Page 73 of Tears of the Wolf
“I see,” Cenric answered quietly.
“I’m sorry.” Brynn forced down the lump in her throat.
Cenric brushed his fingers along her jawline, just the ghost of a touch. “I would bring you the head of his killer if I could.”
Brynn shook her head, feeling tears well beneath her lashes. “There’s no point. We don’t know who it was.”
Cenric frowned at that. “Have you never wanted revenge?”
Brynn drew in a shuddering breath. “I am too full of grief to have room for bloodlust.” She had wanted revenge for her sister. Called for it, demanded it from her mother, Aelgar, and anyone who would listen. She hadn’t just wanted the blodgild, the payment owed to the family of a murder victim. Brynn had demanded the men’s heads.
But it had not mattered.
In the end, they didn’t know which of Winfric’s thanes had killed her. It was impossible to know and after two years of bloodshed, everyone was ready for peace.
All the same, Brynn held onto her bloodlust for years until it had wrung her out. Finally, she had lacked the strength to hold onto it.
Perhaps if she could have hunted those men down, but she had not been willing to sacrifice her obligations to Esa and the other people of Glasney to do it.
Revenge was for those with power and patience. Brynn had long ago recognized she did not have enough of either.
She was the type of person who would have to suffer the indignities and offenses of life. She was one of those who had to endure.
Cenric exhaled a long breath, looking past her. Brynn was sure her husband would have wanted revenge, would have found a way to get it. Perhaps he was stronger than she was, or maybe just more spiteful.
Cenric would be fierce as a father. She had tried to avoid thoughts of making him one, but it was oddly comforting to realize. He would protect their children and failing that he would extract bloody revenge.
“Brynn.” Cenric reached for her, and she let him fold her into him.
He didn’t kiss her as she expected, but he pressed her to his heart. Resting his chin on top of her head, he held onto her, sheltering her in the circle of his arms.
Brynn closed her eyes, her fingers digging into his back. She savored the now familiar smell of him and the firm solidness of his chest.
“You should be more selfish,” Cenric murmured into her hair. “This wretched world owes you something for a change.”
Brynn wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Cenric kissed the top of her head, pulling away, though he grasped her hands. “I’ll see you tonight?”
“You will,” Brynn promised.
He smiled down at her with what Brynn thought must be genuine affection. “I missed our walk last night.”
“Me too.”
Cenric
“Valdari ship! Valdari ship!” Kalen came racing along the riverbank, full speed toward Cenric and the other men.
“Where?” Edric demanded, straightening. There was a wild, almost eager light in the short man’s eyes. It had been some time since they’d had a good battle.
They’d finished bringing in the barley and threshing it over the past several days. All of them were glad to be done with that.
Today they were salting fish and packing them into barrels. The past few days had been an unusually good catch and the boys responsible for the fishing boats had asked for help. Cenric and all his men were in the sheds near the docks, up to their elbows in scales and fish guts.
Kalen pointed back the way he had come. “Coming up the river! With red sails!”
“Red sails?” Cenric already had his sword in his hand—he never went anywhere without it this time of year—but that gave him pause. “How many ships?”
