Page 40 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

“Then where did you learn how to…you know…?” He put up a hand, slightly bent the end of his fingers, and opened his mouth like he was a monster or attacking wolf.

“That’s none of your business.”

“I think it is.” He stood. “It’s how you’re going to kill me, isn’t it? How does it work?”

“I’m not talking to you about it.”

“What happens when you do it?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“But I want to know now.”

“All you need to know is that you will get what you deserve.”

“Whatever has happened to you has obviously made you stronger and more fearful. Isn’t that enough?”

“You might like being feared but I don’t. Because of you, I have been turned into this…thing. I am cursed and it is because of you.”

“Who cursed you?”

“Someone else I was wrong to trust.”

“Then they should be here in my place. I did not do this to you.”

“If you hadn’t left me behind, then he wouldn’t have found me. I wouldn’t be like this. I would have been beside you and we would—” He stuffed his words back down his throat, closed his mouth, and breathed deep through his nose. “What’s done is done and you will pay the price for your part in it.” Absolon headed for the door.

“Then let me pay for it with money. I promise you can have all of it. Use it to buy yourself a whole herd of horses and a pack of hounds. There’s enough there to keep you and your farmstead for fifty years.”

“Fifty years? And what of beyond that? What will become of me then?” Absolon grew agitated from the idea and fidgeted and fretted like he was the one trapped in a cell. Ragnar had exaggerated the depth of his coffers, but surely Absolon did not believe he would live much beyond his seventieth year. Very few farmers ever did. But it seemed a question that bothered him immensely.

“There will be someone for you, Absolon. Someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated. Someone who loves you.”

The words shook as they came out of Ragnar’s mouth, but they stiffened Absolon to stone and his gaze narrowed. The agitation fled.

“Your money is worthless, and your attempts at bargaining are clumsy and insulting. You will die, Ragnar. And that is the end of it. Hold your tongue and keep your own counsel until then, and pray God forgives you because I sure as Hell won’t.” He slammed the door.

That night, Ragnar sang again, his breath clouding as it left his body. The glow of the lantern appeared, but Absolon did not demand he keep silent. And though the songs remained melancholy, Ragnar’s heart filled with hope.

---