He’d been in love with Gistrid.Even though she had been with his father, Tolvir still cared about her.
Had Gistrid’s child been Tolvir’s?
Somehow, Brynn didn’t think so.Nothing was ever private, not really.Brynn had learned that the hard way when tales had started flying that she was still untouched four years into her first marriage.Rumors that he was impotent had been what finally pushed Paega into bedding Brynn, but as soon as she was pregnant and his virility was proven, he never touched her again.
If Tolvir had been bedding his father’s concubine, all of Gistrid’s servants would have needed to keep the secret.Not only that, but Brynn could not see Tolvir outright defying his father like that.If he had all the thrall girls as Tullia had implied, why risk death?
Back in Hylden, if a king was cuckholded, he could be declared unfit to rule.After all, if he could not defend his own women, what kind of king could he be?
Raping the wives and concubines of defeated foes was still practiced in parts of Hylden.Brynn assumed the Valdari had something similar.The tradition went back to the days of the wild chieftains when androcide against enemy tribes had been the norm.
But what if someonethoughtTolvir’s affection for his father’s concubine had gone beyond unrequited love?It didn’t necessarily have to be true, but what if someone assumed?
Someone close enough to Tolvir and Gistrid to want to protect them and prevent Ovrek from finding out.
Sifma seemed the most likely person if Tullia told the truth, but if Brynn was right and pennyroyal had been used, the poisoner had likely intended to induce a miscarriage, not Gistrid’s death.That Gistrid had been overdosed and nearly killed the first time implied some inexperienced with use of herbs and their remedies.
My mother could have used the help, I think.
Brynn’s stomach clenched to recall Tullia’s words about buying a thrall with better skills in herbalism.She must have known from the start.Sifma must confide in her daughter or Tullia had excellent spies.Both were equally possible.
Guin snuffled in her arms, but it was a long time before Brynn fell asleep.
12
Cenric
EverytimeCenrictriedto leave the great hall, either Ovrek or one of Ovrek’s men found a reason to go with him.They wouldn’t even let him piss alone.They were treating him like an enemy hostage—an uncooperative one.
Ovrek suggested Cenric spend the night in the hall instead of going back to the tent he had shared with Brynn.Cenric knew that was only so that they could guard him without it being obvious.He hated it.Hated everything about this.
It was an insult.
But he spent the night on the floor, sleeping in the safe warmth of the hall.He imagined Brynn freezing in the forest, falling into a river, or tumbling off a cliff.It was dark and the land was treacherous even in the daylight.
Snapper curled up beside him, quieter than usual.The dyrehund whimpered, whining for Brynn, asking where she and Guin were.
Cenric did his best to reassure the dog as the two of them settled in for a night in Ovrek’s hall.
Flames roared against the night sky, consuming storehouses, ships, and anything else in sight.Istra was in ruin.
Bodies lay scattered on the sand, missing legs, arms, heads, and pieces of torsos, as if a great maw had taken bites out of them and then grown bored.
Panting, Cenric was armed with nothing but a shield and a spear he’d taken from one of the dead men.He was soaked in seawater and his boots squished, wet and chafing.
A hiss over Cenric’s shoulder made him jump.He turned.
A scaly head rose over him, at least ten times the height of a man.Teeth flashed.He’d never known serpents had teeth.
Red, glowing eyes with black slits focused on him.Claws flashed as the creature lumbered toward him.
Brynn’s scream came from his left.“Cenric!”
Cenric jolted awake on the hard floor, aching and confused.Had that been a foretelling?It seemed more like one of his nightmares, but as he lay awake with eyes wide open, it did not fade.The memory of it stayed.The feel of the spear in his hand and the sand shifting beneath his feet had been so real.He’d felt his wet clothes sticking to him and his soggy boots squishing underfoot.Why had he been soaked in seawater?
As he thought back, it felt almost like a memory.The fear he’d felt for Brynn the moment she screamed for him still sent icy chills along his back.
But that creature?How could that not be a product of his nightmares?
