The Beast of Salt (Saga of the Gods #1)

34. Sigvid

34

SIGVID

November 16th, Year 100, 9th Era

Scarwood City, Timber Province

“ W e are here.” Sigvid taps out his pipe as the horses stop in the shadow of the massive redwood forest with the towers of Scarwood Citadel towering over the treetops.

Dawn basks the cream-colored stone in an orange glow, causing the three warriors to pause and awe at the imposing architecture.

A high wall crafted of thick wood surrounds the city and the castle. Five gates are positioned along the wall and guarded by several Timber guards at each entry point.

Luckily for them, their first destination lies on the city's outskirts.

“Never thought I’d see this city again.” Grim pats his horse aimlessly while taking in the scene. “Gods, I’ve missed Timber.”

“Rouse me when they lug out those sweet wine casks.” Slode quips.

“The Timber Que-” Sigvid clears his throat, “Avina said we would arrive at the Hound Master’s house along the northern boundary of the city walls. Let us make quick work of him.”

The trio are hooded to conceal their obvious Salt attire of leather armor. Eventually, they stumble upon a hut with an iron fence surrounding the rear. Packed in the space behind the ramshackle home is a dirt enclosure filled with bones and no less than thirty malnourished hounds.

“Fucking asshole.” Sigvid growls.

Filth coats the poor dogs, who swat uncomfortably at the haze of gnats circling their heads. Some limp, others chew on the iron pen from apparent boredom, and a couple lay motionless.

The warriors dismount, tying the reins for the horses behind the stretch of one ample tree trunk. As they sneak nearer, the back of a squat bald man digging in a crate greets them.

Sigvid can hear a faint meowing from the box and then fully notices the other nine crates—all with multiple sets of eyes peering out of the makeshift holes.

“Come here, you shit. I have to feed a few hounds today.” The Hound Master hauls a ginger cat out of the crate by the scruff. He vigorously shakes the creature composed of skin and bones. “There,” he huffs once the cat stops struggling, “I can’t have you hurtin’ my hounds.” His laugh is scratchy and inhuman.

Sigvid withdraws his axe and throws it, amputating the Hound Master’s right hand. The blade embeds in the grains along the outside wall of the hut.

The ginger cat scurries into the woods, the discarded hand clutched in its mouth.

“Quickly!” Sigvid orders in a hushed tone.

They jump the Hound Master, shoving a dirty rag in his mouth to stifle his cries—no need to bring Timber guards upon them.

“Good morning, Hound Master.” Sigvid smiles, “Queen Avina sends her regards.”

The grubby man’s eyes widen as he thrashes in Grim and Slode’s grip.

Sigvid slams the blade of his other axe through the Hound Master’s remaining wrist, spurting blood all over their pants when the left hand flops to the ground. Despite the cloth, his howls still carry.

“The hounds will take their revenge on you. Let’s see if they like your taste first.”

He slices a chuck of his unwashed skin along his forearm and tosses the bloody clump to the starving dogs, who fight over the meager scrap.

“Ravenous! I bet you wish you had fed them more.”

Sigvid flips his steel dagger and slices the Hound Master’s right ear clean off before anyone can react. He tosses the hunk of flesh into the fenced area, allowing the smell of blood to entice the hounds.

Sheathing their axes, Sigvid and Grim drag his body further into the grass, leaving a streak of blood in their wake.

“Now!” Sigvid commands Slode, who unlatches the gate.

The dogs take little time to find their master bleeding out in the grass. He begs as the hounds converge, ripping his flesh apart piece by piece. His hideous screams hardly phase the men who stand around the carnage with unmoved expressions.

“Do you hear that? Justice.” Grim crosses his arms, tilting his head to the side as they all watch the dogs tear into his tissue and muscle, shredding him in a furious mist of crimson.

After the hounds finish their meal, Slode examines the remains. “Barely left any bones.”

Sigvid watches the hounds scamper off to the woods.

After releasing the crates of screeching cats, the group reconvenes to sneak into the castle.

“Avina said she has a secret escape stairwell leading to her chambers, which should allow us to get close to Samson.”

Slode halts them. “Can we take a moment to appreciate the irony of what we are about to do?”

Sigvid and Grim both turn around.

“Sig,” Slode continues with a bitter chuckle, “you and I spent every evening planning to breach the gates and storm Scarwood City. I am sure you had no less than twenty ideas for Avina once we captured her. Yet, now, we are using her secret stairway to sneak inside her castle, retrieve her pet, and apprehend the man trying to kill her.”

Sigvid sighs, massaging his temples. “Trust me, the irony is not lost.”

“At least you recognize that.” Slode claps his back. “Alright, we can go now.”

They slide under the forest's darkness until the city walls connect with the side of the castle. Sigvid finds the hidden door and enters an abandoned servant's quarters.

Slode’s words reverberate in his mind as he concedes how easily they could have taken the citadel.

How annoyingly real his fantasy could have been of binding her helpless while he ravaged all of her holes.

For denying me my fictitious vengeance on her throne, I will bind that woman in every room of Blackwood and fuck her until the only name she knows is mine.

It becomes clear that the intention of this secret passage was not to enter the castle but to escape it.

Following Avina’s carefully detailed instructions, they wind through the cobweb-infested steps, dodging the occasional rat. Eventually, they reach a pale white door that leads them to the back of a closet.

“Samson took up residence in the King’s quarters beneath us.” Sigvid breathes to Grim and Slode.

Considering her current state in Blackwood, no one should be inside the Queen’s Chambers. Regardless, the trio remains silent lest Samson set a trap.

“She suspects he will take his morning meal alone in his study. We will grab and bind him swiftly. Then, take him straight to the horses. I will meet you with the cat.” Sigvid puts one finger to his lips and then gently opens the back of the closet.

Her tantalizing scent immediately accosts him. Awful flowing Timber gowns in bright colors nearly trip them on their way to creak open the closet door.

He makes a mental note to commission her a dozen Salt-style dresses when he returns to Toftlund.

Confidently, he strides into her bed chambers with far more intention than he should have. He expected a dark staleness in the air from her absence. He was definitely not expecting a lit candle and a woman sitting on the edge of the bed in a salmon-colored nightgown.

Her groggy eyes, weighted from sleep, squint at the trio of Salt warriors now invading her room.

Slode has a hand covering her mouth and the other squeezing her throat before anyone else can react. He applies just enough pressure until her eyes droop, and she slumps back onto the bed.

“Did Avina lead us into a trap?” Slode uncharacteristically snarls. “Keep your enemies properly cuffed, Sigvid.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Fellas,” Grim interjects, keeping his baritone voice smooth, “not the time.”

Slode nods his head, but Sigvid does not relent.

“No, speak what you mean!” Sigvid hisses, fighting to keep his voice to a whisper.

“You kidnapped a Queen and locked her in your version of a castle. Considering everything we went through with the war, it was only a matter of time before her Ridge smarts bled through, and she sabotaged you.” For once, Sigvid wants Slode to rant at him. Yet, in his typical style, he is calm and respectable.

Fuck, he’s not wrong .

Has she set them up? Is her deal to stay willingly all a ruse? Did she recommend he take Grim and Slode to deliver them all to Timber?

“Gentlemen,” Grim places a hand on each of their shoulders, “let us recall the nature of the lady in question and the motive for betrayal at this juncture.” He looks between them.

Slode’s shoulders slump, and he nods. “She brought closure to Kar’s family. ”

She has been pivotal during the water crisis, uncovering Sven’s remains, killing Ives, and caring for his farm.

And, of course, Thora.

Then again, she had tried to escape him. Perhaps his decision to have Kar and Helga monitor her while he was gone was best.

“Happy morning!” A high-pitched, bubbly young woman hollers into the room. They can hear her bouncing into the study. “Mistress Brigitta?”

Again, Slode is the first to move. The young servant woman’s back shoves against his chest with his axe pressed at her throat. In terror, she scatters the fresh linens to the floor.

“Don’t yell. We just have a few questions.” Grim maintains a charming smile that has her swooning.

“Y-yes.”

“Is this not Queen Avina’s room?” At Sigvid’s gruff question, she jerks in Slode’s arms.

“It was, s-sir. Duke Samson requested that most of Her Majesty’s belongings be moved to storage to make room for his mistress.”

Well, that explains things .

“I need to know where Avina’s cat is kept?”

The servant shakes her head. “No. You will not hurt Nellie like you hurt Her Highness!”

He grumbles so loud he sounds like a damned animal growling at her. The girl’s eyes widen even more, and her struggles against Slode amplify. She is like a mouse attempting to thwart the clutches of a snake.

They are running out of time before someone discovers their presence in the castle, and despite their individual might as fighters, he is cautious about leading two men to confront the entire Timber army–the biggest in Treland.

“Avina is safe. We are rescuing her cat and need to locate Duke Samson.” Slode grumbles in her ear.

“You are Salt warriors. Drengr. Rumors out of the Treland Arena say Prince Sigvid captured Her Highness.” Her cheery tone wavers to the fear she should have felt in the first place. “You are here to kill all of us, aren’t you?”

The Salt Prince is in her face in a flash, forcing her to lean shakily away into Slode’s chest. “I am Prince Sigvid Thordsson. I took Queen Avina from the Arena, naked and screaming. But if you can believe it, she is safe and chooses to remain with me.”

There is no need to mention her current situation is temporary.

“What is your name?” Grim asks the servant girl whose ‘wrong place, wrong time’ situation seems to be breaking her quickly.

“Joetta.”

“Joetta, I sense you are loyal to Her Majesty.” Grim’s voice lulls even Sigvid to make him want to believe anything he says.

Does this man have a Sacred Stone power?

She nods. “She is wonderful. All the servants love her. She treats us respectfully and has done much to help the little people of Scarwood. I-I am even attending the school she developed for women.”

Sigvid cannot help but smirk hearing her talk about his Avina.

“And Nellie? Do you know who has been caring for her?” Grim coaxes.

“Oh, we have been keeping her down in the kitchen, in a small cupboard. That way, she is safe until our lady returns.”

“Thank you, Joetta.” Grim nods at Sigvid.

“Slode, let her go.”

Slode drops his axe hand. Joetta massages her throat where his blade has pressed. “I will only take you to Nellie and then to Queen Avina's items if you swear to bring her home and kill Duke Samson. None of us want another King Rendel.”

“I swear, as Prince of Salt, Samson will die by our hands. Now Joetta, where is Nellie?”

“She and the Duke are in different directions.” She gathers the discarded linens and places them on the dresser.

“My friends here would love a private meeting with him.” Sigvid gestures to the others. Grim is already cracking his knuckles.

“Leave it to me.” Joetta disappears for a longer time than Sigvid is comfortable.

She finally returns, looking pleased with herself.

“Samson is eating his morning meal in his chambers just down the main stairs. We staged a distraction a few floors down, keeping his servants preoccupied. Your Majesty,” she curtsies to Sigvid, “we are to collect Nellie.”

Grim and Slode leave the bedchambers, heading to detain Samson.

Joetta leads Sigvid out into the hall and down a servant staircase. They twist through the castle until they stumble onto a deserted wing with a line of closed doors. Joetta unlocks one to reveal a collection of chests, crates, and other assorted items. Only when he finds a leather journal with ‘property of Avina Bloodstone’ scrawled on the first page does he realize these are her belongings.

What a piece of shit.

Samson’s supposed fiancé found herself captured three weeks ago by the most fearsome warrior in Treland. His response is to send one man to appeal to Salt, and then he packs her items and locks them away, never speaking of her again.

A pinprick against the back of his neck coerces him to meet Joetta’s scowling expression, clutching a dagger with both hands.

“You stole her from us. She deserves to be our Queen, and you took her!” She is blubbering. “I know what you’ll do to that precious kitty. I heard what they said in the Arena. You will use Nellie against Her Majesty.”

“I would never hurt an animal. You should see what I did to the Hound Master for killing cats.” The satisfying memory of the hounds devouring his flesh is still fresh in his mind. “What rumors have there been?”

He could disarm her, but now he’s just curious.

She digs the point of the dagger deeper into his skin. He respects her passion even if exaggerated stories have misled her.

“There are many! Your hate for our Queen after she defeated you. You tricked her, dragging her to Salt so you can torture her slowly in the most gruesome ways imaginable.”

“Interesting, but untrue.”

Sigvid squeezes her wrist until she squeals, and the dagger clatters to the floor. He kicks the door shut while twirling her tiny blade that amounted to an overgrown toothpick.

“I will forgive this little outburst because your help until now has been impeccable.” He flips the dagger until the point rests under his chin.“I am known for a great many things, Joetta, but harming animals is not one of them.”

Joetta scoffs. “Your words are meaningless.”

It would be so damn easy to choke this girl out. Or threaten her the rest of the way to Nellie. But, an Avina-sized grip keeps him restrained.

Damn that fucking woman and her fucking hold on me.

He slips a hand into a pocket of his tunic, and Joetta’s eyes track his every move. “Do you know what this is?” He holds out a lock of golden hair tied with twine.

Her eyes bulge. “Queen Avina’s hair. I helped her cut that to send to you.”

Sigvid nods. “I have kept this,” he slips the curl back into his pocket, “since I received it all those months ago.”

“Why did you kidnap her? Try to kill her if you feel something for Her Highness?”

She is asking too many fucking questions.

“Do I have permission to examine her things?” He raises a brow.

Joetta nods as he returns the dagger as a sign of good faith.

“Dammit,” Sigvid trips over a smaller trunk, spilling the contents across the dusty floor. He bends down to examine a square crimson box.

No, it cannot be.

Feeling slightly apprehensive, he picks up the box and opens the lid. The contents stir up a crooked smile.

My, my, my little Queen, you did keep this .

This excursion feels worth it all now.

“Your Highness?” Joetta stands over another, considerable chest. A piece of parchment clutched in her hand, her eyes wide as saucers. “Perhaps you should see this.”

“What is it?” He takes the parchment out of her hands and instantly realizes what he is looking at—a Marriage Accord. Judging by the date, it is almost as old as Avina, down to the day.

That is Father’s signature. But who is she to be married to? Which of us is it? Me or Thrain?

My little one, why are you not a Salt Queen?

“Your Majesty,” Joetta pokes her head into the corridor, “we must leave. I will prepare you a pack of Nellie’s food and toys.”

Sigvid pockets the marriage contract and leaves with the box. He pats the curl, smirking to himself.

After he punished her for the escape attempt, Sigvid stared at Avina’s tranquil face, asleep after he beat her ass black and blue. No doubt her sweat from the ordeal affected her curls, tightening them in a way that left him stunned. He sliced off one of those precious locks and pocketed it. He hadn’t realized the gaping hole left by the incineration of the other one.

He is eager to return home.