Page 124 of Edge of the Wild

Erik closed his eyes, expression so woeful and long-suffering that Oliver couldn’t keep from chuckling. “Gods,” he whispered. “I hate it here.”

“I don’t know,” Oliver said, as Ragnar strode down the hill toward them. “The views are rather lovely.”

“We have lovely views at home,” Erik said with a mock growl. “And decidedly fewer cousins to pester us.”

Oliver felt his smile stretch.Home.Us. He didn’t know if it would ever stop being a thrill.

“Erik,” Ragnar called again, closer now.

Erik sighed, composed himself, and turned to face his cousin.

Hisgrinningcousin.

“Look who’ve stumbled upon,” he said, light eyes dancing. “You’re both so sweet I could choke on it.”

“Yes,stumbled,” Erik said drily. “After you almost broke your neck chasing us down the hill.What, Ragnar?”

In a theatrical aside to Oliver, Ragnar said, “Ah, the King’s Hall, hm? Not much privacy. He’s always grumpier when he’s not getting fucked. Then again, he’s grumpy when he is, so who can tell the difference?”

Oliver resented the flash of amusement – Ragnarwascharming, in his own, mean way – and schooled his features.

Erik did not. He scowled. “I suppose everyone should just fuck out in the open like you – like a pair of wild dogs.”

Ragnar shrugged. “Do you want to know what was said after you left the meeting, or not?”

Erik took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His face was that of a man working very hard not to punch someone.

Ragnar finally seemed to get the message. He nodded, and grew serious. “Shockingly, theJotunns were the first to throw in their support.”

Erik’s brows lifted.

“They may be warmongers, but they aren’t fools. Sigr’s wife has his ear, and she’s a sensible woman – so far as aJotunn can be sensible. They don’t believe Aeretoll is acting as an agent of the South.”

“Probably because itisn’t,” Oliver said.

“The Ákafamaðr are a different story, though.”

Erik said, “From where they sit, they will haveseenthe Sels invade Aquitainia. How could the Southerners asking for our help be a ploy when they have purple banners waving from the roof of the fortress at Radial?”

Ragnar shrugged. “You know as well as I do that reasoning isn’t their strong suit. They say that we should launch ships – and go raiding in the South, while it’s at its weakest.”

Erik snorted. “They’ve never gotten beyond Radial’s farm district. They have no concept of the vastness of the South.”

“No, and I doubt they’ll be so good as to let you show them a map. They know only one thing: taking. They’ll never be on your side.”

“I didn’t count on them.” Erik hesitated a beat. “What of the Beserkirs?”

Ragnar’s expression hardened. There was no trace of the jocular, swaggering persona that had first come down the hill now. “You’re on your own, there. I will not treat with them – not after I lost seven men to them. They’ve revived the old shaman practice, and they should be cut from the council for it.”

“Until we’ve taken a shaman into custody, and seen for ourselves, in the daylight, we can’t throw accusations around.”

“Accusations! I saw them! Leif saw them!Yousaw them! And half your lords and men. What do you think held sway over that cold-drake? Have you stopped telling the ghost stories round the fires in Aeres? About the men with stag’s heads and hawk’s talons? I know bloody well that little necromancer of yours knows something about it. Ask him.” He stepped closer, voice low and vibrating. “Did you not hear the screams last night?”

Oliver started. “Screams?”

Erik said, “I didn’t hear anything.”

“Excuse me,” Oliver said, head spinning, “butI did, and you told me it waswolves.”

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