Page 107 of Alliance Bride
Sig howled as they mounted. Curses. Pleas. Cries for mercy. But no one looked back. With Heida, Jorund, and the captured woman in the lead, they rode on as Sig’s final screams faded behind them.
Aevar soon forgot him, his mind centering only on Eadlyn. At least with her initial captors, she’d been relatively safe if the woman could be believed. The thought of her now in the hands of Kalgorans left him struggling to breathe. He gripped the reins tighter, whispering prayers for her safety and for success in finding her and freeing her. It would not be easy. The Kalgorans would fight and be more bent on killing their prey than allowing her to be rescued.
A few miles from where they had left Sig, the woman called them to a halt in a small clearing. “This is where we met the Kalgorans.”
Aevar searched the trees for any sign Eadlyn was near. Jorund jumped down from his horse to study the ground. They waited anxiously as he searched the perimeter and deeper into the forest. Finally, he jogged back.
“It looks like they turned west here. Not north.”
Aevar noticed Heida stiffen. “What is it?”
She glanced at him, her face pale. “They’re not taking her to Kalgora. They’re taking her to the Stone. They are going to sacrifice her.”
Eadlyn stumbled over a branch, and her foot twisted beneath her. Pain flared in her ankle, but the massive Kalgoran brute did not slow. He yanked the rope at her wrists, dragging her forward with such force she almost dropped to her knees. Her lungs burned from the exertion, and her head pounded, sweat rolling down her back and dripping from her temples. Ten days of riding, hardly any food, constant fear, and now this. Every step was a battle. Her legs shook beneath her, muscles spent.
Ahead of her, the seer walked with an unsettling grace, her long limbs moving smoothly through the forest brush. She never stumbled, never faltered. It was as if even the trees dared not touch her.
Eadlyn’s chest ached with every ragged breath. If they expected her to walk all the way into the heart of Kalgora, she wouldn’t survive it. But worse than the exhaustion was the heaviness, the weight of hopelessness pressing against her ribs. Her eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall, but she was so tired. So ready for it to end. Whatever fate they had in store for her, let it come. She couldn’t keep waiting for the inevitable.
Yet even as the despair threatened to consume her and make her question everything she believed, something deep inside clung to hope. She was not alone. God had kept her this far. He would not abandon her now. She had to believe that.
The trees thinned, the canopy giving way to sunlight. She squinted against the glare as they stepped into a clearing. In thecenter rose a tall, jagged stone, its surface covered with deep, sharp-edged runes. Next to it lay a second stone, flatter and wider, about waist high. It, too, bore runes carved along its edges. Moss clung to the cracks in the rock. A rusty red stain marred one corner.
The sight hollowed out Eadlyn’s stomach. It far too closely resembled how she imagined the pagan altars in Scripture. The hair along her arms lifted. A few feet from it, they stopped, and the seer turned to face her. Though her eyes were pale blue, something dark and menacing lived in their depths. The air around Eadlyn grew thick and oppressive, pressing on her chest and making her skin crawl, as if Satan’s influence were particularly strong here.
Fear clawed up her throat like invisible fingers and dried out her tongue. Her heart beat so hard it ached, but she swallowed against the rising panic and took a shaky breath. If this was where she was to die, she would do so with God’s Word in her mouth. Her voice wavered at first, but she clung to the verses with every bit of strength she had left.
“I love thee, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; My God, my strength, in whom I will trust; My buckler and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. I will call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised: So shall I be saved from mine enemies.”
The seer’s expression shifted, first confused, then wary, then angry. She snapped something to the men behind Eadlyn. A moment later, something flashed in front of Eadlyn’s face. A thick, scratchy strip of cloth yanked into her mouth, stealing her voice. Even so, she continued to recite verses in her mind, not giving in to the way fear tried to take control of her body.
The seer grabbed the rope at her wrists and yanked, dragging her to the altar. The already raw flesh around her wrists flared in agony, and she gasped against the gag. At the stone, the seer drew a long, thin knife, its hilt polished bone. A lump lodged in Eadlyn’s throat. She flinched as the seer reached out and cut the sleeves from her dress and shift, baring her arms and shoulders. Though the air was warm, a shiver spread across Eadlyn’s skin, trembling through her body in waves.
Then came the pouch, black and cracked, filled with the same tar-like substance the seer wore on her own skin. With a stained finger, she traced symbols on Eadlyn’s arms. Thick, sticky, ice-cold ink slid across her skin, leaving behind jagged runes. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Could only endure it.
The seer moved to her face, marking her cheeks, forehead, and the base of her throat. Eadlyn turned away, but it didn’t matter. When the seer finished, the Kalgoran brute behind Eadlyn knelt and tied her ankles. A fresh wave of panic flooded her.
Then he lifted her up. The gag smothered any sound, swallowing her gasp as the man laid her on the stone. The rough surface scraped against her shoulders.No. Please, no. She tried to gulp in a breath, but the gag suffocated her.Lord, please, I don’t want to die like this!She pulled against her bonds and tried to get up, but the Kalgoran shoved her back down. She was going to die here, so far from home and family. Tears leaked out, leaving hot streaks as they rolled down her temples.
The seer stood over her, the knife glinting in her hand. Eadlyn squeezed her eyes shut and cried out to God as she waited for the blade to plunge into her heart or slice across her throat.
A roar shattered the air.
Eadlyn flinched, expecting pain. Expecting the end. It took a moment to hear anything past the pounding of blood in her head, but when death didn’t come, she opened her eyes. The seer no longer stood over her. Movement blurred at the corner of her eye. The sounds of battle arose, screams, clashing metal, and war cries echoing all around her.
She bolted upright, tearing the gag from her mouth, and gulped air like she’d been drowning. Reaching for the rope around her ankles, she clawed at the knot. Her fingers slipped, but finally it loosened. She pulled the rope away, swinging her legs over the edge of the altar.
And froze.
The seer stood right in front of her. Their eyes locked. Dark fury poured from the woman’s face, and the blade slashed. Searing pain tore across Eadlyn’s chest. She stumbled back, hitting the altar stone with a cry. Blood welled, hot and fast. The seer lunged again, blade raised to finish the job.
Eadlyn threw her hands up, catching the woman’s wrist. The knife hovered inches from her throat. But she had no strength left. Her arms gave way, the blade dropping lower.
A choked gasp escaped the seer. Her body went rigid. The pressure behind the dagger eased, and Eadlyn just stared, unable to process what was happening until the woman toppled sideways to the ground. Aevar stood behind her, his seax knife dripping red.
Eadlyn’s vision swam.
“Aevar.” His name left her lips in a half-choked sob.
