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

50. Sigvid

50

SIGVID

December 23rd, Year 100, 9th Era

Blackwood Inn, Salt Province

S igvid reclines naked on his bed while he watches Avina dress. His mind still dwells on the Depths and the sacrifice to fuse the Sacred Stones into one.

She often stops her daily actions to clutch the nautilus shell hung on a silver chain. Unlike the previous Salt Stone, the unified stone has streaks of glowing sapphire and redwood.

Surrendering his chance of children is hardly a thought. He spent half his life questioning whether he would survive long enough to produce an heir and the other half despising the idea of children.

Since they left the Depths with the merged Stones, he wonders what the future holds once she becomes Queen of Treland. He is pleased with Thora as an heir.

Will that be enough for Avina?

A pounding at the front door shakes the entire inn. Nellie shoots across the floor in a blur of black. Muffled shouting outside sinks his stomach.

He throws on his tunic and trousers before sauntering to the window. In a fury, he nearly tears the curtain from the hook.

A battalion of soldiers circles the lodge in the moonlight. Half the men wear the nautilus shell of Salt sewn on their cuirasses, while the other half bears the emblem of a gem circling a crown.

The Ridge Province . So King Ceowald is Thrain’s mysterious guest.

He sighs, dragging his hand over his face. “Invisible now.”

It takes him a moment to realize the blur around her form and almost transparent appearance signal her invisibility.

“Go hide.” He urges Avina, who appears fully dressed at his shoulder, “Do not become visible until I say. You are too important to be captured.”

She nods with determination as she scoops Nellie into her arms and disappears down the hall.

Sigvid throws on his pants, tunic, and boots before rushing downstairs to the front door. He halts to compose himself, opening the door only when the flicker of scarlet leaves his vision.

“What can I do for you all?” He smirks out at the crowd.

Thrain, Gunter, King Ceowald, and at least a dozen soldiers of varying heraldry fill his front porch. Based on Ceowald's sudden scowl and Thrain’s unamused lip thinning, they are not expecting to greet Sigvid.

“Good evening, brother,” Thrain squares his shoulders. “I thought you would train with your new Drengr tonight.”

A lie.

One that Sigvid circulated among Thrain’s foot soldiers in an attempt to confirm his ass of a brother had him followed. Judging by his brother’s belief in the misdirection, Thrain’s fucking goons were tracking Sigvid's steps.

“I had a lot of work around the farm.” He surveys the soldiers at their backs.

Fifty men at best, but I think more hide in the woods. They are here for my Avina.

“What can I help you with tonight? It looks like you were expecting to meet a small army here.”

Thrain’s eyeline lifts above Sigvid’s to the central area of Blackwood as if searching for something or someone. “We are looking for Her Majesty. May we speak with her?”

What an asshole with his polite fucking ask. As if he would not dismantle my home if I slam the door and told him to fuck off.

“She is gone, Thrain. We are two days post-Solstice. Per our agreement, she is allowed to leave.”

“Where?” King Ceowald’s nose wrinkles with pure disdain.

“There is our marriage to consider.” Thrain crosses his arms. “She could not have wandered far from Toftlund.”

Wandered? Briny God, why am I not putting him out of his misery?

“ Queen Avina must consider her rule of Timber. Perhaps she wishes to return to her people before another marriage?” Ceowald glances again at Sigvid as if remembering his presence. “Well, boy, what is it? Where is my daughter?”

A thought smacks Sigvid upside the head.

No, it cannot be.

How did I miss it all this time?

And Avina did not even know…

“Do not look at me like that, Leto . How am I to know? Avina was gone before I awoke this morning.” Sigvid keeps his tone even despite the crimson tinting his vision.

A wry smile twists across Ceowald’s lips, picking up on the use of his wager wig. “Well, well, well. You did a clever job connecting the dots. I did not think your dense head had it in you. Although a bit late in the game, are we not?”

“And you are late in the day to catch your daughter. How about you and Thrain hold hands, skip up the road, and look for her? I am sure she is not far, Thrain. I bet if you piggyback Leto, you will find her quickly.”

Thrain’s smile is threatening as he shoves his way inside Blackwood, followed by half the soldiers on the deck. “Here’s the thing, Sigvid, I have two hundred men surrounding your quaint little abode.”

Ceowald and his men also push inside and settle in the seats surrounding his fireplace.

“Come on in. I am sorry, but I did not have time to make muffins for everyone.” Sigvid stands tall with his arms crossed.

Thrain slams Sigvid back against the wall. “And we don’t believe Avina left. No matter. I also bring someone who has spent time in my torture chamber.” Thrain nods, and two soldiers drag a bound and gagged Helga into the room.

“After your return to Salt, I questioned Helga’s loyalty to me, having had such an active hand in releasing you from the Arena. My spies told me an interesting story about my favorite whore. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Thrain clutches her jaw in his hand. “Tie her to one of the chairs by the table.” He commands.

Sigvid watches the Salt soldiers drag Helga across the floor, careful not to shift his expression. “Would you like to explain why you have one of my Drengr tied to a chair in my house?”

“I recently had a riddle solved for me.” Thrain clasps his hands behind his back and paces in the center of the room, blatantly ignoring Sigvid’s questions. “After we disposed of Rendel, I should have waltzed through the front doors of Timber and seized the crown of Treland.”

Leto’s initial agreement with them suddenly made sense. After Rendel's defeat, Thrain would feign a truce with Avina to merge the country. He was just not ready for her to complicate matters and continue the war.

“But someone indulged the fucking Queen for another year!” Thrain slams his fist against the wall. “So I bided my time until you were secure in the Arena and out of my fucking way. But when I sought to court her, something strange occurred every time I arrived at the Scarwood Citadel. Can you guess what that was?”

“Women, children, and goats running from the sight of you?” Sigvid offers, not wanting to play this game.

“Avina was fucking you!” Thrain spits. “At the Arena. Bribing guards like a common whore.”

Ceowald cringes like a prude at the word ‘fucking.’ “Goddess, Thrain. Can you phrase that better? My daughter is not a whore.”

Sigvid smirks. “See, that is where you are wrong, Leto. She is very much my whore.”

Thrain seethes at Sigvid, his nostrils flaring and his lips curling in a sneer. “Yes, Sigvid. I am afraid she is.”

Ceowald gasps from his stance beside the fireplace.

“Even after she forced my hand into our engagement, I still did not realize how difficult you have made this for me, Sigvid.”

He could believe his brother held so little regard for Avina that her feelings did not matter. Thrain is the one who shoved her into Rendel’s arms in the first place.

Oh, gods, shield her from their grasp.

A survey of the first-floor landing does not reveal his little one, which means she is still on the second floor.

“Well, this has been fun, boys, but as you can see, she left me.” Sigvid glances at the staircase to catch her invisible form, crouching on the steps, watching through the rungs.

As long as she remains invisible, she can slip out safely—his heart pounds against his ribcage. So much can still go wrong, and he will not lose her.

Thrain and Ceowald’s cackling raises the tiny hairs along Sigvid’s arms.

“Finding you alone is our contingency prize, brother. You are joining us in the dungeon until she submits herself. Or, you succumb to my plans for you. You see, what I learned from torturing Helga is that she has been your content spy all along.”

Oh, Helga. I am so sorry.

“Your sad obsession with Avina has finally unraveled. Helga may have sworn under my torture that Avina fled for Steinlund, but we know the truth. She has yet to leave Salt.”

Sigvid backs away to the front doors. He spies movement in the trees out of the corner of his eye. Thrain’s fucking two hundred soldiers. Most of whom Sigvid trained as Lord Command of the fucking Salt Province!

Stay calm for Avina. Do not berserk.

“You cannot believe she will walk willingly into your arms, Thrain.” Sigvid growls.

Thrain tilts his head to the side with a shrug. “Maybe not. But,” his voice drops so low even Sigvid, a nose hair away, must lean closer to hear, “holding you will keep those Drengr from rising against me. You are a lot of things, brother, but your damned warriors would be impossible to defeat. All I need is for Treland to watch your little fucking whore voluntarily accept me to avoid an all-out war.”

Coward! Thrain knew he could not defeat me on the battlefield. All of this is to secure the kingship while simultaneously seeming benevolent.

Thrain snaps his fingers, and Helga’s groans fill the central room. Two soldiers drag her bloody and beaten body to the center. He must have put her through the wringer.

The lie about Avina fleeing to Steinlund is considered the final plan. If Helga suspected Thrain was close to capturing Avina and reasonably believed Helga and Sigvid were close to death, she would redirect Thrain to the northern country of Steinlund.

Avina’s life and the Sacred Stones matter more than anything else.

Thrain unsheaths the dagger at his hip. “You think you can send Mother and that urchin away, and I cannot hurt you? You are wrong!”

Thrain knots his hand in Helga’s raven locks, tugging her head backward to expose her neck. “Look at your Commander, Helga. Tell me, is he worth it? You could have been my mistress, bear my bastards. But, no.” He slices her gag, the leather belt clunks on the floor.

“Please, stop the madness!” Her eyes brim with tears.

Sigvid lurches to defend Helga with his axes drawn and his face contorted in a dangerous fury. “Listen to her, Thrain! You leave her alone and deal with me!”

A Salt soldier edges too close, and Sigvid cuts him down without breaking eye contact with his brother. He lunges, yet a set of hands restrain his left arm. Another warrior knocks his axes out of his grip so they clatter across the floor.

Sigvid snarls like a deranged animal as more hands and blades fall over his body. One man is just close enough, and he seizes his neck, squeezing the life out of him.

“Fight me yourself, you fucking coward!” His voice shakes the walls.

He loses count of the sheer number of his fucking warriors, grabbing his arms, neck, and waist. All to subdue their Lord Commander. The unfortunate man who finds his life clutched in Sigvid’s right hand flaps his arms while his face turns blue.

“Keep him under control,” Thrain smirks before returning to Helga. “Your allegiance is misplaced, sweetheart.” Thrain raises the dagger.

“Briny God of Strength, my soul is yours to take to the hall of the Depths and fight at your side for all eternity.” Helga remains firm even as her last words and prayer fill the room.

The blade swipes across her neck, leaving a trench of crimson from ear to ear. The light vanishes from her eyes, and her body collapses to the floor.

“You have fucking everything! You are the King of Salt! Why is this not enough for you?” Sigvid fights against the mini-army, which detains him from ripping his brother limb from limb.

Helga, I am sorry. This is my fault. You did not deserve this! You have fulfilled your oath. May we meet again at The Depths.

All of the remaining soldiers inside point swords at him. A sniffle above their heads reminds Sigvid that he must allow them to apprehend him. Avina can still escape if he can draw Thrain’s forces back to Toftlund.

He throws the dead warrior at his brother's feet, eliciting a gleam of triumph from Ceowald.

“Clap him in irons, boys.” Thrain orders, slipping his hands in his pockets.

Iron cuffs are attached to Sigvid’s wrists and ankles. He feels the ironic familiarity of the situation of Ridge soldiers cuffing him because of Avina.

“Try anything, and you will find that I armed all of my Ridge men with Azure Blooms, boy.” Ceowald taunts him.

“Do you honestly believe I am stupid enough to try that, you pretentious prick?” Sigvid growls back. “Get close to me again, and I will bite off your fucking nose.”

Ceowald’s laugh is full of all the nerves he should have when confronting the fucking beast.

While they lead him toward Toftlund, Sigvid manages one final glance over his shoulder at Blackwood and sees a dark figure slip out into the night of the open front doors unnoticed by Thrain or Ceowald’s troops.