At least it’s not as sore as it used to be. Neve rubbed at her leg with a slight wince, leaning heavily against her crutches for a long moment before resuming her trek toward the fire. She’d promised Tala she’d help keep the twins entertained so the other woman might actually be able to accomplish something before noon. J.T. and Jacqueline kept telling her that it looked like the break was healing up fine, but Neve couldn’t help but wonder if they’d have told her if it were otherwise.
It’s not like any of us would be able to do anything about it if it wasn’t.
“Hellfire and frostspawn, don’t you have some decent brew around here?”
Neve froze, her heart slamming into her throat.
What in blazes is she doing here?
“Just sit down,” Thom’s voice growled. “We don’t have any fresh mead or anything like that and even if we did, we wouldn’t be drinking it this close to dawn. Have some coffee like the rest of us.”
Neve had to swallow twice before she was able to breathe enough to resume her limping journey toward the fire. Marin and Thom were sitting there, the latter glaring up at the cloaked figure that Neve would have known in a meadhall or on a battlefield.
“Sif Freyrsdottir,” she said quietly. “What’s brought you to our fire?”
The blonde warrior woman turned, eyes widening slightly. “Lady Neve. This is unexpected.”
“Many things are.” Neve swallowed her heart back down and into place, moving carefully around the taller woman and toward her usual spot near the fire. Marin stood up to help her sit, for which Neve was silently grateful.
The last thing I want is to unceremoniously fall on my ass in front of this woman. She’d take it as some bloody sign of weakness and that would be that.
“Do you still bear it?”
She meant the sword. One corner of Neve’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I’ve found its master. It hangs next our bed at night.”
The sense of smug satisfaction that came with the flare of jealousy and pain in Sif’s eyes was unbecoming, but for a brief moment Neve decided she didn’t care. There had been too many years of tension and jealousy between she and Sif for her not to take at least momentary satisfaction in having something the warrior woman didn’t.
She had her lover all those years. Now I’ve found the one I’ve always been searching for. It’s not my fault that she forsook Thor Odinson and slept with his brother.
“Where is your brother?” Sif asked, her tone stiff. “I would have words with him.”
“Teague is a thousand miles from here,” Neve said, her stomach giving an uncomfortable lurch. Someone spilled. Probably Phelan. Gods and monsters, why can’t he keep his big mouth shut? “It’ll be quite a hike if you want to go skewer him for what he told Thordin. If I were you, I’d be making up for lost time right now.”
Sif’s jaw tightened. “He’s rather cross with me right now, actually,” she said, her voice as tart as an under-ripe melon. “He doesn’t seem to understand the seriousness of the situation I was in when he was…suddenly gone.”
“So explain it to him,” Neve said, chin lifting. “Don’t be blaming Teague for your current predicament. You could have run.”
The other woman’s laugh was bitter. “To where? There was no place safe.”
Neve held her tongue, counting to ten. She jumped at the sound of Marin’s voice.
“Ireland,” she said, as confident as Neve had ever heard her. “Ireland was safe. You could have gone there and found her people and they would have sheltered you both.
“After all, they sheltered his blood after you abandoned him, too.”
hmmmmm..Sounds like the whole story is going to be revealed.
Thanks for the latest post.
The question one must ask, however, is this:
How the hell would Marin know?
Wonderful – as always. Thanks!
Thank you!