Page 101 of A Light So Blinding
“Oh, my sweet sister. He cannot trap me. I’m so much stronger than I was when we were children.”
Astrid stood when the door to their home burst open and Bjorn came careening out. He had her new blue dress in his hands and wore an expression that was better suited for war than it was this moment.
“Come on,” he snarled. “We’re telling King Egil to go fuck himself.”
The blustering weight of his anger startled even her. But then Bjorn froze, looked at Astrid and her sister, before correcting himself. “Sorry, Rose. Didn’t see you there.”
Her sister seemed to relax at least a little. “That’s all right, Bjorn. I’d be just as angry.”
Astrid had a hard time believing Rose even remembered what it was like to be angry. Maybe that would help her in many of the situations she struggled with these days. What if her sister went with them? Raged at the men who’d harmed her, killed them all, and left victorious? Perhaps soaking in their blood would fix some part of her that was still hiding deep inside her body?
But Rose hadn’t even been able to kill a bug. Astrid remembered how hard her sister would work to catch the smallest housefly and release it outside because it wasn’t fair of them to murder an innocent. She didn’t like harming anything at all, and that... Well, that had always been Rose.
Astrid had a feeling that trait hadn’t changed in the slightest since they’d been children. Most likely, her sister would only hurt more if she took part in killing those men.
Sighing, she stood and walked over to Bjorn. “Gunnar is inside, I think. Why don’t you join him there, Rose?”
Her sister scuttled off, and Astrid took her place beside her husband. Bjorn looked her over, clearly furious, but at least that anger wasn’t directed at her. It never was.
He handed her the dress without a word. Astrid dropped the robe to the ground, pulled her dress on over her head, and then made sure the robe was folded up by their front door. Hopefully, no one had been looking, but really the trolls seemed so much less concerned about the physical form than her own people were. It was kind of freeing.
“Let’s not keep the king waiting,” she reminded him. And together, they headed back toward the castle.
He took her on a shorter path this time, a strange route that seemed to go through a few small portions of the mountain itself before arriving at the castle on a back path. She was surprisedthere was even a way for someone to get into the castle from behind. But then again, the trolls did like to have ways to get out of any situation. She’d heard in battle they were almost impossible to pin down.
There were countless people in the castle, yet again. But this time they all appeared to be warriors. She had never seen so many weapons all in one place, nor so many people wearing them all at once.
Every troll ignored them all until she heard the whispers start up again.
“That’s the Destroyer’s son.”
“Bjorn has returned?”
“I didn’t know we had a berserker on our side. We surely cannot lose now.”
All of those whispers were a weight on Bjorn’s shoulders. He grew tenser and tenser the closer they got to the king’s chambers where they had met the last time. This time though, Bjorn threw the doors open without asking.
King Egil and a few other much older looking trolls were at the end. One of them was a woman wearing the same clothing Bjorn’s mother had worn. Bones were threaded throughout her hair like beads, and she looked Bjorn over with a soft smile on her face that made him pause.
“Vilde,” Bjorn said, his voice tinged with surprise. “You still serve the king.”
“Of course I do, boy. I have always served the king.”
Bjorn leaned closer to her and murmured under his breath, “The king’s smoke reader. A very renowned prophetess.”
“Ah.” Someone to be honored, then.
Astrid carefully bowed to each of them in the room. She was graceful as always, poised in a way that spoke of how many kings and nobles she had dealt with in her life. But just as she opened her mouth to compliment them, to woo them into telling herwhat the plan was, Bjorn decided to bullishly shove his way into the conversation.
“I’m not doing it,” he snarled. “You want to use me as a weapon, and I understand why. But my fighting days are over.”
“We need you to fight,” King Egil replied. He waved a massive clawed hand in the air, dismissing the words. “And so you will. Your loyalty is to your people, Bjorn. Always has been. Always will be. You will do what I tell you to do.”
“I will not fight.”
“Vilde has already seen the future, Bjorn. You will fight, and you are the key to ensuring that we win. You will serve your people as you are best suited. Your bloodline has always led our battles, and we always win when one of you serves us.” He shrugged. “We have already made the plans. You will take a warband through the front gates. The human king does not expect us to attack, and there are fewer guards there during the day. It is a solid plan.”
Astrid could see Bjorn tensing. It wasn’t a very good plan. They all knew that.
