[This post is from Thordin’s point of view.]
Matt grabbed his shoulder, snapping Thordin out of his rage. His hand froze inches from Menhit’s throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Cameron was there, gathering Sif up into his arms. Her gaze was on him, her complexion already waxy.
Thordin’s heart rose into his throat. The rain hid the tears he knew were rolling down his cheeks. It was hard to breathe.
What am I doing?
Matt stepped around him slowly and trapped Menhit’s free hand with his foot, leveling his warhammer at Anhur. “If you move an eyelash, I will finish the job she started. Do not think I won’t.”
Menhit stared up at Matt, mirth fading and expression hardening. “I warned her that they wouldn’t let her keep you. Is she dead, then?”
“She told you to leave us alone,” Matt said, his voice low. “Where the hell do you get off, not listening?”
Her eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t give me orders. Not anymore.”
“Then don’t use her as an excuse for being here,” Matt snarled. “And if you even think about laying a finger on her, you’ll answer to me. If you survive today and breathe a word about where she is and who she’s with, I will hunt you down and end you myself. Trust me on that.”
Cold gripped Thordin as he reached down to wrap a hand none-too-gently around Menhit’s throat. His fingers no longer crackled with lightning, though his grip on the storm remained. “Choose your words carefully,” he whispered, staring at her. “Answer me truthfully if you want to have a prayer of living to see another sunset. Why are you here? Who sent you?”
She stared at him, her jaw tight. “Leviathan,” she said after a few silent moments. “He made an offer too good to refuse. You and yours spurned him. You’re an impediment. He wants you out of the picture if you won’t join him and he knows that with Seamus the Black and the Wanderer in your camp, you never will. Those bastards are more stubborn than any other men the world has ever seen.”
Matt rocked a little harder onto her wrist and Menhit hissed softly. Anhur made a pained sound but didn’t make any moves toward them, instead shrinking back as Thordin and Matt both skewered him with a glare. Matt’s gaze returned to Menhit.
“You return to that bastard,” he said, his voice low. “You tell him he can shove his deal where the sun doesn’t shine and if he doesn’t like it, he can blow it out his ass. You tell him that we’re not interested in helping him take over the world. We’re not interested in his plots and his alliances or any of that bullshit. You tell him that if he comes after my family again—if he comes for my wife—then he will answer to me and I know he remembers what the Ridden Druid could do. You tell him that.”
“You’re as insane as he was if you think I’m going to do that,” Menhit snarled. “I value my life.”
“If you valued your life, you wouldn’t have come here at all,” Thordin said softly.
His fingers tightened until her eyes grew wide.
“No,” Anhur whispered. “No, don’t.” He started to move. Matt brandished his warhammer and he stopped moving, staring at Thordin, staring at Menhit struggling as she tried to breathe.
Thordin loosened his grip when she stopped moving, waited to see the faint rise and fall of her chest. He stood slowly, glaring down at Anhur.
“Take her and quit the field,” he said. “I have given you your lives this time. I didn’t have to have mercy.” Thordin turned, moving toward Cameron, reaching to take Sif from his arms. She was still pale, barely conscious, her eyes on him. His breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment.
“If my lady succumbs to the wound your lady dealt her, then both of your lives will be forfeit. There will be nowhere you can hide. I promise you that.”
Cradling Sif against his chest, Thordin turned and walked back toward the walls, ignoring the storm, the camazotzi, and the lightning that cleared his path.
Matt and Cameron turned and followed in his wake.