Then why is he plotting against the jarl? Planning to steal some fancy ring for some distant ruler… probably a queen! Afancy, velvet-covered, fair-skinned lady. Stealing to satisfy her greed. He probably satisfies her in all types of ways. A thieving Jotnar pig. A born pervert.
I’m shivering, and it’s not even a cold night. I wrap a sheepskin around myself, holding my hands to the fire. Maybe it’s Ari’s curse. Maybe the freezing flash has poisoned me with his foul energies.
Ari’s face enters my mind, uninvited. His warm smile. The shine in his eyes. The weight in his voice when he said ‘I would do it again.’ Sometimes he looks at me in wonder, like I’m some mystery he yearns to unravel. A question he must know the answer to.
What does it matter? The man is a living monster. He will steal from the jarl. People may forgive me for inciting Ari to duel Njord, but if I get caught up in his plans, I cannot imagine any other outcome than my death. Sacrificed to the very gods who have offered me power. Perhaps they will welcome me into their halls.
The sweet scent of birch hits my nostrils. I always loved that smell. It makes me think of my childhood, when everything was simple. When the only worry was which tree to climb next, which bird to chase off. The odd bucket of water to carry to camp.
I stand, shaking to rid myself of this unrelenting chill. A cup of warm nettle tea will help. It will calm me so I can sleep.
The free folk fear me. If only they knew about Ari. That beautiful man has some dark secrets stashed under his hearth. If I want to live, I better stay away. Better stay back.
No way I’m getting caught up in his plans.
Caught up in his lies.
CHAPTER 56
Faint memories of angry neighbors—ungraspable rules of a game that is taken for granted. Images vanish as I jolt awake at a sudden sound.
What was that?
A violent knock on the door. Impatient.
Groggy, I put on my robe. Who the fuck knocks before the sun rises? The reality of the situation hits me. Someone who wants to avenge Njord? Someone who knows my machinations?
Silly fantasies. Why would they knock to murder me?
“Who is it?” I ask through the door.
“Open up,” a familiar voice replies.
Finally!
“I’ve been looking everywhere for?—”
As soon as the door creaks open, Eidunn rushes in. A seething storm. Nails whip across my face, tearing my skin. My hair is pulled toward the floor as a fist connects with my face.
“What the fu?—”
“Fucking bitch!” she shouts, holding my head down while ripping my hair from side to side.
My instinct flares. If I end up on the floor, kicks are what awaits. A good kick in the face can be lethal. I swing with all my might in the general direction of my opponent, landing a punch right between her ribs.
“Oof,” says Eidunn, forced to release my hair.
Free, I take steps back to the furthest corner.
“Fuck’s sake, Eidunn,” I pant.
She catches her breath. In the dim light, I can barely see her face, but I don’t need to. I can feel her rage in the air between us. Blind fury directed at… me.
“Fucking bitch,” she screams again, stepping to my hearth and grabbing my knife. “I told you to mind your business.”
She circles the table, pointing the knife at me. Ice-cold terror speeds through my veins. This is fucking serious. I rotate away from her along the wall, keeping the table between us.
“I was trying to help!” I shout.
