Page 86 of Blood of Wolves

“By the gods,” Erik said. “What are you – Magnus! What sort of sodding bandages did you use?”

“I’m…”Finedied on his lips. His eyes fell shut, and he couldn’t open them. Not for a long stretch in which the world seemed to tilt and whirl around him. When he managed to crack his lids a fraction, Erik’s face hovered above his, and blessedly cool air touched his flaming midsection.

A voice, possibly Magnus’s, said, “Shit, what is this? That’s no regular infection. I’ve never seen the like.”

Erik’s face was pale, haloed by too-bright sunlight, lips pressed to a thin line. “Just clean it.”

“But the flesh is clean. There’s no pus.”

“Then why isthathappening?”

Leif drifted. He dreamed, in the black oblivion, of things that sang in the dark.

~*~

A knot of soldiers poured down the staircase. “My lady,” their leader called, as they strode between the trestles, heavy, round shields on their arms, swords naked and glinting in the candlelight. “The prince has ordered us to block up the tunnels.”

Revna whirled on him. “All our rations are stored down there. If we block those bastards in with them, they’ll destroy everything.”

The hall buzzed like a swatted beehive, panic ringing in each hushed whisper and strangled inquiry.Our people, Revna had said, but Tessa’s throat was too tight to offer words of comfort to anyone.

“My lady?” the soldier asked, brows lifting up beneath the brim of his helmet.

“Evacuate these people to the upper levels.” She gestured to the citizenry milling in panicked clusters. “There’s plenty of room up there. Leave a few of your men here to guard the stairs. You, there,” she waved closer the guards who’d been on duty at the door, and along the walls, “go with these troops through the kitchens and to the mouth of the main tunnel. Stop them there and engage them.” To the first soldier: “If we lose our stored grain and cured meat, we won’t survive the winter, much less a long siege. Go.”

Boots slapped over the flagstones as they moved to comply.

“What of you, my lady?”

Revna drew her sword. “I’m coming with you.”

“Here.” Estrid appeared in front of Tessa; thrust something toward her.

Tessa blinked at it, terror making her thoughts sluggish. “What – what is this?”

“A sword. Here.” Estrid shoved it against her front, and she had no choice but to grasp it: leather sheath, simple pommel and grip, heaviness of steel pulling at her arms.

“But – but I can’t – and they’re–”

“Evacuate if you want to,” Estrid snapped, lip curled with disdain. “But there’s not time to worry about your feelings,princess.” She whirled away, drawing her own weapon, her friend at her side.

Revna and the soldiers were charging from the rear of the hall, as two guards ushered the citizens toward the grand staircase.

Tessa regarded the sword in her hands, its tooled belt and oversized buckle, and the first clear thought that pierced the veil of panic was, of all things, about Estrid.That witch. She was still so rude, and she still doubted Tessa, held her in contempt…

Tessa dragged the ends of the sword belt around her waist, and hurried after them.

~*~

Erik had seen carnage. Had dealt his fair share of it, in war. He’d seen hunting accidents, and training mishaps. Had lopped a man’s head off, only a month ago.

He’d never seen anything like the wound on Leif’s side.

Magnus was right: the edges were clean, and there were no obvious, usual signs of infection. No pus, no bleeding; the fluid draining from it was clear. But snaking out from it, shooting like lightning bolts across Leif’s skin, were black lines. Lines that were veins showing through from the inside out: black veins. Poisoned. That was the only explanation.

That was how Erik was choosing to think of it, because otherwise he might choke.

Leif’s eyes didn’t look right: fever-bright, the pupils oddly elongated.

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