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

51. Sigvid

51

SIGVID

December 23rd, Year 100, 9th Era

Toftlund City Jail, Salt Province

T he Toftlund City jail has two branches. The first set of ten cells is at the foot of the steps leading to the underground space. Only skeletons and empty shackles fill the cages.

The soldiers drag Sigvid down a dark corridor that reeks of death and decay to find three larger locked cells. Torture implements litter a long table in the center of the room, and two giant cages hang from the ceiling.

One of the three cells contains a skeleton still wearing its tattered clothes. The second is almost entirely straw, with a giant rat scurrying under the lone bench. The third and final enclosure is vacant and relatively mucked out.

“In you go!”

The soldiers dump him inside the third cage, quickly locking the door behind them in case Sigvid suddenly attacks.

“Comfortable, brother?” Thrain emerges behind his men.

Sigvid nods, kicking some hay about. “All I need is a warm bedfellow. Be certain to tell Avina which cell I am in. ”

“Trust me, I am counting on her to find you.” Thrain hisses.

“When does his torture commence?” Ceowald interrupts, clearly oblivious to their sibling feud. “My daughter used a phenomenal torturer in Scarwood if you are in need. Lenzo’s fire extract brought this one to his knees in pain.” He suggests a tool of Sigvid’s impending torture as if they are discussing tea selections.

Thrain chuckles and dismisses the lingering soldiers. “I have an old friend traveling from Timber. She has a unique Sacred Stone ability we will be exploiting. Enjoy your last night of comfort, Sig.” Thrain leers at him as he and Ceowald abandon him to the darkness.

Sigvid does not sleep that night. Instead, he stretches his body to keep his mind focused.

War is on the horizon.

He can taste it.

He needs to wait long enough for Slode or Grim to free him. Grim does owe him a rescue.

Briny God willing, Slode found Avina first and got her safe to Sjoby with Mother and Thora.

That was his arrangement with his Inner Circle should anything happen to him. To hide her away so Thrain and her father can not use her to capture the country.

W ithout a window, it becomes difficult to judge time. Rusted iron bars surround the walls of his cell, allowing ample viewing of the victim. Sigvid reclines against the far wall, counting them.

He suspects it is afternoon the next day when the slamming of doors and thudding of footsteps signal the arrival of his brother’s old friend.

Thrain, Ceowald, and a mysterious petite woman enter the back torture area of the Toftlund dungeon.

Ah, Thrain’s torturer arrived.

Her dusky hair falls at oddly varying lengths around her head. A black, skin-hugging dress shimmers in the firelight. As she nears, her unsettling scarlet eye flashes in contrast to her one green eye.

“Good afternoon, Sigvid. I trust you slept well.” Thrain leans against his cell, arms crossed.

“King Ceowald has questions for you. If you answer promptly, my friend here,” he says, placing a delicate hand on the woman's shoulder, “can take today off.”

Sigvid does not shift other than to glower between his brother and Ceowald. He has nothing else to say.

“Where is my daughter?” Ceowald’s conversational attitude tears through Sigvid’s chest, boiling his rage beneath the surface. “Where is Avina?”

Sigvid sneers. She did escape their clutches.

“Did you harm her?” Ceowald stumbles over the question, and Sigvid laughs.

“Sigvid Thordsson, did you hurt Avina Bloodstone?”

Sigvid doubles over laughing.

His twisted humor incites Ceowald, who pounds against the bars with his fists. “How dare you mock me! Where is my heir? Have you killed her?”

His heir .

The man’s false sentiment is too much. Sigvid throws himself against the same side where Ceowald stands, touting his feigned affection for his only child. Sigvid’s arm shoots through a gap, and his grip encircles the king’s neck. He slams Ceowald’s face against the rusted bars over and over.

Thrain does not even react.

“I know Avina is alive because you are here asking asinine questions,” Sigvid snarls. “If she died, I would not be in jail. No, Ceowald, if your daughter died, I would raze the entirety of the Endless Shores to the ground. Understand, I love Avina more than my ability to draw breath. She is the crown of Treland, and only she will take that power—not Thrain and certainly not you!”

When he releases Ceowald, the Ridge King stumbles back into the dungeon, clutching the side of his bleeding face in horror .

Thrain begins a slow clap. “Bravo, brother. You dance so wonderfully. I couldn’t have staged this better myself.”

“What is this, Thrain?” Ceowald demands.

“Shut it, Bloodstone. Helga mentioned something to me after I witnessed the gross interactions between Sigvid and Avina at my party.” Thrain murmurs thoughtfully. “Your predictable line of questioning is what my friend here needs to know how best to torture my brother.”

Ceowald blusters. “I have more questions about what this beast has done. Where is my heir? She must take control of Treland.”

“Patience, Ceowald. You and I have been too blind to notice the truth between us. Now, we can reap his pain. My dear, sweet Mali, go to work.” Thrain pulls up a chair and sits backward against it, his arms perched along the back. Ceowald steps closer, his eyes burning with suspicion.

Mali bears no expression as she twists her hands in the air. Smoke-like liquid copper swirls between her movements as her black spell builds. Once her hands cease, her mouth breaks into a wicked grin, and she thrusts the cloud at Sigvid.

An unnerving smell, like dried blood, honey, and fresh roses, suffocates his senses. He sneezes violently until the mist dissipates, and he realizes he is on the ground, alone in his jail wing.

When did they leave? Had he passed out when the seidr struck? Wouldn't he remember that happening?

“Sigvid! Thank Goddess, you are okay!” Avina materializes at the cell door dressed in a lovely blue Salt gown he had purchased yet had not gifted to her.

Has she been invisible? Would he not have seen her as Guardian? How did she get here? Why is she alone and unarmed?

He leaps to his feet and presses his hand against the bars. Yet he cannot penetrate the gaps anymore. Somehow, seidr keeps him from reaching her. “I think this is a trap.”

“Sigvid, do not-” She looks over her shoulder and screams. The piercing sound ignites a rare fear in the berserker.

Thrain appears around the corner, bearing a menacing smile. “Ready to give yourself to me, Avina? As your husband and king.”

Thrain throws her front against the cell wall and bunches her skirt to her waist. Sigvid’s body tenses to lurch toward his brother, but nothing happens.

His feet cannot move.

He cannot reach Avina.

He cannot save her.

Sigvid stands horrified and frozen.

Thrain meets his brother’s eyes as he forces himself into Avina from behind. She screams and claws at his exposed skin in her vain attempts to escape.

Every bit of his heart that can crumble shatters when her deep blues lift to him.

“Please!” She wails. “Sigvid, save me!”

She sobs a gut-wrenching cry at each of Thrain’s thrusts. Continually, she begs Sigvid to stop Thrain from killing her. But he can only silently observe while his body shudders with a fury he has never known. Her big blue eyes water in pain and betrayal as the dawning realization settles over her brilliant mind.

He will not come to her aid.

Suddenly, the cold, unwavering sensation of iron cuffs encircling his wrists jogs him to his own helplessness. When did he become chained within the cell? No matter how hard he lunges and strains, he cannot reach his little Queen.

After Thrain finishes inside her, he drops her body to the ground. “What did I say about carrying Sigvid’s child?”

Pregnant? No, this is a fantasy fooling me.

Remember, this is false! It is all an illusion!

“No, please, Thrain!” Her arms cover her stomach protectively.

His brother collects a mace from the ground and swings it in the air a few times before he raises it above her body.

Sigvid roars, yet no sound emanates from his mouth. No matter what he says or does, his wrath does not leave his lungs.

Thrain beats her abdomen, spewing blood, bone, and gore into the cell and onto Sigvid’s legs.

All his previous self-reassurances that this is a nightmare fly out the door as he watches the love of his life battered to death by his brother. Thrain wrecks her body until nothing but crimson mush remains of her midsection.

Her once gorgeous body lies unmoving and silent. Those bright blue eyes stare wide at the ceiling, and Sigvid convulses at the sight.

No, no, this is not happening. That could not have been Avina. She is alive and safe in Sjoby .

“...I do not understand.” Ceowald’s voice slices through the scene. “What is happening?”

Sigvid suddenly feels as if his head is forced through a tight, cold space, only to stumble back into his cell.

His legs and arms can move!

But his head throbs. And there is no Avina. Only Ceowald, Thrain, and Mali observe him as if he is a fascinating experiment.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Sigvid throws himself at the door, shaking the cage.

“Did you not enjoy the illusion, Sig?” Thrain mocks him. “I should have prefaced that Mali has a Sacred Stone power to conjure illusions in people’s minds once she learns a tiny bit about them.”

“What did he see?” Ceowald glances between Sigvid and Mali.

Sigvid bites his tongue, refusing to indulge them in his mental misery. He will take physical torment over this mindfuckery.

“He watched the love of his life raped by his brother while he stood helpless. Her death is his worst fear.” Mali’s lazy voice drifts through his bars.

“Surely you are not using visions of my daughter being raped and murdered as torture? What is the perception you wish to achieve?” Ceowald’s stuttering through his first question is a delight Sigvid wishes he could genuinely savor.

“Are you losing your nerve now, Ceowald? I suggest you leave if you cannot handle my methods.” Thrain’s voice is low and threatening.

Ceowald shakes his head. “This is too much. What will people say if this is how we torture him? You said my daughter was falling in love with you . That he is interfering.” He jabs an accusatory finger at Sigvid.

Thrain snorts back a laugh. “Your daughter whored herself out to the Arena’s Beast. Sigvid can call it love all he wants, but one way or the other, I will use her against him until he fucking breaks! ”

Ceowald stomps out of the dungeon with a furl of his cape.

“Mali, give him three scenes a day, as you please. Mix them up. Sometimes, she dies. Maybe he sees his little Queen experiencing pleasure at my hands,” a wicked smirk toys at his lips, “maybe she likes it.”

Thrain presses his face against the cage bars. “Ceowald may want answers from you, brother. But I want to watch you fall to pieces, knowing I will win this war. I will become King of Treland, not you. And when I do, I will fuck the memory of you out of Avina.”