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“You speak to a future king, you sod. Do you think he is not willing to pay for what he wants?” Thane was the one who spoke. “Despite what I’m sure you’ve heard, Dravens are, at times, diplomatic.”
Give me the price, I told him. Not including the seasons she has worked off her debt.
“Well, there’s the matter of the boy’s debt too.” Brokk shifted on his feet, looking at Lyra as she finished reciting my demand. “Two mouths to feed under my watch, use of my blades, it’s double.”
Get me the price by dawn.
“We’ll see you at the dawn,” Lyra explained.
Brokk flashed a wolfish grin. “As you say, Highness.”
His voice dripped with condescension, but his breath shuddered when I crowded him, our brows close. But if you touch either of them again, I will see to it you pay with your soul.
I did not wait for his response to Lyra and gestured for Jordis and Sindri to take the path ahead of me back to the longhouse.
“Although I appreciate the sentiment,” Jordis whispered in a low hiss, “the debt is vast. Brokk is a bastard, but he has many loyal men who would defend him, and he is a skilled warder with blood. That is the arrangement. Sindri will be protected from any harm if he is merely on Brokk’s land, behind blood wards.”
“We’re not leaving you here,” Lyra said. “Nivek gave his life defending us, and we will defend his family in turn.”
43
Lyra
Roark looked like a villain from dark legends. His black tunic, leather, and boots stood out among the brilliant colors of the Unfettered attire. He leaned back at the table, glaring at the revelry with a dose of heady disdain.
Jordis was there, complying with the commands of Brokk in the hall. She poured ale, avoided Brokk’s taunts, and Sindri was not welcome at all. Brokk insisted that the boy had tasks left to complete at his longhouse.
Brokk thought it was a bit of delight, ordering his thralls about in front of a prince who’d yet to take ownership of the debt; I knew his every action was being stitched to the memories of a darker piece of my husband.
A darkness that would not soon forget.
Roark Ashwood was a man who defended his own. He would be a villain on their behalf.
The hall was not as grand as Stonegate or the Draven palace, but it was warm and spiced with herbs. Folk danced, ate, and sang folk songs I did not recognize. Thane and Auki took up conversation with the Lawspeaker.
The man was listening to the Jorvan prince, but when he would reply, Thane’s face would flush in a touch of frustration. My heart tightened at the sight of Emi and Yrsa seated down the bench, heads close, whispering.
Gods, I hoped after all this their hearts could still heal. We would need to stand with one another if we were to stop Fadey and Ingir.
“They’ll need to die.” I turned on the bench to face Roark. “Fadey and Ingir.”
That was always my plan. He pressed a kiss to the center of my palm.
“I thought we’d need to destroy the Wanderer’s bones and that would be enough to stop him. I thought they were buried. It is no wonder that I could never see them but Skul Drek could sense them.”
They are buried. The lore simply never specified that they were buried within the living.
I chuckled and traced the lines of his hand with my thumb. “Sindri is one of the remnants now. Fadey does not know of him, but he knew of the heirs. He must suspect something.”
Roark used his other hand to gesture against the tabletop. He will never get the chance to learn of him.
“We will need the Dark Watch,” I said. Thoughts I could not shake rolled through my mind. “I don’t know what becomes of us when we return over the Night Ledges. It feels like there has been a shift in the very soil, as though the land knows a battle rises.”
Roark picked at a sliver on the table for a breath. Thane is trying to convince the Unfettered to join us. Fadey is one of their own, and he has gone against their laws.
“Do you think they’ll stand with us?”
So far, it seems like the Lawspeaker is not interested.
