BASTIAN
My wife wanted to have a chat with my former fiancée. What could possibly go wrong?
If I thought she’d physically hurt Eleanor, I wouldn’t have let them go. Yet Sigrid was far too clever and manipulative not to do some kind of harm. Not to mention the harm Eleanor might do…
Eleanor’s look of betrayal flashed in my mind, and I winced. We’d been promised to each other as children, and she’d always taken the duty seriously. Even when she was just a girl, four years younger than me, she’d scrunch her pretty face into a solemn expression anytime I was near, and then she’d inquire how she could serve me. She’d only ever wanted to be a dutiful wife, and I hadn’t been able to give her the love she craved in return. I’d seen her as a nuisance when I was a boy, then an unwanted burden when I was a young man.
For the first time, I saw her as an actual person, which only made my betrayal harder to stomach. It wasn’t like I’d chosen tocome back and parade a new bride in front of her, but that didn’t change the outcome. My actions had led to this, and somehow I’d make it right. I’d see her married to a man who deserved her devotion.
Eleanor was angry at Sigrid for other reasons too, and she had every right to be. We’d been so young when Eleanor’s brother was killed. I hadn’t known Sigrid had a hand in it.
But Sigrid was roughly the same age as me. How old had she been when her father began to use her powers against his enemies?
The Saxon court would never accept her…which brought me back to the questions I hadn’t had time to properly consider in the chaotic days leading up to the wedding.
Why had my father forced me to marry her? Why had her father sent her here to the Saxon court when she was his heir? In her case, it was perhaps simply to punish her for being disobedient, but there were other ways the Viking king could’ve accomplished that.
I didn’t believe for a moment either of them had done it to achieve peace. Yet I knew so little of what had been happening here in recent years that I couldn’t piece together the full picture.
“Tell me about the Shrikes,” I said to Arnulf as we made our way to the training grounds.
Arnulf quickly glanced around like he was trying to decide how much he could say. “They started as nothing more than rumors years ago. There have always been bandits in the pass who attacked unprotected travelers, no matter how much we try to patrol there.”
I remembered being sent on patrol as a teen, lying awake at night while listening for the sounds of an ambush. “The wooded mountainous terrain makes it nearly impossible to hunt them all down.”
He nodded. “But they grew bolder than any bandits in the past, attacking wagon trains protected by royal guards and mounting their corpses along the road like the shrike birds do with their prey. They’re exiles from other kingdoms, people who have nothing to lose.”
I frowned. “And they grew in strength as their reputation grew?”
“Other exiles joined them, criminals and outlaws. They use their knowledge of the terrain to their benefit. There’s no way to get through the pass without paying his toll now. And those who refuse to pay it are mounted on pikes as a warning to others.”
To allow such defiance to go unchecked was unlike my father. How could he have let it get this bad?
To ask such a question aloud would be treason, but it lingered in the silence between us.
“Had your father been sent to make the pass safe for travel again?” I asked, wondering how a warrior such as Wulfstan could’ve been slaughtered by mere bandits.
Arnulf turned shifty once more, looking around guiltily. “No, my lord. Not on the king’s orders. He asked to take a company of men, but the king refused. My father couldn’t stand idly by and allow the common people to suffer because the only major trade route was impassable. He took a company of volunteers, and my mother went with them to make it believable that they were simply going to visit relatives in Mercia.” The agony of grief passed over his features. “They forbid me to go with them, knowing I might be charged with treason for it.”
I stopped and put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll make it right, Arnulf.”
He nodded solemnly, then looked at my side quizzically. “Did you lose a knife, my lord?” Arnulf asked, nodding to the double sheath that usually held my traditional Saxon daggers. “I thought I’d given them both back to you.”
I reached to grasp the single handle where I should’ve felt a pair.
Sigrid.
She’d taken a knife and gone off with Eleanor. The two facts weren’t necessarily related. Sigrid most likely only wanted a knife because she was unaccustomed to wandering around completely unarmed.
Most likely.
But the animosity from Eleanor had been palpable. As I tried to convince myself to trust Sigrid and keep walking, all I could picture was Eleanor baiting her again, only to find out what my wife could do with a knife.
“I’ll meet you at the training ground,” I said as I was already turning back to the castle.
I just hoped I wasn’t too late.
The closer Igot to our chambers, the faster I walked, just barely managing not to break into a run. When I burst through the door, Eleanor stood pointing my dagger at Sigrid’s throat. Terror squeezed my chest, even though I rationally knew Eleanor was in more danger than Sigrid.
