Page 94 of Tears of the Wolf
Svendi leapt back up to his feet, watching the other men on the beach, but none of them made to join in. Hróarr seemed to be content to let Cenric handle this one. Maybe he knew it had been a while since Cenric had gotten to fight—reallyfighta worthy opponent.
Cenric dropped his spear, beckoning for Svendi to come closer.
“Cenric…” Hróarr’s voice was low, a warning. “Now is not the time for antics.”
“Lord?” Kalen sounded genuinely worried.
Cenric faced the Valdari raider, motioning the man closer.
“You’re either mad or stupid,” Svendi grated, long blade held in front of him.
“We’ll see.” Cenric smiled, morbid excitement shivering down his spine.
Svendi swept in, aiming for Cenric’s gut. His knife was long, but it brought him in close, within grappling distance.
Cenric blocked the knife with his forearm. The blade screeched as it scraped along the iron in his bracer. He felt the blade catch, the impact would leave a bruise, but it didn’t meet skin.
Svendi couldn’t recover in time to avoid Cenric’s fist.
Cenric’s knuckles slammed into the side of Svendi’s face. The man’s whole head snapped to his right, and he sprawled into the sand.
Cenric slammed a boot down over the man’s knife hand. Dropping to the ground, he straddled Svendi, slamming his fist into the man’s jaw a second time.
Svendi grunted, bringing his left arm up to block. Something flashed and Cenric noticed in time to block a second smaller knife. He grabbed Svendi’s wrist, using gravity and his weight to pin that hand beside the first before slamming his knee down into the raider’s chest.
Svendi cursed, thrashing ineffectively.
“Are you done showing off?” Hróarr muttered, sounding impatient.
With the man pinned under him, Cenric considered his options. He could bring Svendi’s head as he’d told Brynn, but he had a better idea.
“Rope,” he called over his shoulder. “We’ll take him alive.”
Svendi cursed and struggled, flailing uselessly on the ground. Kalen brought the rope, and they trussed up the Valdari raider like a pig for market.
Between Hróarr and Cenric, they hauled him up into the ship as the rest of the men finished loading.
Cenric shook the sting out of his knuckles as they set sail under cover of darkness, leaving before anyone had the chance to miss Svendi or notice they’d left.
They camped on a nearby island for the rest of the night to wait for daybreak. For the first time since marrying Brynn, Cenric had a foretelling.
He was alone on a beach, stumbling over black rocks worn smooth by the waves. The ocean stretched to his left and a wall of pine trees to his right.
It was a place near Olfirth’s lands, somewhere along the south portion of Ombra.
Desperation clawed at Cenric as he searched the driftwood, fish bones, and seaweed washed up by the tide. He spotted the pale shape of a body lying at the edge of the water, just washed in by the waves.
“No,” he heard himself say. “No, no.” Cenric reached the shape and crashed to his knees, reaching to roll the corpse over.
Brynn was white as death, eyes staring into space with seaweed matted in her hair—drowned.
Thick ropes bound her arms from wrists to elbows.
Brynn
According to Anders, Cenric’s thane who had returned two days ago, Hróarr had been right about the raid on Leofton. But now Cenric had gone with the Valdari mercenary to Valdar for some reason having to do with Osbeorn.
Brynn was terrified to consider what that might mean, but luckily, she had a much more immediate concern.
