Page 106 of Alliance Bride
Aevar saw the opening—Sig’s exposed belly, wide and vulnerable. He stepped in and swung. The blade tore through wool, skin, and muscle. Sig gasped. His sword slipped from his fingers, clattering on the ground. He bent forward, hands flying to his abdomen, trying to hold his insides in. Blood gushed between his fingers in dark streams. Staggering, he bumped into a tree and slid to the ground with a hissed breath and a curse.
Aevar stalked toward him. Blood roared in his ears. He yanked Sig’s seax knife from his belt and tossed it aside. Then he seized him by the front of his tunic and hauled him upright.
“Where is she?”
Sig laughed, a wet, choking sound. “She’s gone.”
The heat of battle evaporated into ice. Aevar’s heart failed to beat for a moment.
“I very much enjoyed her company…”
The filth that came out of Sig’s mouth burned through everything inside Aevar. He couldn’t even understand the words. Just the sound of his own blood rushing with the urge to kill him. To kill him right now. His vision darkened. He gripped his sword tighter, one heartbeat from plunging it straight through Sig’s throat.
“He’s lying.”
A woman’s voice sliced through the haze.
Aevar spun. The woman they’d captured knelt beside her fellow prisoner, flanked by Braan and Heida.
“He didn’t touch her,” she said flatly. “He tried. I didn’t let him.”
Sig hurled a curse at her, but Aevar barely heard it.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
The woman hesitated. “We handed her off to a group of Kalgorans. Less than an hour ago.”
The earth seemed to tip beneath Aevar’s feet. Every muscle in his body locked into place.
Heida yanked the woman to her feet. “You’d better show us.”
Aevar shook himself loose and turned toward his horse. They had to move.Now.
But the woman called out again. “Wait. Check his pouch.”
Aevar stopped and turned back to Sig, ripping the pouch from his belt. He dumped its contents into his hand. Eadlyn’ssilver arm ring fell into his palm. His breath left him as if he’d taken a blow to the gut. The symbol of his vow. Stolen from her.
“What about him?”
Aevar tore his gaze from the arm ring to see Ingvald motioning at Sig. Everyone looked at Aevar. Anyone else would have killed Sig right then and there. The urge seethed inside him, but he remembered something Eadlyn had read in Scripture. Something that had made no sense to him but now echoed in his mind.
Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.
Indecision held him in place, rage and uncertainty wrestling inside him. He turned to his father as if he might find an answer there. Though his father couldn’t know what he was thinking, he seemed to understand Aevar faced some sort of dilemma.
Shifting his attention to Sig, Fathir eyed him with contempt. “Leave him to the wolves.”
Sig made a strangled noise. In the end, whatever they chose, he was a dead man. Not even a skilled healer could have done anything for him in this condition. His fate was sealed. He might last an hour or two, but eventually he’d bleed out if a wild animal didn’t finish him first. This far north, wolves and predators were plentiful and always hungry. They’d find him before nightfall.
For perhaps the first time, the arrogance drained from Sig’s face. He looked around frantically until his gaze settled on something behind Aevar.
“Give me my sword. Or my knife. Something.” His voice trembled with desperation.
To die without a weapon was to be denied Valhalla. A Nord warrior’s greatest fear. Aevar didn’t move. Worthless as the peace was, he couldn’t find it in himself to give that to Sig. Not after all he had done.
When Sig shifted as if to crawl toward his weapons, Braan snatched them from the ground. Sig reached out with one bloodied hand, but Braan just glared at him.
“I think I’ll give these to Eadlyn when we rescue her.” He turned and carried them to his horse.
