Page 116 of Heart of Winter
With the sinuous, rolling gait of a predator, Erik walked around the kneeling prisoner, lifted his axe to his shoulder, and settled into position, feet braced apart. His awesome strength was evident in every line of his body as he lifted the axe – and brought it down.
Oliver forced himself to watch, only flinching a little, biting hard on the inside of his cheek.
Blood fountained in rhythmic jets, flowing with the last throb-throb-throb of Ormr’s dying heart.
The head rolled across the snow, the smirk replaced now by the last wide-eyed gape of pain and shock.
Erik handed the bloodied axe to Bjorn, turned, and walked silently back into the palace.
~*~
The great hall was deserted this early; the servants had finally cleared the last of the night’s drinking detritus, and only a few candles burned, set well away from the glittering, decorated fir tree that would be taken down today. In the silvery, pre-dawn glow, the garlands and wreaths and ribbons and baubles all struck Erik as needlessly gaudy.
He was halfway across the floor when Ragnar’s voice sounded behind him. “Iamsorry, cousin. You must know that.”
Erik ground to a halt. He could still feel the axe handle against his palms; could still feel the rippling impact of blade meeting bone and flesh in his elbows, and shoulders, and back. He took a careful breath before he turned around, and found Ragnar a dozen paces away, his posture – like it had been in the surgery – without resistance or aggression. Open and willing to accept whatever wrath was thrown his way. “MustI?”
“Ormr is dead,” Ragnar said, “and I’m on my way now to gather the rest of my men. We’ll leave before the rest of the palace is awake.” He edged a step closer. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Erik. I like Rune, always have. And” – the first note of steel in his voice – “if I wanted to challenge your rule, I would call you out myself. I’m not a Beserkir to slink along shadowy roadways and send assassins after princes.”
Erik didn’t respond.
Ragnar continued. “But what happened proves what I told you before: there is unrest in the Waste. There are those who no longer trust Aeretoll to stand watch on the border with the South. You have to come to the festival, and you have to bring Oliver. You have to prove yourself.”
“I have to prove myself,” Erik repeated, his tone flat. His hands curled, and he wanted the weight of the axe in them, steadying them, grounding him. “I’ve ruled this kingdom for twenty-three years, through the longest spell of peace the North has ever known, but I have toprove myself.”
Ragnar’s head titled back, eyes pale as a snowbank in the low light. “What’s more important? Your pride? Or the people you love?”
Erik suppressed a growl – barely.
“You’ve made your decisions, Erik,” Ragnar said. “And decisions have consequences, like it or not.” When Erik kept silent, he said, “Bring your lover to the gathering of the clans. Let them all see what you have seen in him. I’ll even vouch for him myself. But.” He took a step back, half-turning to retreat. “You cannot continue with things as they are now. You know you can’t.” He put his back to Erik, and walked away.
Erik thought of the blood on the snow outside, and wondered how much more he would have to spill in the days and weeks to come.
~*~
Before breakfast, Oliver went to tell Tessa what had happened.
“Oh, gods,” Hilda exclaimed, clapping both hands over her mouth and then speaking through them. “Not the prince! Oh, his poor mother. Will he – is he…?”
Tessa sank down slowly onto the edge of the bed, face gone pale, clutching the bedpost with one hand.
“He’s still alive,” Oliver said. “He’s still in Olaf’s surgery, but I think they plan to move him to his own room later today.”
“Oh my.” Hilda shook her head, her eyes flooding with tears that she dashed with the towel draped over her shoulder. “Oh, this is terrible. And then the king having to dothat. Just terrible.”
Oliver’s attention was on his cousin. Tessa stared into the middle distance, breathing through parted lips. He saw the moment determination overtook her: the way her jaw firmed, and her shoulders squared, and she stood, no longer unsteady.
She met his gaze. “I need to go to Revna. She’ll be a mess.”
“A bit of one, yes.”
Tessa nodded and reached for her mantle. “She’s down in the surgery?”
“Yes.”
“Right. Hilda, let’s go down and see if there’s any food we can take to her. She won’t have eaten, I imagine.”
“Yes, my lady.” Hilda sounded eager to have something productive to do.
