Page 99 of The Last Valkyrie

I watched Corym down below embrace a beautiful female elf, and a twinge of jealousy hit me. Abruptly, I remembered whathe’d done to bring the elves to our gates, promising to wed Zentha E’lain.

How in Hel do you plan to get out of that one, love? Because I would hate to have to kill that pretty handmaid, but over my dead body will I let that wedding take place.

When I squinted harder, I recognized the elf he hugged from my time in the elves’ captivity. “Oh shit. That’s Corym’s sister, Deitryce.”

Sven cocked his head. “A princess, if they’re related? Could she be leading the regiment?”

“I think they’re all called princes there, regardless of sex. I’m not sure . . .” I trailed off as elves near the back began to part, allowing a tall, cloaked, hooded man to march through the sea of bodies. “No,” I said, pointing, “I thinkthat’sthe leader.”

I believed I was staring down atMaltorVaalnath, thein’kylinsovereign of Heira Nation. They were surprisingly unassuming, not flaring their colors like the others or showing any sort of crown or bauble to denote their status. If anything, their dark cloak seemed to hide their features and station rather than accentuate it.

It was the way the elves moved around them, however, that tipped me off to their importance. Elves saluted, bowed their heads, and showed deference. Corym kneeled and put his forehead to the ground when Vaalnath approached, in a sign of subservience that surprised me.

“The great mother-father of Heira and the Princes, eh?” Magnus said with a smirk.

“Mother-father,” Sven said, sighing. “That shit still baffles me.”

“Well, you’d better get used to it, man, because we’re going to need all the help they can give us.” I slapped Sven’s arms and grabbed Magnus’ hand next to me. “Come on, let’s skedaddle.We’ve been gawking spectators long enough. It’s time to get to work.”

Vikingrune Academy was transformed into a wartime training ground that morning. There were no more classes to teach history or learning of scholarly knowledge, sadly. It wasn’t only because Thorvi Kardeen was no longer around—Tomekeeper Dahlia easily could have taken her position as history professor.

No, it was because the situation was so dire now. The elves were here, beginning our defense operation. The Hersirs hadn’t shown themselves yet and were locked away in Fort Woden, undoubtedly discussing Gothi Sigmund’s death and who the next Gothi would be. The jotnar were creeping ever closer.

The entire academy buzzed with nervous energy. Axel Osfen’s training courses grew from a few dozen students to over a hundred per class. They were multi-age classes, with initiates and cadets of all years sparring alongside one another.

There was a sense of organized chaos to the training regimen. Thane Canute joined the sessions, adding hand-picked Huscarls as TAs and tutors to help catch everyone up to speed.

Hersir Jorthyr was notably missing as a hand-to-hand tutor, even though he’d said he would help Axel.He’s too busy politicking and vying for more power by becoming Gothi, of course.

I snorted at the thought, parrying two initiates with my spear when they came at me together. I pushed the lads back, spinning to make them tumble as their legs knocked together in a tangle.

As one of the guys plopped on his ass and his friend helped him up, I slammed the haft of my spear down on the grass.

Gazing out, the sun shone on Tyr Meadow, which was packed full of students locked in simulated combat.

Leveling my gaze at the two initiates, I said, “You two are the best your villages had to offer?”

“Hey, screw you, giant-slayer,” one of them said. He was a fair-faced boy with nary a hair on his chin. Didn’t even look old enough to be here.

I grinned at him despite myself. “I’m teasing. It might seem smart in theory to charge me together, to try and overwhelm your enemy.” Circling them, I kicked at the indentation of the ground where the guy’s ass had landed. “As you saw, a skilled opponent will use that against you, making you fall over each other. Footwork is everything in a fight.”

I remember Corym teaching me that.

. . . And Korvan.

I suppressed a shudder, briefly remembering with horror how the Swordbaron had transformed before my eyes into that callous, malevolent being. How he’d held his cruel sword to my mother’s neck.

Was Korvaneverthe man we thought he was? Or was he a shapeshifter even when I was a whelp, pretending to act sage, wholesome, and fatherly?

“Oi, you hear him?”

I blinked, staring at the guys blankly.

The one talking nudged his chin behind me.

I turned to see Corym calling me over with a wave of his hand from the edge of the meadow. Frowning, I said to the guys, “Find another cadet to spar with. Maybe they’ll go easier on you.”

One of them scoffed, and as they walked away I heard the second one mutter, “Thank the gods. That bitch is ruthless.”

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