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He grinned, the white of his teeth stark against his painted face. “Trust me, Saga, I come from royal blood, but I’m a thief in my heart. What you see has not been leadership, it’s been a scheme to steal a kingdom once again.”
“I don’t care how it was done, I’m still grateful.”
Gunnar dipped his chin and nudged me forward once we reached the end of the short burrow. “Come. I’ll take you to your king.”
Chapter17
The Raven Queen
This was notthe Court of Blood I’d left behind. Blood fae watchers marked nearly every ten paces at the gates. Bone-splitting spears were in every grip, and they stood stalwart as stone. Then again, stone was the other difference. Shattered bits of stone limbs, torsos, and plenty of heads littered the shrubs around the blood court.
“Rune,” I whispered.
Gunnar’s jaw pulsed. “He’s proven his loyalty over and over, Saga. Last night, Lord Gorm had to force him to stand watch over Ari simply to give him time to rest. His glamour is terrifying, but deadly to him should he keep using it so forcefully.”
I sidestepped a stone head. The fae’s face was cracked, and his mouth was ajar in a silent, eternal scream.
“You force Rune to serve you!” Bo shouted at my back. “If he dies, I won’t forget. I’ll avenge him with your blood.”
My heart pinched. For a few moments there was almost something tender, something afraid, in Bo’s tone for his former warrior brother. The outburst left a bit of wonder that perhaps Rune’s feelings were not unrequited after all.
“Rune saw the truth, Bo,” I said, despite the knowledge that arguing with him was pointless. “I hope you will too.”
The blood fae watchers moved aside when we stepped toward a spiked gate. Two guards pulled back the heavy door and bowed as we stepped inside.
Breath caught in my throat. Not so many days before women wore classic satin gowns, and men with strange eyes laughed as they went about their lives.
Now the Court of Blood was a war camp.
Those laughing men now sparred in organized units. Steel clashed, grit and pebbles skidded beneath boots. Powerful blood fae with slight fangs, or red eyes, or pronged tongues like Bjorn, barked commands. Warriors shifted through stances at each word.
Women passed out sharpened blades. Some threaded arrows with crow feathers. Others had taken up weapon belts and daggers and stood guard as fiercely as the men.
Calista spun around, taking it all in, the same bemused expression on her face. I opened my mouth, ready to query about her thoughts or if she had any impressions, but was stopped by a thick sob.
“Raven sweetling!” Hodag burst from Gorm’s longhouse, twenty paces off. Her voice carried over the slashing blades and battle commands, and all eyes seemed to pour into me, halting me in place.
The troll roared her tearful relief to the heavens, then rumbled forward. Trolls were not soft creatures; they were brisk and thick. Hodag moved like a rolling boulder down a hillside. She pummeled through the warriors, knocking folk out of the way, until she slammed into me.
I was tossed back against Gunnar’s broader frame. The prince chuckled and held me steady as the troll squeezed my ribs until I feared they would snap.
“Ho-Hodag,” I grunted, patting her head. “Air.”
She sniffled and pulled back, swiping at the big, glassy tears. “You came back to us. Nick of time, sweetling. Nick of time.” Her eyes shot to Bo and the ropes around his neck. A snort of air puffed from her nose. Hodag marched in front of Bo, held his eyes, then kicked him square in the shin.
“Godsdammit!” Bo crumpled to his knees and glared at Hodag. “You bleeding—”
“Hush.” She swatted the back of his head. “Been wretched, dark sweetling. The most wretched of wretched. Break our poor hearts, you did.”
Stieg’s deep, rumbling laugh coated Bo’s mumbled curses at the troll. “No one stomps on the heart better than Hodag. All we need to do is send her to this battle creature’s camp for a good reprimand, and he’ll be begging for forgiveness.”
Hodag flushed when she looked to Stieg, as though she hadn’t noticed him before. The troll hugged his waist, her head only reaching his ribs, then she pressed a kiss to his dirt-coated palm.
“Missed ye most.”
Stieg laughed again and led Hodag to get acquainted with the visitors. She studied Calista and Stefan for a moment longer, eyes narrow. “Something strange about ye two.”
“Not the first time we’ve heard that,” Stefan laughed and struck a matchstick to light his new herb roll.
