Kill the Dawn by Hayse Emily

Author:Hayse, Emily
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

The first snow came the next week, falling on the hard brown earth from iron skies. The harvests had been put up, the fears of war banked until the scouts returned, and the days turned ever darker and shorter as winter crept in to steal autumn’s breath.

Hakkr sat in the great hall refitting his spear—he had his own stead, but he had rarely kept to it during his father’s life, and it might seem suspicious for him to abandon the hall altogether now. Most of the warriors who followed Fainga closely haunted the great hall.

“Hakkr, can I be with you?” asked Briti, coming up behind his elbow, picking at his sleeve with her little fingers.

“Of course.” Hakkr patted the fur beside him. “Come sit.”

Briti settled herself beside him, tucking her small body against his side. She let out a sigh and for a long moment it was just her quiet breath, warm against his arm.

“Hakkr?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think Father died because our enemies killed him?”

“Why should you ask that?”

“I was just wondering.” She pushed her hair out of her face with her small hands.

“Does somebody talk to you of this?”

“Asvora. And Father’s friends. They talk about you more and more.”

“More, hm? And what do they say?”

“They want to know if you think Father died from his enemies.” She thrust out a fist like a stabbing sword.

“What do they think? What do they tell you?”

“They tell me he died because of a wicked thrall.” Her eyes met his, her eyebrows drawn as if she was talking of something bad that she shouldn’t be.

“Little one, you must think on this no longer. It is not for you to worry about.”

“Why?”

“Because though we loved Father, he is gone now. And I am here. You must trust me.”

“I trust you,” she said quickly. “So much.”

She threw her arms wide to demonstrate.

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. In response, she grabbed his beard in her hands and held him captive to a damp kiss.

He returned to his work, and she began to kick at the bench idly.

“Why does it have to be dark?” she mused. Her musing turned to humming—she loved to hum little songs—and she slid off the bench and ran off on business of her own.

It was late. Hakkr wrapped up his work and set it aside. He would sleep in his own stead tonight—the hall was too close and oppressive.

As he stepped outside into the falling snow and thick darkness, he saw a figure tucked against the shadows of the hall, just outside the light that the windows cast.

“Who goes?” he asked softly, his hand upon his knife.

“Be at peace, my lord. It is I,” said a low, lilting voice.

It was Bruni, wrapped in his cloak, frozen breath trickling from his nose.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was watching for you, my lord. It is not safe in these halls any longer.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The way they look at you, especially after what has happened.”

“I fear they suspect that I know something of their treachery, if treachery it is.

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