Patricia Bates by Patricia Bates

Author:Patricia Bates
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

The snow crunched and crackled in the silence with each step Amoda took along the now familiar path. She heard the sounds of the city coming back to life, and it lifted her heart. The women around her showed great strength. Eager to defend many, they took a watch to aide the wounded men.

She reached up with a covered finger to the wound, still tender, which ran down her hairline, to cut a jagged, ugly line to her chin. The tremble in her fingers seemed to echo through her body. Fear still haunted her as she listened for the sound of hooves on frozen ground.

“You seem pensive, Amoda.”

Amoda twisted around to stare at Cahal, who sat a horse a few feet away. “I needed a bit of air.”

The jingle of metal told her he had dismounted. A moment later, he stood alongside her, staring out over the rolling blue-white hills. “Tell me, why is it that you are so different?”

“My lord?”

“I’ve seen slaves that Rognvaldr has trained before. They are docile, obedient women, fearful of their own shadows, and yet you are different. You’ve never allowed Mykyl to bend your will. You made a bargain for something that would never be an offer. You’ve risked his wrath by lifting a weapon, not to defend yourself, but to defend those within his city. You’ve proven yourself to us, proven how you feel, without saying a word.”

Amoda chuckled softly. “He wants an heir, a son to carry on his line.” “He could get a legal heir off any woman of means. To go against every law of his people, to get one off a slave? Something does not seem right.”

“I know nothing of his motives.”

“Aye, you do.”

“Perhaps it is just another move in the game he plays with his brother. What better way to humiliate and degrade Olaf than to claim a bastard gotten off me?” Amoda whispered. She turned from Cahal’s assessment.

The sound of a muffled shout had her whipping around to see a young lad galloping toward them. As the rider drew near, she heard what words he screamed out, heard the joy in his voice and shivered.

“He is early.”

“Early?” Amoda glared at Cahal.

“I did not believe he would return before the spring thaw. He’s been gone so long. I wonder what his father wanted.”

“King Tyr has never wanted anything good,” Amoda retorted, fury in her voice. “I pray for the day he passes!”

“Careful, my lady, those are words of treason.”

“Then slice my head from my shoulders and be done with it!” Amoda replied stiffly and turned to the road leading from the north. She swallowed; her stomach alight with unease, fear, and longing. She wanted to rush to greet him, and yet, she knew she could not. She would not reveal a weakness to him, to any man who could exploit it.

“My lord, Cahal, the prince has returned. He comes even now!”

Amoda turned to the now familiar standards that fluttered in the wind of the racing horses. Ice and snow flew beneath the horses’ hooves.

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