The man stands, dipping his chin before he turns around and walks out of the room. The women all turn toward me. Oili and Sylvi are smiling, but Runa looks a bit, unnerved. Ignoring the smiling girls, I shift my attention to Runa.
“What is it?” I demand.
Runa shakes her head, her gaze flicking up to meet mine. “I do not know,” she mutters. “It seems to have happened all in a perfectly neat and tidy succession. Isolda and her draugr, then Sybilla has been found, and they wish to meet in a nondescript place. I just do not think that all of this is by happenstance, especially with how insistent he was being.”
Pressing my lips together, I look to Sylvi, then back to Runa. “I agree. It seems odd that it’s all happened in this perfect timing. Do you think he’s a spy or something?”
I don’t know why it seems so deliciously fun to think about intrigue and spies, like this isn’t real life and people won’t die, because they already have, and more will I’m sure. I can’t deny that there is a thrill to all of this though.
Something mysterious and intriguing. I can practically taste that something so much bigger is about to happen, and I know without a doubt that it’s going to be exciting.
If the prophecy, if set forth by the gods, comes to fruition, it’s all so fantastical and I am excited to see the outcome. I just hope that no more lives are ruined.
“He very well could be, but for who, I don’t know. He was sent with your letter to find Sybilla, a man who keeps one ear to the ground, traveling to other countries often…”
“But?” I ask.
She shrugs a shoulder. “It just seems odd. Hopefully Aaric comes back soon.”
There is a moment of silence, and Sylvi clears her throat. “Yes, I hope Aaric comes back soon, too.”
A sudden feeling of impending doom settles over me, and I too wish that Aaric were here. Suddenly, things don’t feel as exciting as they did just moments ago, instead my stomach aches. Bending over slightly, I wrap my arm around my middle as I look up into Runa’s eyes.
“Something is wrong,” I gasp.
My knees give out and I fall forward. I hear the screams of the women around me, then I hear Runa’s murmurs right before everything goes completely dark.
Chapter Thirty-Six
AARIC
The sea, she calls to me.
It used to be that no other woman could ever compare to the love that I held for the sea. That has changed, mainly because my woman is a sea siren. Whether she was a woman of the sea before or not, that is what she is now. The gods provided a woman for me in all ways, including her obvious love and attachment for the ocean.
“The seas fare rough tonight, Aaric,” Kjeld murmurs.
She is rough tonight. I nod in agreement, not verbally saying anything as I stare forward. It has been two weeks since I have seen my víf. Perhaps the sea knows of my ache for her, to see her again.
“She will calm once we are home again. She is just taking us to where we belong,” I rasp.
Kjeld grunts, but doesn’t walk away. Instead, he stands next to me and looks out over the rough seas. He stands right where Gunnar used to. “I miss him,” he admits softly.
“I do too. It does not feel the same without him at our backs, without either of them there,” I confess.
Kjeld is silent for a moment, our focus on the sea and nowhere else. Then he clears his throat. “They are in Valhalla, but Fiske is not.”
“Nei, he is not. He was weak, Kjeld. In body, but most of all in mind. It was only a matter of time before it got the best of him. If I could have gone back, if I could have changed things. I would have tried,” I admit. “Isolda should have never been my bed slave, she should have never been his. If I had known, I would have ended her life before she made it on Strïth all those years ago.”
“It was the fate of the gods, I supposed,” he murmurs.
“It was,” I agree.
There is a moment of silence, then I clear my throat. “We must move on from this. We will prevail at whatever the fates have in store for us. No matter what it is.”
“Do you have a feeling, Aaric?”
Do I tell him the truth? Do I tell him that my middle aches as if something is not right? Do I tell him that I worry over Liv? Or do I wait until we arrive in the next day or two to see what, if anything, has happened?
It is probably just the effects of what has happened, Quest’s appearance and the deal with him for Seeress, the draugr, the Blood Eagle, everything. It has been a trying few weeks and I will be glad to get home and see to my Liv and my child.
We retire for the night, though I don’t sleep. I cannot. Instead, I continue to watch the waves, waiting to see Wolfjour Ail come into view. It feels as though it only takes minutes. I watch and wait, but I know that it fairs much longer than that.
The sun slowly rises over the mountains of Attleview. Grinning, I shout to the men to move faster. They do, obviously just as invigorated as I am to be home with their families.
It doesn’t take us long to dock the ships. I pause, looking around for all of the women who usually meet their men. The docks are empty. Completely empty. There is an eerie feeling that takes over my entire body.
As soon as the ship is secured to the dock, I jump off. My feet carry me as quickly as possible. I run toward the húsgørd, toward my Liv. When I arrive, I push the doors open, only to find it full of people. They are all sitting down around the room, worried expressions painted on their faces.
“Aaric,” Sylvi’s voice cries out.
Turning to her, I take a step toward her, then stop in my tracks. She has tear-streaked cheeks, her eyes are red and puffy. “What?” I demand.
She shakes her head, holding her hand out for me to take. I do not take it. As her brother, I would, but as her konungr, in front of my people, I cannot. She nods once, understanding my stance and turns around.
Following behind Sylvi, my stomach twists and aches with each step that I take closer to my bedroom. I curse beneath my breath, knowing that something is wrong, terribly wrong. It feels so much bigger than anything I’ve ever experienced before. This is bigger than even finding Liv, I can feel it deep in my bones.
Stepping into the bedroom, Oili and Runa both stand. They are at Liv’s bedside. Lifting my gaze to my wife, I watch her for a moment. She’s lying down, though her eyes are closed, she looks well and at peace.
“What has happened?” I demand.
Runa clears her throat, she looks back at Liv, then to me. “She bled,” she whispers. “I do not know if the child has survived. I will not let her leave her bed.”
My breath leaves my body. “Aaric,” Runa calls softly. Lifting my gaze to meet hers, I tilt my head to the side. “A man came. He said that he found her sister, Sybilla. She is the queen of Bunafi. He claimed that they would like to meet in a neutral place, he was insistent. She fell ill as soon as he arrived. I have not been able to find him, not anywhere.”
My teeth gnash together. My nostrils flare as I attempt to breathe. Turning away from my wife, I march out of the room, ignoring the cries of the women in my life behind me. The cries of all the women except the one I wish to hear crying out my name—Liv.
Kjeld and Sten are standing in the middle of the dining hall, their arms crossed over their chest as they watch me approach.