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

54. Avina

54

AVINA

January 28th, Year 1, 10th Era

The Holy Triangle, Treland

T he Salt drums pound mercilessly, thumping in time with her heart's rhythm. Courage streaks in her blood, and she knows that if she stops to consider what she is about to do, her confidence will waver to ash. She steals a hesitant glance at Sigvid, who perches on the edge of his seat, his elbows balancing on his knees and his chin buried in his hand.

She swallows hard as a gust of the winter wind whips across the fjord, shuddering the flames of the torches lining the path to where she sits. Numbness clings to her bones because there is no longer room for compassion.

Not anymore.

Over the last two weeks, the battle for Treland raged across the fjords of Salt and into the rolling hills of the southern Ridge Province. The Drengr and Timber Armies now hold an upper-ground strategic position in ‘The Holy Triangle’—the only location in Treland where all three provinces merge.

“Shadow,” Bertie approaches her side, leaning down to whisper, “ they require your judgment on the prisoner.” He squeezes her wrist while offering a light kiss on the top of her head.

Bile rises in her throat as she forces her gaze to remain at the end of the row of fire. Her heartbeat thuds in her chest as General Tyo strides forward, stopping halfway through the line of flame to bow. “Your Majesty, as Avina Bloodstone, you are the heir to the Ridge Province. Therefore, you must charge the following prisoner of war for his crimes.”

She bites her tongue as three Drengr drag her father through the line of torches. No longer is the Ridge King dressed in his usual finery. A ragged tunic shredded along the sleeves, and a faded pair of trousers adorns the regal Ceowald Bloodstone.

Her warriors force him to his knees at her feet, and she finds herself unable to look at him in this weakened form. But this moment has long been on Avina's horizon. When Tyo pulled her aside three days ago to explain the identity of their newest captive, she knew the only way forward is public sentencing.

Ceowald lifts his head with his usual haughty air of indifference. He looks the part of a fallen king with his gray hair in disarray and a beard growing upon his face since their last interaction outside the Salt dungeon.

“Well, well, well. Hello, daughter.” His lips curl into a snide smirk.

“King Ceowald Bloodstone of the Ridge, you will hereby receive your ruling by Queen Avina-” Tyo looks to her, and she nods, “Redwood of Treland.”

Her father throws his head back and laughs. “Sentencing? What am I to have done to warrant this blatant maltreatment?”

Sigvid rises from his seat like a vengeful god. One of his blackwood axes is ready as he stalks around Ceowald as if sizing up his prey.

“Ah, I see you brought your pet barbarian, Avina.”

Ceowald’s head falls back in a yowl when Sigvid slices his forearm and then lays his ebony blade along his neck. With a savage glee in her warrior’s eyes, he growls into his ear, “Continue to speak to her as if you have any power here, and I will demonstrate how barbaric I can be.” He removes the axe, leaving a small cut.

Sigvid twirls the blackwood shaft, “I suggest you keep your wagging tongue still as the Queen delivers your punishment. Or I will hang you by your balls from the rafters in my home.” He grabs a fistful of Ceowald’s silver hair. “Do I make myself clear, Leto?”

Ceowald smirks. “Does the violence you exert ease the grim reality of your existence? Knowing you live to assume the throne of Treland only because your dear father felt Salt would not bow to a Redwood? That’s right, you simple-minded beast. Avina doesn’t need you to wear the crown. You are nothing.”

Sigvid places his boot in Ceowald’s chest and lays him flat on the ground.

Avina leaps to her feet, teetering in the snow, unable to decide whether to join Sigvid or stop him. Even with the Lord Commander's gory recommendations, he is adamant that Ceowald’s fate be her decision.

Ceowald’s gaze never leaves her. “Are you pleased, daughter? You have sought out this beast for years. Is it everything you ever wanted?”

“Stop!” She raises a hand into the frigid air, halting whatever devastation Sigvid intends to wreck. He instantly retreats as she closes the distance to her father with quivering fists.

“You abandoned me to raise myself in the Sapphire Palace.”

He chuckles and looks away with a shake of his head.

“You threatened everyone I knew, everyone who was dear to me-” Does he not realize the cruelty of his actions on a young girl?

“Servants,” he cackles even in his predicament, “who had no business mingling with the heir apparent to the throne. I strove to harden you, girl, and yet you still churned out softer than silk.”

“Harden me?” She gapes as if he is a creature from the Abyss. “I was just a little girl you kept so much knowledge from.”

“Your mother's blood was a necessary means to unite the kingdom. Why do you delude yourself into this farce that you’re extraordinary? That the world owes you happiness?”

“Never!” She feels the seams of her spirit tear as her fists tremble. “Never have I felt anything more than a tool. Do you know who treated me like a princess, a future Queen? King Thord Hilmirsson of Salt.”

Her words fall silently across the field as the crowd of onlookers thickens. Ceowald merely stares unblinking up at his daughter.

“You were a tool for Thord just as you were for me-”

“No!” She jabs a finger in his face. “You do not get to speak ill of that man. He was more of a father to me than you ever were!” The words spit like fire from her lips.

Ceowald scoffs.

“Did you kill King Thord?” She jumps straight to the point, careful to watch his blank expression.

Does he have it in him to kill a man?

Her chest seems unwilling to exhale while she waits for his response.

At last, the King of the Ridge narrows his eyes. “I protected my people.”

She feels as if a chunk of ice settles deep in her core.

But she knows.

Deep down, she knows that her father orchestrated much of the heartbreak in her life. She squeezes her eyes shut and struggles to contain her shaky breaths.

“How was that benevolent man such a risk to the Ridge?” Avina’s nails dig into her palm to help maintain her composure.

“He wished for Treland to fall to Sigvid, who will destroy you, Avina. You mean nothing to him.” He sighs as if this conversation is beneath him. “Thord was guided by nonsense about a blessing from the gods related to your births..”

Avina feels her jaw drop.

The gods foretold their significance to Thord.

Sigvid cracks his neck as he grips Ceowald’s neck with one hand, lifting him off the snowy ground. “Let me get this straight,” he growls, “you killed my father because you disliked me?”

Ceowald snorts in his bone-grating, condescending manner. “I dislike you because you are a monster of the Abyss with an anger issue. I killed your father so I could ensure my bloodline fell to the likes of King Thrain and not Prince Sigvid.”

Sigvid’s hand clutching Ceowald’s column tightens until her father begins sputtering. She lurches forward as she watches Sigvid slam him into the snow. He swiftly removes one of his blackwood axes and tosses it, sticking the edge into the frozen ground only a hair's width from Ceowald’s nose.

“Thank the gods that I am not the one to decide your fate, you weak fucking asshole. I would ensure you suffer until summer before I hack off your limbs and feed you to a pack of wolves.” Sigvid jerks his blackwood handle from the ground.

“My Queen, I apologize for the interruption.” Sigvid places a hand on her shoulder before kissing her lips. “You are worth it. You mean everything to me.” He kisses her again. “Please continue.” He whispers.

“I see you taught your hound to heel.” Ceowald smirks.

Her warrior lifts his chin to her father. “Avina is my equal, and I will rip the throat out of anyone who fucking hurts her, Leto.”

She nods to Sigvid, who steps away. She rolls her shoulders back to ease the tension in her back.

“You do not deny you murdered King Thord?” She projects her voice.

“I would do it again. But next time, I would have Sigvid assassinated as well.”

“You reneged on the marriage accord. Because you hated Sigvid?”

Ceowald sighs. “He was known throughout the land for the same level of barbarism he has always shown. I was intrigued when King Thrain came to me with a proposition.”

“To wed me to Timber first, assuage the people holding mixed opinions of the Redwood line, and then knock off Rendel in a war with the brutal prince. One where his brother, the King, would swoop in and unite the country.” All the pieces, from Samson’s confession to her suspicions, swirl together in her mind.

“Yes, child. I found myself quite taken with Thrain.”

“That is why you sought to overrule me on Sigvid. You wanted him to die in the Arena and for his brother to step in. You sent the letter to Thrain asking how to handle Sigvid. That’s why you commanded the Council send him there!”

Ceowald mutters, “Had you left well enough alone, Thrain would have courted you while he was out of the way. I have no doubt that had you not followed your obsession, we would not be in this unfortunate mess.”

She finds the thought of Thrain successfully courting her laughable. Glancing at Sigvid, a darkness crosses his features .

“Perhaps,” she focuses back on her father, “if you had shared your intentions from the beginning, we would not have ended in bloodshed. Why is it that you loathe me? Am I such a disappointing daughter? Why!” She shouts.

“Because they robbed me!” He matches her tone. “I loved Emblyn, my fiancé. Urien stole her from me.” He huffs, bearing his gaze on the ground. “When I learned Viktoria Redwood, the true heir of Treland, was kept as his mistress, I couldn’t resist. He couldn’t have my Emblyn and another bitch, let alone the one destined to unite the damn country. But Viktoria would never be my Emblyn, who died giving birth to Rendel. The son who should have been mine !” His scream echoes across the fjord. “I turned away when Viktoria showed signs of complications with your birth. I turned away so Urien would know he lost her just as I lost Emblyn.”

“You killed my Mother because Emblyn stopped loving you?” She is sickened by his actions.

“No, no, you must know,” his tone shifts, and suddenly he is a pitiful creature begging her understanding of a crime she would never forgive him, “Emblyn loved me, but Urien manipulated her-”

“Just as you did my mother? Did she deserve to be caught between such vile creatures?” Avina spits on him. “What of me? What of my life? Did I deserve to be treated like rubbish?”

“Avina, I don’t know what to say. I sought vengeance for-”

“No!” Avina slaps him. His mouth gapes, and his eyes widen in shock. “You used my Mother in your petty dispute with Urien. It is with this final confession I make my judgment.” She stomps away from him.

“King Ceowald Bloodstone of the Ridge Province,” she shouts, “you are hereby charged with the murder of Queen Viktoria Redwood of the Ridge and rightful heir to the Timber Province and the country of Treland. I charge you with the death of King Thord Hilmirsson of the Salt Province and Guardian of the Sacred Stones.”

“Please, daughter-” he blubbers.

“As retribution for your crimes, I strip you of your titles. You will reside in the derelict Queen’s Chambers in the Sapphire Palace, where you will be left in solitude to rot with your ghosts. When you finally succumb to malnourishment, I command your body to be burned and your ashes scattered to the sea.”

The ultimate debasement, denying him access to the Golden Citadel.

Avina does not relish the look of revulsion on her father’s features. Or the way he retches into the snow as his chest heaves with sobs.

She leans down so only he can hear, “ I am the heir of Redwood, Father. The Bloodstone line shall die with you .”