It would have to be if this was headed where I thought it was headed.
Energy thrummed under my skin, my father’s and Viljan’s battle training kicking in, and I moved my feet slightly wider, making sure my weight was balanced.
“Do you believe her?” The bearded man in the lead turned to the others.
They shook their heads.
“What happens if an heir…disappearsbefore the trials start and there isn’t a second to replace them yet?” he continued.
My pulse pounded in my ears as they circled the hearth.
“She has a brother who can step in,” the shortest of them, with a long blond braid over his shoulder, said. “And he won’t be happy.”
“Maybe he can disappear too? I haven’t heard very goodthings about the eldest Sweengard. Perhaps it’s time for a new family to lead Oenskan?” the leader said.
“I think so. Their island is supposed to be particularly beautiful. And safe. Why should they get to keep it for another generation?”
More laughter bounced against the wooden walls, joining the sharp crackling of fires. All four of them swayed as they walked up to the flames that separated us, the orange and red playing across their drunk features.
That’s why they were so brave. They must have drunk a barrel each, judging from how red-rimmed their eyes were.
I shifted the sword in my hands far more clumsily than I used to. Reckless men were dangerous men. I’d learned that the hard way when we were out pillaging and the warriors got drunk at the war camp. Lika had had to step in a few times to get them away from me.
“I don’t think the king would like it if I don’t show up tonight.” I retreated until the cot cut into my legs, my heart racing in my chest and my blood rushing hotly through my veins as I firmed my grip on my blade. “And I don’t like to disappoint.”
The metal clinked when my hand trembled. I’d never fought without my rune. I didn’t like to admit it, but these men were right. For the first time in my life, I felt the weight of the steel. It was no longer like an extension of myself—like a limb I could move as easily as I could flutter my fingers. Now it was heavy, awkwardly bouncing by my side as I tried to sweep it through the air.
Drums continued splitting the air, sounding similar to how Viljan’s raging stride would thud against the dewy grass if he had to come save me, and when the men smirked wider, a muffled voice that belonged to the king’s attendant broke through the night.
“Welcome to the Hird!”
Laughter and claps and stomps followed.
“Sounds like they’re about to introduce the heirs. I think theking is busy,” the tallest of the men said, his shining eyes hungrily roving over me. “I thinkeveryoneis busy.”
I had half a second’s warning before he lunged.
As he made to leap around the fire, my instincts took over. Using two hands instead of one, I lifted my blade, and when I shot forward instead of retreating, the man stumbled. I used the moment I gained to kick kindling into his face. He screamed as the sparks landed across his skin, dropping the axe he’d sneaked into his hand to rub at his eyes.
I should have hesitated, but I didn’t. Slicing my sword through the air with a cry, I put my entire weight behind the strike. When the man’s head thudded to the ground, the spray of red angered the fire more, sparks furiously shooting toward the wooden ceiling and the rounded hole where smoke twirled toward the sky.
The karl’s head rolled to a stop right before my feet.
I kicked it aside, then planted my feet wide.
It wasn’t only the corpse that gaped in its mask of death. The three men still alive stared at me in disbelief, and the hollow silence that followed was more terrifying than any war-call.
Then the karls started toward me as one, and my heart shot into my throat.
“You killed an unarmed man,” one of them hissed. “You dishonor our people.”
“The gods are watchingall of us,” another said. “Even heirs are not above the divine.”
“The king won’t even punish us now,” the third added, his round face glistening with sweat. “There was no honor in her kill. No valor in his death.”
The hilt of my sword slipped in my damp hands, and I cursed to myself when the men split up, charging me from either side of the fire, their deliberate steps ringing in my ears.
They were right. I shouldn’t have killed a man without his axe. It wasn’t our way.
