Page 55 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Chapter 6

The morning had stolen Absolon from their bed, and the afternoon did not return him. At first Ragnar thought it possible Absolon had merely gone for a walk in the forest but, as the hours stretched with no sign of him, that idea lost all credence. Perhaps Absolon had gone to the village again for supplies.

He had been left alone before and Absolon had returned, but as the sun passed its zenith and continued to its rest, he was forced to hunt out his own food, catching a hare and cooking it over the hearth. He left a leg out for the dog and stood inside the doorway while he ate, watching across a moonlit fallow field for sign of Absolon’s returning glow. He stayed until even the moon had gone to bed.

He slept badly, listening for any sound of Absolon, but he was rewarded with nothing but the wind and an owl’s mournful warning. Had Absolon abandoned him? Had his request proved too much and now the soul-eater had gone in search of another home, one far from Ragnar and his petition? Had Absolon seen through his self-serving demand? Then why not stay and tell him no? Why not banish him, or take him to someplace far from here from which he could not return? Absolon had that power.

The next day was no different except for the tension thickening in Ragnar’s neck and shoulders. He was a fool. He’d pushed Absolon too far too fast. He should have waited until midwinter. That would have given him more time to ply his honeyed words to make it appear like Absolon’s idea all along. He had been too eager for it. Nothing to do with wanting to hide from that look in Absolon’s eyes, the one that wanted and believed Ragnar could give him so much more.

Heroes always had to make the hard choice, and this was his. A thousand years could pass in this enchantment, and the world would move on and forget about Ragnar the Red. Time would take his enemies and rob him of his triumph. Then there’d be no place for him in hallowed halls. What kind of life would that be?

He would stay a while longer. He couldn’t disprove that Absolon was not nearby, watching him, seeing what he would do when he was on his own. He’d show that he would stay, that he was genuine, that he waited for Absolon and not for Absolon’s power.

So he chopped firewood for the stockpile. He oiled the tools. He went far enough into the forest to reach the stream and caught fish for his dinner.

And he waited at the door for Absolon to return.

What would it be like to stay forever?

A bitter wind answered and cut him to the marrow.

The slamming of the storeroom door brought him out of his somber musings. He stalked off to investigate and met Absolon coming around the corner. The moon blessed him, and he shone with the light of a hundred souls. The magnificence of the sight stole Ragnar’s breath. If he were a religious man, he would have fallen to his knees and praised the heavens.

But he was not a religious man and he had no use for God.

Still, he would fall to his knees before Absolon.

Absolon almost walked into him, lost in his own thoughts.

“Where were you?” Ragnar asked.

“I had to…do something.” He pushed past him and washed his hands and face in the trough.

“I thought you might have left me for good.”

“Only you would do that, Ragnar.” He went into the farmhouse and dried his face on a cloth, while his accusation dripped into the cold pit of Ragnar’s stomach. “I thought about what you asked.”

“And?”

Absolon threw the cloth on the table and stood with a hand on his hip. “You need to understand that this is not something to be done lightly, that it turns you into something that even I don’t fully understand. The hunger to feed on souls can be…”

“I understand. It can be difficult.”

“No, that’s not it.” He sank onto the edge of the table and expelled a heavy breath. “It’s easy. It is so easy.” He shook his head at the marvel of it. “At first you think you can’t do it and that it will disgust you, that you’ll never do it again, but it’s almost impossible to stop. There’s a hunger in you that’s never quite sated, and it tells you that you want to do it, that you want to take that soul and feel it inside you.” He licked his lips. “And when you do, there’s sadness, but there’s also joy, and there’s anger, and hate, and fear, and love, and every single thing that person has ever felt passes through you. And once it’s in there, you are filled with a divine ecstasy.” He paused. His eyes shimmered. He tilted his face to the heavens. “And once it’s done, you regret it, but you want it again and you know you’ll have it.”

“That sounds familiar,” Ragnar chuckled.

“This is not funny, Ragnar.” He bared his teeth. “This is life and death and it is inescapable.”

“It always has been.”

“But for you, now, you can choosenotto kill,notto take a life. You can live a life where you do not harm another. Do this, and you have no choice but to kill or die.”

His heart stilled, frightened of beating lest it scare Absolon away. What would it be like to feel that power?

“It is no different for me. I would have it. I would be what you are so I may ease your burdens as well as my own. I would share the winters and the summers with you. It would be like it was before, the two of us against the world.”

Absolon stood, his hand opening and reaching for him but closing in a fist, too scared to touch. “But it could be that way now, without me doing this, without me cursing you.” He slumped back onto the edge of the table.

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