” the warrior called. “Maybe you’ll prove me right today. I had a feeling you wouldn’t survive this.”
“Fuck you,” I whispered.
“I would have brought some ale if I knew I’d get to enjoy youhovering over death’s maw all day,” Darcke continued. “This is better even than watching the fights you refused because you were too scared of them as well.”
“I’m not scared!”
“So you’re standing there because this is also beneath you?” Darcke drawled. “Even heirs have to climb ships.”
Not in storms. Not like this. We respected the seas—the perils of sailing them.
As another gust howled around me, fighting to wrangle me off, I realized my grip had steadied, the anger fueling my tired muscles. Darcke’s words had also drowned out the chants.
“Coward?” Darcke called. “Or spoiled? Which one is it?”
I didn’t bother responding as I started inching forward again. But he kept shouting insults after me. It wasn’t until I reached the midpoint of the ropes that his infuriating accent and voice died on the wind.
After a quick look at the other warriors, I chose Torden’s ship.
He kept my eyes the entire time I battled the distance between us.
“A little more,” he urged. “Just a little longer.”
I thought I might perish from relief when Torden’s hands found my hips and he pulled me off the ropes, setting me down in his lookout.
“You should hurry back.” His eyes darted to the clouds as he fastened the horn by my waist. “Looks like it might get worse before it gets better.”
