The Two Kings

by Marian Gray

  I turned and lifted my foot. A small shiver ran through my legs as we headed toward the exit. I couldn’t believe that we were still alive, but we couldn’t waste time ruminating over the fact. We now had to figure out a way to send an army to Rekkesov.

  XL

  Ark Oskar

  My meeting with Greva Dearsu was anything but the formality I had been expecting. He had known Oskar was luring his people away and heard rumor that a lot of Sama children had gone missing in Torvik, but he didn’t know the cause. When I explained how the whole plot revolved around the troll we had just killed and that I planned on marching to Torvik and dethroning Oskar… well, the occasion turned into more of a jovial celebration, with Dearsu offering me men and horses to ensure Oskar’s demise. Having but three warriors to my name, I welcomed his proposal. In closing, he promised to allow Cirithe and Ansel to remain on his lands and would send them down by boat once they were capable of surviving the journey.

  With a small foreign cavalry at my back, the four of us rode down to Torvik. We arrived in a day’s time with sunlight to spare. The people scattered when they saw the row of fifty horses marching toward the settlement. Dust kicked up from the road billowed around us, glittering in the final rays of the sun. It shrouded the last section of horses, making it seem as though the procession was far longer than it was.

  As we approached the hall, anxiety speared through me. At least twenty guards stood upon the stone steps, weapons drawn and shields stationed before their bodies. We had the numbers to defeat them, but this wasn’t the way to victory. Torvik needed to be reined in without armies and bloodshed. She was supposed to be under my influence and care. I feared how distraught relations would be should this end in a massacre.

  An older man with short gray hair stood at the center of the guard. The ties of his leathers were stretched to capacity, struggling to hold his weight. Judging by the armor’s outdated style, it was an artifact from his youth that was now rather ill-fitting. He took a step forward, breaking rank. “Who are you and why have you brought Sama horsemen into our town?”

  I sat up straight, sitting with pride in my saddle. “Tell Oskar his ark has arrived and wishes to speak with him.”

  “Torvik is subject to no one, and as such, Oskar has been named Ark of Torvik and the surrounding region is under our dominion,” the man shouted it loud enough for all to hear.

  “And who are you?”

  “An elder, named by Ark Oskar.”

  The lanky bastard had outdone himself with this transgression. “Fantastic. Where is Oskar?”

  There was a sizable crowd growing around us, watching with wide eyes and listening with open ears. Faces lingered in all the windows, and silhouettes stood in doorways to watch from their homes.

  “He is indisposed,” the man hissed. “Now that I have answered all of your questions, I must ask that you either disarm yourself and send your men away or take your mongrels and leave. Their mere presence here is an act of aggression.”

  Brungen wheezed as a hand cupped his mouth. He fought to keep his laughter hidden. Brungen found threats to be the height of comedy.

  “I’m not going to send them away. I brought them for a reason.” I cleared my throat and raised my voice to make sure all those around us listening in could hear. “Send Oskar out or I will trample through your lines and rip him out of the hall with my bare hands. Anyone who is too afraid to face another is not fit to be a ruler. Do you all want someone as weak as Oskar leading you? You stand out here with your swords withdrawn while he hides under his bed, shaking.”

  The elder’s face reddened. “Ark Oskar is a great and powerful spade! He will strike you down where you sit for what you have said.”

  “Oskar is a fraud. No man is a spade. If you weren’t so ignorant of the gods you would know this. He derived his magic from a troll—” An audible gasp breathed from the crowd. “I have sought this troll out and defeated him. Your ark is powerless.” I held my tongue, allowing for a dramatic pause. “Dethrone him yourselves, and I will spare the town and her people from any harm.”

  “Lies!” the elder screamed. “You speak nothing but lies! Hold your tongue or I will slice it out of your mouth myself.”

  The air went rigid. I felt all the warriors on either end tense, awaiting the first blow before the charge. But I didn’t want it to come to that.

  “Send for Oskar,” I told him.

  A single drop of sweat slid down the man’s forehead. He wiped it away with haste while his eyes hopped between the crowd, me, the horses, and his own men. Somewhere in the middle of it all, he had lost his confidence. He turned to one of the men at his side. “Go tell Ark Oskar his presence is needed.”

  The man did a double take, unsure of the command this self-proclaimed elder had given.

  “Go,” the elder snapped, baring his teeth.

  The warrior lifted his sword to sheath it as he spun on his heel, but missed the scabbard’s throat not once, but twice. Both sword and shield were still out by the time he clopped into the hall.

  I had hoped this would defuse some tension, but it only pressurized the air even more. The crowd watched us with uneasy eyes, waiting for Oskar’s big appearance. The elder’s face had contorted into a permanent scowl. He stared at me like a hunter stalking its prey.

  “I don’t get it,” I said, shattering the silence. “If Oskar is so powerful and can kill with his magic, why does he send the twenty of you out here to defend him? If he is a spade, as he claims, shouldn’t he be able to the scatter this measly lot of horses?”

  “He is a powerful magic-wielder. He has already proved this, and for that reason, we follow him to our deaths,” the elder answered.

  “Which shall be soon.” I raised my voice. “For the majority of you. You have crossed the gods by abandoning their laws. It is made very clear in the Norrender Codex that no spade shall hold title or land, but give her powers freely to the people. Disobeying the gods comes with consequences. Punishment. Are you willing to risk them removing you from the cycle? Are you certain you want to make this life your last on this land?”

  Whispers rushed through the crowd. It was like a stampede of breathy voices, filling the void with white noise.

  “And who are you to make such claims?” the elder asked. “I thought you were an ark, not a priest.”

  “I am Iver the Eighth of Varund, Son of Othun, Ark of Arus, and Slayer of Trolls. I am the servant of the gods and reaper of victory and glory.”

  “If all that’s true, then how come I’ve never heard of you?”

  Several laughs bleated around me.

  “Well, when you don’t wander more than a mile from where you were born, it’s a bit difficult to learn about the world.” I leaned forward in my saddle, and my eyes narrowed on his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at the Festival of Nine, and judging by your armor, I doubt you’ve been on a raid. Have you even left Torvik?” My eyebrow cocked in forced arch.

  “Yeah, where have you gone, Gunnleif?” someone from the crowd shouted.

  “I’ve been to Lungdal,” the elder called out to him, “and whoever asked that will be punished once these horses are scattered and this pompous ark’s face is smashed.”

  “Elder Gunnleif.” The soldier returned from his search for Oskar. “He is not here.”

  The elder’s weight shifted from one foot to another. “What do you mean ‘he’s not here’?”

  He cleared his throat. “I mean, he’s not here.” He stressed the three last words.

  Gunnleif glanced at me from over his shoulder before returning to face his warrior. “And where is he exactly?”

  The soldier shrugged. “The servants say he ran out the back as soon as the horses arrived.”

  “On foot?” Gunnleif whispered.

  He nodded.

  I reached to my hip and unsheathed my sword. “It’s time to go hunting, men.”

  The captain of the cavalry passed the command down the line in Sama, and our horses kic
ked into a canter, flying past the twenty armed guards.

  With the way the hall was situated, it was nigh impossible to tell which way the little coward ran. Oskar had at least a ten-minute head start on us, and he had to have escaped in a direction that was blocked from my field of vision. The best course of action was to split my horses and search.

  “Comb the forest. Search for his trail. I want him tracked and captured within the hour,” I told the captain. Any longer and the rat may get away.

  With Brungen at my side, we rode into the forest. This wouldn’t be an easy hunt. The days had been rather chilly lately, hardening the ground. Finding footprints would be an unlikely situation. Instead, we would have to rely on the trees and brush. They were brittle from the recent dry spell and snapped with little force. I doubted Oskar would have been careful about his escape. A wild, messy, panicked run was what we were looking for here.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t send any men around back,” Brungen scoffed once we were out of earshot of the other horsemen.

  I shrugged. He was right, but what could I say? No words would correct the mistake.

  “That’s siege basics.”

  “Stop talking and just find the bastard,” I said as I scoured the forest for any signs of recent breakage.

  Brungen stuck out his tongue at me but did as I requested. In a slow walk, we pushed through the woods. The farther we drove from Torvik the more feral the area grew. Large thickets cropped up, forcing us off course.

  “Do you see something?” I asked, noticing Brungen was staring in a particular direction. Off in the distance two figures rode—Lars and Dagur.

  He jumped a bit in his seat. “No.” Brungen shook his head. “Just gazing off.”

  I sighed. “Could you please pay attention? Destroying this man is what…” My breath stifled in my chest. “Is the reason people have died.”

  He shot me a sympathetic glance. “I understand.” His voice was sober. “I’m sorry.”

  “Iver!” Lars’s voice shouted to me. His arm was outstretched, pointing to an area of brush and tree. “Someone’s here.”

  As soon as his words finished, a rustle of leaves echoed ahead of us and a flock of birds took to the sky. Brungen nodded at me and the two of us took off in a gallop. Our horses charged forward. They danced around bush and trunk with ease, having been trained to navigate the mountainous western wood around Varund. I barely had to guide my mare; she adjusted her direction with the slightest iteration of my legs at her side. We were one entity, pounding through the forest.

  It wasn’t long before a slender figure came into view. Curly, strawberry blonde hair flapped in the air as his legs pumped into a sprint.

  “That’s him,” I called out to Brungen.

  “Halt!” Brungen shouted.

  Oskar glanced over his shoulder at us before he dodged around a tree, zigzagging to make himself a more difficult target to catch. But I had no intention of slipping cuffs around him and throwing him into a cell. This was personal.

  I gained on him quickly, darting through the woods at a furious speed. Brungen slipped to my flank as I charged ahead.

  After a few seconds, Oskar turned and faced us. “I surrender.” He raised his hands in the air, showing he was unarmed.

  I didn’t stop.

  “I surrender,” Oskar shrieked, seconds before he tried to dodge to the side, but he was too slow.

  My horse collided with him at full speed, ramming him off his feet before trampling over him. I felt his bones snap and flesh buckle under the mare’s weight.

  I wheeled her around, barreling back toward where his body lay, and dismounted once I was near. Brungen, Dagur, and Lars drew upon the scene as I unsheathed my dagger.

  “Mercy, please,” Oskar wheezed. “From one ark to another, mercy.”

  “You are no ark!” I roared. I was sick of hearing it. “You are a traitor who has turned his back on the gods, feeding the children of those he has sworn to protect to a troll. You are a fraud, wielding troll magic as though you were a sacred spade. And you are a murderer, who has killed my family.”

  Whimpering around the forest floor, Oskar turned his pleas to my three men. “Save me, please. Mercy.”

  “You shall receive the same kind death Sigmun and Irska experienced,” I told him as I knelt at his side with dagger raised.

  His eyes widened seconds before the blade hammered into his chest. I drove into him not once, but twenty times. The flesh split with ease as he jerked around, fidgeting beneath the pain. Red covered my hands and splattered my leathers. Warm droplets peppered my face, but I didn’t stop until he lay still. Then, in one swift motion, I thrust my dagger into the side of his neck and ripped upward. His body jerked before collapsing into a lifeless heap.

  I fell back, lying on the ground. My heart raced in my chest and blood surged through me. I could barely hear anything aside from the great breaths that ran in and out of me.

  “Take his body and hang it in front of the hall. Kill the elders, especially Gunnleif, and find the rightful heir to the seat in this godforsaken village.”

  XLI

  Linseed Oil

  My boots sank into the soggy earth as I tiptoed near the river’s edge. Crickets rattled out to each other, and the large white moon glowed along my skin. Behind me, music and ruckus percolated from the great brick palace, but it was too far away to drown out the sounds of nature.

  This small slice of solitude was a breath of fresh air. The palace suffocated me. I was thwarted with unwanted attention and questioning eyes. Astra never left my side out of fear, and Svotheim refused to let me wander far from his gaze.

  My eyes closed for a brief moment, soaking in the peace. I felt weird standing in this foreign land, staring at a stream that I would never look upon again. It was as though I were walking in another world, watching nature that was never meant for my eyes. The plants were still green and the waters still blue, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was a stranger in someone’s home.

  “What are you doing all the way out here?”

  I jumped, wheeling around with my fists up.

  Torram lifted his hands in surrender. “Whoa. Calm down.”

  “You scared me.” I released a tense breath, dropping my arms to my sides.

  “Sorry, I saw you slip out and was curious as to what you were up to.” He took a step toward me, his head turning this way and that, observing our surroundings. “Why did you leave the palace? Not interested in drinking? I would think you of all people would have a reason to eat and drink until you dropped.”

  “I don’t know. Your brother did say he didn’t want to see my face for the rest of our stay. I felt unwelcome and unwanted.” I shrugged. “You should probably go back though. You are the host after all.”

  “My brother often says things he doesn’t mean when he’s upset,” Torram explained. “And he is the host, being that he’s king and all.”

  “Apologies. Sometimes it’s difficult to know which one of you is ruling and when.” I turned away from him, returning my attention to the river. I hadn’t been back but a few days, and I was already ready to leave.

  His feet came to rest beside mine. “Sometimes I don’t either.”

  We stood in silence for a few long seconds. The running water and growing chirp of insects filled my ears as the sun sank below the treetops. I folded my arms across my chest, despite feeling the exact opposite urge—I wanted to reach out to him.

  I was desperate for the warmth and comfort of another. I wanted to sink into his arms and feel like I wasn’t on my own for once, like I wasn’t this lone-wolf social pariah that was equal parts revered and denigrated. I wanted to be touched and felt by hands that didn’t hold malicious intentions but were there to value, enjoy, and explore with me.

  “So, does your brother intend to honor your word? Will you really come west as raid leader if we send an army to fight Essony?” I glanced at him. The moon spread its glow along his form, highlighting chiseled fe
atures and slender eyes. There was a certain savage appeal to the man. He was rigid and icy in public, but when it was just the two of us, he was charming and inviting.

  His boot kicked at the dirt. “Yes, I will go west with you.” He looked at me, meeting my eyes. “I will lead the combined armies into battle. And you, Derethe? Where will you be?”

  “What do you mean? At Svotheim and Hetla’s side, of course.”

  He shook his head. “We both know that’s not the truth. You can’t possibly intend to still be a slave at that time?”

  “Oh? What do you think I intend to be then?”

  “Free.”

  I didn’t deny or confirm that he was right. It was considered distasteful and disloyal to speak about such things, and I feared how my answer would color his opinion about me.

  “So, how will you do it?”

  “Why do you care about whether or not I am free?”

  He turned his head, meeting my eyes. “I want to know what lies before the Daughter of Athiss. I see your value and am desperate to follow where you lead. I don’t know what greatness the gods intend for you, but I don’t want to miss a minute of it.” My skin pricked as his fingers traced down my back. The touch was so light and tender, I almost didn’t feel it through my dress. “If your actions here are any testimony to your capabilities, I have all the faith in your success.”

  Warmth poured over my cheeks. I tilted my head away from him, afraid he would see me blush. “I should head back inside. Have a good evening.” I turned to go, and his hand grabbed my wrist. His grip wasn’t strong, lingering rather than holding tight.

  He released me but his gaze pummeled me. I knew what he wanted from just one glance. He had hinted at it since I arrived to Rekkesov, and now here it was, confronting me.

  “I thought we could celebrate your triumph together—the Norrender way.” His voice was tender and barely above a whisper.