Page 40 of Heart of Fire
Benedikt’s back hit the headboard as he scrambled up the bed, staring at his reddened skin. “Blessed father, watch over me,” he whispered, his heart thumping like arabbit’s.
He scrambled for the chamber pot as his stomach suddenly heaved, too overwhelmed by the thought of what had happened. Real. Far too real. Benedikt vomited into the pot, piss splashing against his face. He was held captive by his stomach, however, until the wave of fear wrung everything fromhim.
Ripping his nightshirt off, he wiped his face and collapsed in a heap against the wall,shivering.
That bitch must have set the dragon uponhim.
There was more than one way to answerthatinsult. He shoved to his feet, and reached for his clothes. He was halfway into them when the dreamreturned.
“If you so much as look in her direction, I shall roast you alive,”the dragon hadhissed.
Benedikt swallowed, then he slowly dragged his trousers up his legs. It wasn’t as thoughhewas going to do anything. Not overtly. That was what he was paying othersfor.
He considered the thought for a long moment, turning it over in his mind to find the flaw in hisargument.
There was none. He couldn’t just accept thisthreat.
And he had a dragon hunter up hissleeve.
The dragon had to be dealt with. And Benedikt knew just the way to doit.
* * *
The fire crackledas Haakon nursed his horn of ale in the village taproom. Another long, seemingly pointless day stretched behind him. The frustration ached, but he knew to be patient. Today they’d mapped Krafla, finding no sign of thedrekiitself, but plotting where the best place to set the ballistalay.
Turning the silver pendant his wife had given him over in his fingers, Haakon rubbed the embossed metal. A hawk in full flight gleamed, its wings flared and its eyes seeming to stare right throughhim.
“A hawk for a hunter,”Arja had teased as she lay beneath him the night of their wedding, and looped the chain around hisneck.
He hated the fact the memory had grown ragged around the edges. He knew her face, but when he pictured her, somehow the image wasn’t quite fully formed, as if he was forgetting parts of her. Hair the color of spun gold crowned her face, and eyes like polished amber stared up athim.
Six years of misery. Six years since thedrekistole her fromhim.
Haakon’s fist closed over the pendant. He could wait another night or two, so long as his patience gained him what hedesired.
“Who are you looking at?” Rollo demanded with sneer, his loud voice cutting through the taproom laughter. “Don’t think I won’t ruin that pretty face ofyours!”
The enormous man shoved to his feet, fist drawn back as he launched himself toward the youngest of their company, but before Haakon could move to restrain him, another wasthere.
One of his newest recruits, Magnus, caught the man’s wrist and shoved Rollo against the wall as if he didn’t weigh the same as a bear. His lips curled back from his teeth as Rollo’s attention turned from the young hunter to this newestthreat.
“Keep your hands off my brother,” Magnus warned, and that voice sent a chill throughHaakon.
He pushed to his feet, recognizing the danger signs. His men were hungry for a kill, and the careful planning and days of unsuccessful hunting were wearing at them all. If he didn’t stop them, blood would be spilled. “That’senough.”
Both Magnus and Rollo looked at him, though Magnus’s expression didn’t change. He and his brother, Andri, had joined Haakon’s party in Akureyri, lured by the sound of plentiful coin. Though he had enough men, he’d taken one look at their hardened eyes and battle-ready frames and known warriors when he sawthem.
Which was precisely what he’d need, where he wasgoing.
“Focus on thedreki,” he told the room of watchful men. “You’ll get your blood soonenough.”
“When?” Gunnardemanded.
“Aye,” Jon snarled. “When do we take the dragon’slair?”
The rest of the men echoed him, thumping fists on table, and clapping their tankards on the trestle tables. Haakon held his hands up, the pendant chain curled around two fingers. “Tomorrow!”
A chorus of cheers wentup.
