Page 37 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

Absolon slipped from the room and returned with a shovel and another bucket to clean what Ragnar had left behind. Like he was a stabled horse.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s for my comfort, not yours.”

Ragnar closed his jaw tight. Absolon never used to speak to him in such a manner. The younger man had been nothing but reverent, thankful for everything that Ragnar had given him, every encouraging word, every firm stroke, every deep ploughing. He could not let it rankle him.

“Thank you all the same.”

Absolon stopped and studied him with a quizzical frown. He picked up the bucket and walked towards the door. Of course, he would be suspicious. Ragnar knew enough of himself to know he was not one to show gratitude. But damn, did Absolon mistrust him so much? If so, then he had a long way to go to win him over, and he may not have enough days left to achieve it.

Absolon left the bucket outside and leaned the shovel against the wall opposite. He began to pull the door closed. As the light retreated, it wrenched Ragnar’s words from his body.

“I’m sorry, Absolon.”

He stopped.

“I’m sorry for what I did to you, and I’m—”

“Say it.”

“What?”

Absolon opened the door a little wider. He straightened his spine and broadened his chest. “Say what you did to me, so I know you understand.”

“I’m sorry I locked you in that farmhouse and left you behind.”

“Wrong answer.” His hand tightened on the door.

“I’m sorry I left you for dead,” Ragnar blurted. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you. I wanted to. I did. I never wanted to leave you there in the first place.”

Absolon filled the doorway. “No one has ever made you do anything you didn’t want to do. You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t knowyou? Tell me why. I want to hear the truth.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“Lies. Try again.”

“They wanted you dead, Absolon. It was the best I could do.”

He flinched but pressed on. “Your best was not good enough. One word from you and that notion would have flown from their heads. They were all cowards, but then again so are you. Now, again, why did you do it?”

“I don’t know what other truth to tell you. They wouldn’t have stood for you remaining with us.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Say it!"

“Because you didn’t fit into my plans.” His mouth twisted on the words, wrung so forcefully from his heart. “I’m sorry.”

Absolon approached. “You don’t know the meaning of the word, but you’ll learn. When your time comes.” Absolon crouched in front of him, well within Ragnar’s reach, but the scowl on his face was warning enough to not attack. “I had wondered if the deaths of thirty men would make you see, but you have overseen the deaths of hundreds. I was blind to think it would make a difference to your heart, but you are Ragnar the Heartless.”

He was wrong. He held onto Absolon’s gaze as the shame in his wary heart grew heavy. His men had wanted Absolon dead, as proof of his commitment to their band. It would have assured his place above them.

Ragnar the Heartless.

But he couldn’t go through with it. He had been stuck between following his goals and succumbing to his heart. He had compromised and from then, his authority had never sat easy. He had fought them to leave Absolon alone and alive. He’d paid for his abandoned lover’s freedom and had worried whether that peasant had completed his charge. He’d passed more sleepless nights than he could count hoping Absolon were alive.

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