Eversong by A.C. Salter

Author:A.C. Salter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A.C. Salter
Published: 2018-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Daughter of Chaos

The afternoon passed quickly, Elora occupied herself by helping Ejan and Norgie prepare the evening’s meal but her mind was elsewhere - her thoughts belonging to Bray and that kiss. By the evening everyone was sat at the table and helping themselves to roasted venison, seasoned with sage, onion and apple. Elora’s mouth was watering as the aroma hit her nostrils, her stomach grumbled yet she forced herself to wait until Bray arrived, unlike the rest who had already filled plates with the rare meat along with vegetables and were busy eating.

She had planned for the Shaigun to sit next to her but Gurple had managed to squeeze up to her right whilst Jaygen had quietly sat on her left. The Shadojak sat at the head of the table, talking with her uncle; Norgie contributing to the conversation beside him. Ragna was on Diagus’s other side, draining a large tankard of mead and unceremoniously wiping his mouth with the back of his arm and gaining a mean look from Ejan. Otholo was sipping red wine from a glass, whilst picking at his food, his eyes drifting every so often over Ejan who seemed oblivious to the attention.

Elora finally gave up waiting and began to cut into her meat when Bray entered the room, washed, cleanly shaven and wearing black jeans and t-shirt, along with a deep frown.

The smile on her lips faded as he sat beside Norgie, not even sparing her a glance, not sparing anyone a glance. Had she done something wrong? She put a mouthful of venison in her mouth and chewed mechanically, her hunger vanishing as she realised something had changed. Did he regret what had happened earlier or was he now acting the un-feeling Shaigun, a front for the benefit of the Shadojak? She hoped for the latter but knew that a secret relationship would be all but impossible with the Pearly White’s gaze on her at all times.

She set her fork down and picked up a glass of wine. It was dry and bitter, much like the direction in which her mood was sinking to.

Jaygen reached for his tankard, which was half the size of his father’s and refilled it from a large jug, sloshing beery foam on the table.

“No more, Jaygen. I said just the one,” enforced Ejan, her voice cutting across the table.

Jaygen placed the jug down heavier than he needed to. “But I’m a man grown now Ma, just one more fill?”

Ejan glanced at her husband who had quieted his own discussion. “What do you think, Ragna? Has our boy become a man?”

Ragna laughed. “Let us see now. My own Da told me that I’d be a man after I can raise the Fist of the North to salute Odin. You do that Jaygen and I’ll fill your tankard myself.”

Elora watched Jaygen’s hope-filled gaze shifting between his mother and father.

“Fine,” he said, slamming a fist down on the table and rising with grim determination.

“Fist of the North?” Otholo put

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