Chapter 2
The ships did not attack.
They stopped beyond bow range.
That frightened Rurik more.
An army that came to burn did not wait politely beyond the harbor ice.
An army that wanted something waited.
By dusk, twelve black-sailed ships sat in a crescent beyond the frozen inlet.
No landing boats.
No arrows.
No horns.
Only ravens.
Inside the great hall, every argument returned to Sigrid.
Jarl Orm wanted her chained.
Captain Sten wanted her guarded but free.
Three elders wanted her wrist examined by priests.
One priest suggested cutting the mark away.
Sigrid offered to cut off the entire arm if he volunteered to hold the axe.
The priest sat down.
Yara stayed with Leif in the king’s private room.
The boy had finally fallen asleep.
His hand rested on her chest.
Tiny.
Unharmed.
That should have been the only thing that mattered.
Instead warships waited outside.
Someone had marked the signal tower.
And the king’s sister carried a brand placed by the enemy commander thirteen years earlier.
Rurik entered quietly.
He closed the door.
For once, no guards.
He looked at Leif.
“Asleep?”
“Yes.”
“Did he eat?”
“Some bread.”
Rurik sat.
“You think I handled the hall badly.”
Yara almost smiled.
“You ask dangerous questions.”
“I am king.”
“That does not make the answers safe.”
He looked at her.
“Did I?”
“You nearly punished me before asking what happened.”
His face tightened.
“Yes.”
“You do that often?”
“No.”
“You did today.”
“Yes.”
She respected the answer.
Rurik looked at Leif’s hand.
“I saw my sister crying and you standing over her.”
“So?”
“So I believed the story that fit what I saw.”
Yara nodded.
“That is how people die.”
He looked up.
Her village entered the room without her naming it.
Rurik knew fragments.
Hrafnmark raiders.
Burned homes.
Captured survivors sold north.
He had bought Yara’s bond from a trader after discovering she could read three languages.
He later placed her in the nursery because Leif liked her songs.
A king could be kind inside a cruel system.
Yara had not decided what that made him.
Rurik said, “The mark.”
“What about it?”
“You recognized it.”
“Yes.”
“From your village.”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
“Not simply Hrafnmark.”
He leaned forward.
“Explain.”
“The common raven is army.”
She traced three hooks in the air.
“The split mark belongs to Vargan’s oath bands.”
“Elite warriors?”
“Sometimes.”
“Spies?”
“Sometimes.”
“Captives?”
Yara thought of Sigrid.
“Yes.”
Rurik’s face tightened.
“The brand means ownership.”
“Or belonging.”
“To Vargan.”
“To the oath.”
Rurik stared.
“What oath?”
Yara shook her head.
“I do not know.”
He looked frustrated.
“You saw the raiders.”
“I saw enough to run.”
That stopped him.
He nodded.
“Fair.”
A knock.
Sigrid entered before permission.
Captain Sten followed.
Sigrid looked at Leif.
She did not approach.
Good.
Yara noticed.
Rurik said, “Ships sent a messenger.”
Sigrid went still.
“What message?”
Sten placed a strip of black leather on the table.
A symbol burned into it.
Split Raven.
Underneath, runes.
Rurik read:
RETURN WHAT WAS PROMISED.
Yara felt cold.
“What was promised?”
Rurik looked at Sigrid.
She stared at the message.
“No.”
Her voice changed.
Not anger.
Fear.
Rurik stepped closer.
“What?”
“No.”
“Sigrid.”
She backed away.
Yara had never seen the woman retreat from anything.
“Tell me.”
Sigrid closed her eyes.
“When Vargan kept me, he did not call me prisoner.”
“What did he call you?”
“Daughter.”
Silence.
Rurik stared.
Sigrid laughed bitterly.
“Not because he loved me.”
Yara understood before the king did.
“Hostage.”
Sigrid looked at her.
“Yes.”
“He planned to use you in marriage.”
“Yes.”
Rurik’s face darkened.
“To whom?”
“His son.”
“Which?”
“Einar.”
Captain Sten swore.
Einar Vargansson.
Vargan’s eldest living son.
Commander of the Raven Fleet.
The same man rumored to be leading the ships beyond the harbor.
Rurik stared.
“You were promised to Einar.”
“When I was fourteen.”
“By Father?”
“No.”
Sigrid looked at her wrist.
“By Vargan.”
Rurik’s voice hardened.
“That is not a promise.”
“It was to him.”
“Did Einar touch you?”
Sigrid looked at him.
“Do not ask questions you cannot answer with blood.”
Rurik went still.
Yara looked away.
There were truths people had a right not to perform.
Sigrid continued.
“I escaped before the marriage.”
“How?”
“Einar helped me.”
Everyone looked at her.
Rurik whispered, “What?”
Sigrid’s face tightened.
“He hated his father.”
“Then why is he leading the fleet now?”
“I do not know.”
Yara felt the complexity deepen.
Sigrid said, “He cut my bonds. Gave me a horse. Told me to ride west.”
“Why?”
“Because he was seventeen and still believed one good act could make him different from Vargan.”
Her voice broke slightly.
“Maybe it did.”
Rurik looked toward the harbor.
“The message says return what was promised.”
Sigrid shook her head.
“He would not ask for me.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am not.”
That honesty mattered.
Captain Sten said, “Could refer to something else.”
Rurik frowned.
“What?”
Sigrid looked at Leif.
Then away.
Yara saw it.
“No.”
Everyone turned.
Yara stood carefully without waking the boy.
“You know something about Leif.”
Sigrid’s face hardened.
“Do not.”
“What?”
“Do not make guesses about my nephew.”
“You looked at him when Sten said something else.”
Rurik’s expression changed.
“Sigrid.”
She cursed softly.
Then sat.
“I did not want this.”
“What?”
“When Father took me back, Vargan sent one message.”
Rurik waited.
“He said Skeld had stolen blood owed to the Raven line.”
Rurik frowned.
“You.”
“I thought so.”
“But?”
Sigrid looked at Leif.
“Years later, when you married Astrid…”
Rurik’s late wife.
Leif’s mother.
Dead in childbirth.
Sigrid continued.
“Vargan sent another message.”
“What did it say?”
“That the debt would pass to the first son.”
The room froze.
Rurik looked at his sleeping child.
“No.”
Sigrid nodded.
“I thought it was threat theater.”
“You told no one?”
“I told Father.”
“What did he say?”
“That Vargan wanted fear.”
“Maybe he did.”
“Yes.”
Sigrid looked at Yara.
“Fear works.”
Yara thought of the hammer.
It had worked on Sigrid too.
Fear of weakness.
Fear of invasion.
Fear of Leif growing soft.
Different chains.
Rurik said, “Why would Vargan claim Leif?”
“Because he wants legitimacy.”
Captain Sten spoke.
“To Skeld?”
Sigrid nodded.
“Vargan’s grandmother was Skeld-born.”
Rurik stared.
“A minor branch.”
“Still blood.”
Sten said, “A claim through marriage to the king’s sister would be stronger.”
Sigrid’s face tightened.
“And if that failed, claim the next generation through invented oath.”
Yara looked at the leather message.
“Return what was promised.”
Not necessarily Sigrid.
Maybe Leif.
Rurik’s face went cold.
“No one touches my son.”
Sigrid laughed without humor.
“That is what Father said about me.”
The sentence landed.
Rurik looked at her.
Sigrid continued.
“And then he hid what happened because my shame was inconvenient.”
Yara watched the king absorb it.
He reached for Leif.
The boy stirred.
Yara said, “Do not move him.”
Rurik stopped.
“He is my son.”
“He is sleeping.”
The king stared.
Then sat back.
Sten almost smiled.
A horn sounded outside.
One note.
Harbor parley.
Sten moved to the window.
“A boat.”
Rurik stood.
“How many?”
“Three men.”
“Banner?”
Sten looked closer.
“White cloth.”
Sigrid’s face drained.
“What?”
“Einar used white wolf fur when he wanted private parley.”
Rurik looked at her.
“You know that after thirteen years?”
“Yes.”
He studied her.
Sigrid met his gaze.
“If you are going to accuse me, do it cleanly.”
“I am not.”
“Not yet.”
Rurik turned to Sten.
“Bring the envoy.”
Yara said, “No.”
Everyone looked.
She pointed at Leif.
“Not into the hall.”
Rurik frowned.
“Why?”
“Because whoever marked the tower already knew Sigrid’s secret.”
Silence.
Yara continued.
“That person is inside.”
Sten nodded slowly.
“And if the envoy walks through the palace, every hidden ally learns what he says.”
Rurik looked at her.
“You want me to meet outside.”
“Or in the old boathouse.”
Sigrid frowned.
“The boathouse has three exits.”
Yara nodded.
“Exactly.”
Rurik smiled faintly.
“You think like a thief.”
“I survived traders.”
“Same profession?”
“Sometimes.”
Sten coughed to hide a laugh.
The envoy arrived after moonrise.
Not Einar.
A young woman in a black cloak.
Freydis.
Einar’s half sister.
Sigrid recognized her instantly.
Freydis saw Sigrid and stopped.
“You live.”
Sigrid’s face changed.
“You knew I did.”
“I knew rumor.”
Freydis looked older than the girl Sigrid remembered.
Of course.
Thirteen years.
She bowed to Rurik.
“King of Skeld.”
“Daughter of Vargan.”
“Unfortunately.”
Rurik’s eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
“What does your father want?”
Freydis looked at Sigrid.
“My father wants war.”
Everyone froze.
Sten reached for his sword.
Freydis raised both hands.
“I did not come for him.”
Rurik said, “Then for whom?”
“My brother.”
“Einar.”
“Yes.”
Sigrid’s face tightened.
Freydis continued.
“Einar brought the fleet to stop Vargan’s ground army from crossing the ice.”
Silence.
Rurik laughed once.
“You expect me to believe the enemy fleet is protecting me?”
“No.”
Freydis looked toward the harbor.
“I expect you to believe Einar is protecting something he hates his father enough to save.”
“What?”
She looked at Sigrid.
Then at the palace.
“The child.”
Rurik stepped forward.
“Why?”
Freydis’s answer came slowly.
“Because Vargan does not want Leif dead.”
Yara felt dread.
Freydis continued.
“He wants the boy crowned under a Raven regency.”
Sigrid closed her eyes.
Rurik’s face hardened.
“That is impossible.”
“Not if you die.”
Sten drew his sword.
Freydis did not move.
Rurik’s voice chilled.
“Is that a threat?”
“A warning.”
“From Einar?”
“Yes.”
“Proof?”
Freydis reached inside her cloak.
Sten’s blade came up.
She stopped.
“Letter.”
Rurik nodded.
She removed parchment.
Black wax.
Split Raven.
Inside, only one line.
THE KING DIES BEFORE THE SECOND SNOW.
Rurik stared.
Yara asked, “When is second snow?”
Sigrid answered.
“Tomorrow night, if the weather holds.”
The room went silent.
Freydis looked at Rurik.
May you like
“Someone in your hall already carries Vargan’s knife.”
And outside, the black ships remained still while snow began to fall.
