The Grief of Godless Games by Joe T. Audsley

Author:Joe T. Audsley [Audsley, Joe T]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-10T00:00:00+00:00

[CHAPTER 34] — AN OVERDUE REUNION

Astrid couldn’t sleep, which had become routine for her. She spent most of her nights lying down for hours, staring open-eyed into the dark. But this time, she was restless, switching positions regularly as she became too conscious of her breathing. After hours, she got up, hoping a walk would clear her head.

She paced along the bay; sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks mingled with the whispered conversations of those still awake in the thirteen-thousand-strong camp. The smoke of fire swirled with the scent of sea salt and the taste of frigid air. The ships knocked against each other as they bobbed to the tides. It always reassured Astrid that the sea looked the same whether you were in the tundra of Solstr, the deserts of Urkanza, or the volcanic landscape of Edokand.

After a few laps of the beach, Astrid made her way through the camp. The Solstic tents were closer to the ocean. She walked past furs hanging from clotheslines and axes strewn across the ground. She played with the pommel of her Urkanzan dagger as she walked.

Most of the people in the camp had no idea Akkael was alive. Skane was the last who needed to know. Trygve was told at the same time that Magar found out but had refused to go near him. Instead, he spent the whole journey to Sui Bay complaining that he wasn’t the one to kill Ichika while Magar and Astrid dawdled in silence.

The tents began to turn blue as Astrid walked into the Sekandan sections of the camp. The round pavilions huddled under tarps and were much bigger than the Solstic ones. It was much cleaner than the Solstic part, too, with no weapons or mead horns littering the path.

After everything that had happened since the mountains rose, Astrid still couldn’t believe Akkael was alive. He had let her mourn over his body, weeping as she tugged at the cloth under him, and, all the while, he was alive. Their daughter had died, and he wasn’t there. Astrid clenched her fist around the dagger.

Before she realised, Astrid found herself outside Queen Kya’s marquee, only a short walk from Akkael’s cage. Two guardswomen stood outside the tent, fists around spears. As Astrid approached, she noticed one of them huffing irately.

“All I can hear is you breathing,” said the first guard. She had a large scar across her face.

“I’m not even breathing that hard,” said the second woman, with a massive dent in the centre of her breastplate.

“Yes, you are,” replied the first speaker. “It’s like you’re sighing.”

“Well, I’m sorry.” The Sekandan emphasised each syllable in her sarcastic apology. “My nose is blocked because of allergies, not that you care.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“I had a sneezing fit this morning,” continued the woman with the busted breastplate. “Fifty-three.”

The sentry with the scar shook her head. “That’s not true.”

“It is, I counted,” said the guard with allergies. “Seonhwa was there too, she saw.”

“Wouldn’t your eyes fall out if you sneezed that much?”

“What are you talking about?” she squinted.

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