Page 102 of Alliance Bride
Back in camp, Sig was awake and saddling his horse. His mouth contorted in a sneer as he watched them. When the others began eating, Eadlyn wasn’t sure she would receive anything until Asfrid passed her a handful of wrinkled berries and a strip of salted meat.
Between bites, she eyed Sig as she debated. Now that Asfrid knew she understood Nordric, it probably wouldn’t take long for the others to find out. Might as well learn what she could.
“Why take me to Kalgora?” she asked no one in particular
Sig’s head shot up. “So the princess has been listening.” His grin was all teeth. “As much as I wanted to keep you for myself, my uncle had other plans. You’re to be a gift. A peace offering to the Kalgorans so when he becomes king, they’ll support him.”
“And what makes him think he’ll ever be king? Even if he manages to defeat Runar, the other jarls won’t just fall in line.”
Sig shrugged. “Nordra needs strength. The alliance was weakness. Eventually, the others will see that.”
She shook her head. “I think he underestimates the respect Runar has from the other clans. It takes more than strength or force to rule. A good leader has both strength and humility. He understands the wisdom of cultivating relationships with those around him. He thinks of his people and not only of his own power. Things neither you nor your uncle seem to understand.”
Sig’s smirk didn’t fade. “Well, once Runar’s dealt with and my uncle has the support of Kalgora, there won’t be much choice but to follow him.”
His words oozed with arrogant certainty. Was there already a plan in place to kill Runar? An assassination rather than anhonorable challenge? “So murder Runar, ally with Kalgora, and threaten the other jarls into obedience. That’s your uncle’s plan?”
“Pretty much.”
Asfrid and Dagr rolled their eyes. Either they didn’t think too much of this plan or were annoyed over his blabbing about it so freely.
Eadlyn barely had time to think before Sig leaned closer, his voice like venom. “And once the king is dead, I’ll take your beloved Aevar as my prisoner. He’ll beg for death before I give it to him.”
Her stomach recoiled, but she didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. She finished the last of her berries, eyes locked with his. Little by little, his grin faded.
Finally, she said, “You talk a lot for someone half the man Aevar is and who shamed himself in front of the other jarls.”
Color flooded Sig’s face. He lunged at her, the back of his hand striking her hard across her face. Her knees buckled, and the earth rushed up to meet her. Shouting and a scuffle rose over the ringing in her ears. When she regained her senses, Dagr was restraining Sig.
Asfrid grabbed Eadlyn’s arm and yanked her upright, dragging her toward her horse with a muttered curse. “You’d do well not to provoke him if you want me to keep him away from you.” But, just for a moment, she glanced at Eadlyn with something like grudging respect. “Not that he doesn’t deserve it.”
Something wet trickled down Eadlyn’s chin from her stinging lip. When she touched the back of her hand to it, it came away smeared with blood.
Asfrid sighed and dug a cloth out of her pack, handing it to Eadlyn.
“Tahk,” Eadlyn murmured and used it to slow the bleeding.
Over by his own horse, Sig fumed, still uttering curses. Dagr shook his head, shooting Asfrid a sharp glance, but said nothing as he checked their gear.
After a tense few minutes, they all mounted. Asfrid kept Eadlyn’s horse close to hers and turned to her brother. “Hang back and cover our trail.”
Dagr gave Sig a wary look before nodding, and Asfrid led them deeper into the forest.
Her face throbbing, Eadlyn peered over her shoulder. The trees blurred behind her, but no rescue came. Where was Aevar, and how long would it take him to find her?
Chapter Thirty-eight
Aevarstaredintotheforest as dusk closed around them like a tightening fist. Shadows stretched long across the undergrowth, cloaking the trees in smoky gray and silencing the birds one by one. The wind had stilled, and all that remained was the faint rustle of leaves overhead and the slow, steady crush of hopelessness settling deeper into his being.
So many trees. So many endless, indifferent trees. And still no sign of Eadlyn beyond the occasional hoofprint or broken twig. None of it enough to say she was even alive or chase away the haunting thought that she might already be lost to him forever.
Nine days.
Nine days they had been on the trail. Every day they rode farther north, closer to Kalgora, and still she remained just out of reach. It was like running toward a star that never got any closer. The weight that had been pressing down on him descended with such force he struggled to breathe.
He closed his eyes against the burn behind them. Would he ever see his wife again? Would her voice and laughter become onlya memory like Thora’s? Would he have to carve her name into stone beside Thora and Brenna and grieve for another life lost too soon?
The ache in his chest was sharp now. His throat thickened with it, each breath a battle. The grief he’d kept at bay all these days roared to the surface, threatening to break him wide open. His life teetered on the brink of shattering once again, and he didn’t think he could survive it this time. Not again.
