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"What is it?"
"You'd better not let anyone else realize you're better. I don't think he'll let you take it back. He's too ambitious. Wants it too badly."
"You think he has the support to stop me? Or split up the men?"
"He has his supporters."
"But would it split them up if I challenged him?"
"Depends on if he lived, I guess. It might."
Gunnar leaned back against the canvas wall and considered that. He was right, of course. The only answer was to get rid of Valdemar permanently, but it wasn't something he was particularly looking forward to.
No, he'd much rather not do that. But it had to be done. "How bad would it be to let him keep it?"
Leif looked at him, an eyebrow cocked. "Let him keep it? Yo
u're getting old, Gunnar."
"Not forever, or even very long. You don't think he's too dangerous, though, do you? Too arrogant?"
"Will he get anyone killed, do you mean?"
"That's exactly what I mean."
"No, not so far. We'll have to see. He doesn't exactly go running off in the middle of fights, either."
The comment stung, but he deserved it. "I don't want to leave anyone to be put at risk. He's too arrogant, too aggressive. Always looking to fight. Valdemar doesn't like to take rests, doesn't like to wait. If he could fight from now until he collapsed from exhaustion, he'd do it," Gunnar said.
The flowers were distractingly beautiful. Haunting. They made him think. What was the point of any of this? Why was he here, why had he brought his men here? So that they could all work hard to destroy places like this?
And yet… he shook his head softly and tried to push the thoughts away.
"Well, if you're planning on making your move, I would suggest that you do it after tomorrow morning's raid. He can't exactly protest, can he?"
"Are we that close? I can't see anything out of this damned cart."
Leif nodded pensively. "A few miles outside. Maybe an hour's march into town, I'd say."
The raven-haired man stepped down from the back of the wagon and nodded to Gunnar. "Tomorrow, we'll fight, and then you can make your move. If you wait too long, I think you'll find fewer and fewer men want to take orders from someone who's been lollygagging in the back of a cart. Even—especially if it was with a girl like the one you're with."
Gunnar smiled at the comment. Yes, especially with a girl like Deirdre. That was very much right. He watched the flowers, but now that he was alone the questions came back. What was she doing in there? What took so long? If she were giving a simple report, she would be out and back shortly. She certainly wasn't in Valdemar's tent trying to figure out how to cure his immortality.
He immediately tried to push away the sting he felt at the thought. She could do whatever she wanted to do, and more than likely it had nothing to do with wanting. If she was doing… that, then she was doing it because she was doing what she had to do.
But couldn't she have come to him for help? Couldn't she have asked him to solve her problems for her? He was as strong a warrior as any he had ever known, and certainly among the strongest she knew.
Perhaps it was his failing as a warrior that had sent her away, but he doubted it. Even still, he didn't want to think too hard about it. Every thought that he had only seemed to lead to further frustration.
When he heard footsteps coming around the back of the wagon, he let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Finally she was back. Would he ask what had happened, or would he pretend that he wasn't worried about it? Neither seemed particularly ideal.
If he brought it up, then he looked pushy, even demanding, and she already clearly badly enough of him, whether she was attracted to him or not. He would do well not to make his situation any worse than it already was.
Yet, the question burned inside him just the same. He had to know, even though it was nothing. Even though she had just been told to go report, and she had gone as ordered.
He'd made up his mind just in time for her to climb up into the back of the wagon, accompanied by another one of the men. One of Valdemar's, he reasoned, and it made good sense that he would be.
Then another came, and another, until there were five men standing outside, and the one tying Deirdre's hands back down. Gunnar realized what was happening a moment too late as the man tying Deirdre turned and clipped him on the ear with an elbow.
