Page 48 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Ragnar looked up. “I am?”

“What Lysander did to me wasn’t your fault, and while I don’t think there’s a person alive who could say I’m not justified in taking my revenge on you, it won’t make things right. In fact, it’ll make it worse.”

“How so?”

“Because when you take a soul, you have the chance to experience everything in that person’s life they’ve ever felt or done. I don’t think I could handle knowing—one way or the other—whether you ever truly loved me, and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from finding out.”

“What are you saying?”

Absolon grabbed the keys, took up Ragnar’s wrists, and undid the manacles. “I don’t want to kill you.”

He almost laughed. “Are you sure? This isn’t some game?”

“I am not Lysander. And I’m not you.”

Ragnar rubbed his wrists.

“I’ll get you some new clothes…again…then you can go.” Absolon left the cell, leaving the door open, tempting, inviting.

Could he trust it? Could he trust Absolon? Or would he be struck down the second he left the cell? He waited. He couldn’t leave anyway, not with his balls flapping in the breeze. And not without knowing more of Absolon’s power. He refused to believe in God, but if he did, he’d entertain the notion that divine providence had brought him there and he would have Absolon’s gift bestowed upon him. Greatness would be his at last.

Absolon returned empty-handed with a sheepish bent to his body. “I forgot that was the last set.”

Ragnar laughed but not too hard in case it offended. “It’s fine. The blanket will do for now. Besides, I don’t want to leave.”

Absolon blinked. “What do you mean? I’m letting you go. You have to leave.”

“Is that because you don’t want me here?”

Absolon hesitated. “You don’t belong here.”

He took a few steps closer to Absolon. “What if I want to stay? With you?”

“I’d call you a liar.”

“Come on, Sol. Where else am I going to go? I’ve got no band of brothers left. I haven’t even got any clothes. I’m wanted in only God knows how many counties.”

“Then why not head for that hoard of plunder you’re so proud of?”

“I don’t know where I am and with no horse and no provisions andno clothes, I can hardly leave right now, can I? Look, you were going to keep me for three weeks more. Why not let me stay while I figure things out?” He let the blanket drop a little. “I’m sure we can make the time pass quickly.”

“The whores of Stockholm have nothing on you.”

“Is that a yes?”

Absolon’s mouth moved like he was sucking on pebbles. “Fine. You can stay, but three days at the most. I’ll bring you some straw to make a bed.”

Ragnar’s eyes bugged. “I’m not staying in this cell, Sol. There must be room in your home for me.”

“I might be letting you go, but you still don’t deserve comfort. It’s either here, or nowhere. My generosity will extend to keeping this door open.”

Every time he thought he could twist Absolon one way, he got twisted around the other. “Very well. Straw it is.”

Absolon gave a half-smile, the first sign of merriment in the time he’d been there. He could work with that. A smile from Absolon was as good as any declaration of love, and he’d need as many as he could manufacture if he wanted Absolon to turn him into a Darisami.

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