Blood and Loyalty

by Abigail Riherd

  He didn’t know.

  Disa felt her stomach drop. Every word out of his mouth was a lie, but not that. He was afraid, not just of her reappearance but of what it might mean. He’d told the men he’d killed Roe and now he was worried things were about to come to light. Disa was sure of it.

  She glanced behind her. She should follow through on the plan. She should draw into cover where Finn could finish him swiftly. Then they’d ride like hell to the gates and he could alert his men they were under attack. They’d never trust the brothers without Rurik.

  Rurik followed her gaze. “Did you...want to speak privately, my love?” he cooed.

  Disa stared at him. He wanted her alone. He wanted her to answer questions out of Agnar’s hearing. A flame of hope flickered to life inside her. She needed to get the story before he died. Did he or didn’t he. And if not, where the hell was her brother.

  “Yes,” she gushed. “Yes, I want to be alone with you. But not here. Not like this.” She laid her hand on his chest and gave him what she hoped was an adoring look.

  A smile tugged at Rurik’s lips. “Of course. Let’s go inside. It’s your home, too, after all.” He clasped her hand in both of his, kissing it lightly and pulling her back towards his horse.

  What was she doing, what was she doing?

  Rurik gestured at one of the men to help boost him onto the horse and Disa felt stupid pride that Finn could do all this in the dark, unaided, and with his arms full of her. How had she ever harbored fantasies about this man?

  Finn.

  She looked towards the brush as a stranger lifted her behind Rurik.

  Finn was going to be so mad.

  The party began to move forward once more, and Disa forced herself to keep her gaze trained ahead. She could feel Agnar and Oslaf’s eyes as they bore into her, but it was all she could do to keep her arms around Rurik’s waist, to hold her hands steady. She just prayed Finn had enough sense to let her go and enough luck to find her again later.

  She needed a plan. She’d feel better with a plan. She didn’t think getting Rurik alone was going to be a problem, but what should she do with him then? He’d never answer her questions outright. She could tell him the truth, maybe, but only if she was sure she could get away safely if need be.

  Disa’s scheming ended abruptly as they cleared the trees, the village coming into view. A tall stone wall hid most of the buildings, only the top of one great structure jutting up in the center, the semi circle barricade ending at the cliffside. Disa had to stifle a hysterical giggle. No wonder Finn seemed so adept at scaling rock walls. The entire town sat on one.

  There were some out buildings and animals scattered on this side of the wall, and the workers stopped at their approach, their hands raised to shield their eyes from the sun. Rurik didn’t greet them and neither did the people; no children dodged their mother’s grasp to chase after the band of men as they would in her own home. Everyone stared at them as they stared straight ahead.

  They reached a large wooden gate and halted. Nothing was happening and Rurik began to shift in his seat.

  “Are they going to let us in?” asked Agnar with an arched and mocking brow.

  “They probably saw his lordship approaching and locked it up tighter,” quipped Oslaf, one side of his face purple and swelling from the previous night. Had that only been last night?

  Rurik glared dangerously at Oslaf but said nothing in return. “Who mans the gate?” he shouted.

  The seconds passed in silence and Rurik needlessly adjusted his reins. He gathered another breath, ready to shout again, just as a head popped over the wall. “Sir?” the guard inquired.

  Rurik’s momentary happiness at being acknowledged seemed tempered as he saw the man. “Yes, open the gate.”

  “Where’ve you been, sir?”

  “There was an attack. Open the gates,” he repeated, working hard at a dismissive attitude.

  “I know. We all know. A massacre it seems like. We expected you back days ago. We’d feared the worst.”

  “I sent some men ahead of me. Did they not arrive?”

  “No they did. But they’s not you. Feared the worst.”

  “Yes, well I’m clearly alive.”

  “Where’s Finn?” the man asked, suddenly sharper as his eyes darted over the unfamiliar faces.

  “I’d hoped he already returned. Has he not?”

  “No one’s returned. Your brother’s not with you then?”

  “As I’ve said. Now, open the gates.”

  “Have you looked for him? Should I have the boys get together and--”

  “SILENCE,” Rurik snapped. The man crossed his arms but didn’t ask any more questions. “Listen--What’s your name?”

  “Birger,” he prompted after a moment.

  “Birger. It’s been a hard week. Open the gates.”

  “Who are these soldiers then?”

  Rurik closed his eyes, his mouth twisting unpleasantly. “They’re my men,” Agnar declared. “Open the gates for your Jarl or we shall begin to suspect you don’t want him inside. Perhaps ask you a few pointed questions about what happened at our Great Thing,” he added mildly, his hand resting on his sword.

  “Alright, alright. Just concerned is all.”

  He disappeared again and the three men exchanged looks Disa couldn’t quite decipher, though she imagined at least some of Agnar’s annoyance stemmed from her presence and their inability to talk freely.

  There was some clanking and scraping, and then the doors began to be pushed open by a line of men, and Disa wished she was getting her first glimpse of this place with Finn instead of the pathetic creature before her.

  “Forgetting something?” cried a familiar voice. Disa nearly fell of the horse she turned so fast. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. She winced at the high-pitched squeal of a dozen swords being pulled in unison.

  It was.

  “Don’t want to leave such a pretty thing behind,” Grim smiled as he pat Finn’s unconscious body sprawled on the back of his horse. Disa’s happiness at the sight of Grim died as she saw the steady stream of blood dripping from Finn’s head to the ground.

  “What--” she forced herself to bite off the rest of the sentence, suddenly aware of her position.

  “SEIZE HIM!” Agnar hollered.

  Grim smiled even wider, his body completely relaxed. Disa couldn’t help but notice his axe was missing; he was unarmed.

  “You!” Agnar spat, turning his horse to face her. “Lock her up as well. There is a trick here, somewhere.”

  “You said my brother was dead,” Rurik cried as he grabbed her wrist and half pulled half pushed her off his horse to the ground.

  “I didn’t know,” she said lamely, her fear preventing her brain from working properly, all possible excuses dying on her tongue. “I didn’t know.”

  The crowd of men parted and Disa saw Grim on his knees as a pair of soldiers bound his wrists. His eyes met hers and his arrogant smile fell away at once. “Disa?”

  “Grim,” she cried as two men fell on her, shoving her face into the dirt.

  “Disa! No.” Grim stood, wrenching his arms from one man’s grasp, and lurched towards her. Two more men jumped after him but he kicked them to the ground. “Get off me!” he shouted as he head-butted a third, the mercenaries no match for him even with his hands bound. Grim struggled to reach her, but he wasn’t going to make it. The soldiers tackled him, their feet making contact with his stomach and under his chin with a frightening crack.

  Disa felt helpless and she didn’t like it. She twisted once to test the confines of her bounds and was met with a knee digging into her back. She cried out in pain, hating the show of weakness.

  “She isn’t with me,” Grim shouted. “I had no idea.”

  Disa was hauled to her feet and found herself face-to-face with Rurik. “Is this true?”

  Disa let herself feel all the misery pulsing through her and hoped it would make her all the more convincing when it really counte
d. “Yes,” she stuttered through tears. “I had no idea he was alive until just this moment.”

  “She happens to show up at the same time as the thrall? I doubt it,” Oslaf sneered.

  “He isn’t a thrall,” she snapped before she could stop herself. “And if I had known he was alive, I would have sought him out. I would have asked him to escort me here. To you,” she added, looking at Rurik. “You’re going to be my husband. Why are you doing this?” Her voice hit an unpleasant high note at the end, and Disa hoped it would come off as whiny instead of disgusted.

  Oslaf still didn’t look convinced and Agnar was impossible to read, but she could tell Rurik was beginning to doubt. “He’s killed my brother, yet you protect him?”

  “I didn’t kill your brother, you horse’s ass.” Grim grunted as he took a sharp elbow to the gut.

  “I don’t understand what’s happening,” Disa wailed. She was bound, weaponless, and surrounded by the enemy, but they were men. And if men could be counted on for one thing, it was an aversion for hysterics. Disa scrunched up her face tighter and really let loose, her loud cries grating even her own nerves.

  Rurik pulled her into his chest and Disa forced herself to nuzzle close with a few loud sniffles and a few sobs. “You didn’t come here with him?” he whispered.

  “N--N--Nooo…”

  “And my brother?”

  “I’ve been a-a-a-alone this whole--whole time!”

  Rurik pushed closer to her ear. “And you really haven’t seen your brother since the feast night?”

  Disa held her breath and shook her head. Some of the tension left Rurik’s body as he idly patted her back between hiccups. “I think you might be mistaken,” Rurik said lightly. “And I don’t appreciate these unfounded accusations being hurled at my future bride.”

  “I’m still not so sure,” Agnar growled. “Is she even useful at this point?”

  Rurik shrugged his shoulders. Disa forced herself to keep up the little crying noises; doing everything she could to seem uninterested and oblivious.

  Agnar sighed wearily. “Get everyone inside, lock them up, sort this mess out. I’m going to send a note to Ragnar about this latest...development.” Rurik nodded and Agnar gathered his reins. “Keep the thrall conscious for me, will you? I have a few questions of my own I’d like to put to him.” With that he was off.

  Rurik pulled Disa away from him and looked down on her kindly. It made her want to throw up. “I believe you,” he said. “I’m sorry about the chaos.”

  “Are you going to lock me up?” she asked, her bottom lip jutting stupidly.

  “No, of course not.”

  Oslaf frowned. “Agnar said--”

  “I’m aware of what Agnar said,” Rurik bit. “See those two into a cell. Figure out if Finn is breathing. Bring him to the hall when - if - he wakes up.”

  “Why are you putting your brother in a cell?” she ventured, knowing she was pushing her luck but unable to help herself. It was taking all the willpower she possessed to not run to him herself.

  Finn’s men seemed hesitant to obey the request and looked at Rurik curiously, as if they too wished to know the answer. Rurik, however, was done answering questions. He barked at two of Agnar’s men to see the job done and handed Disa off as well. “Take her to the smaller hall and lock the doors. For her protection,” he added as an afterthought.

  Disa was quickly escorted through the small market place and hay-strewn courtyards, and she couldn’t help but notice how barren everything seemed. Except for the stray stolen glance through shuttered windows, there were hardly any townspeople in sight. Only small groups of soldiers huddled together, quietly watching the influx of strangers, and Disa desperately tried to make eye contact with any of them.

  Help me, she screamed in her head. Help Finn.

  Grim had been escorted before her, and Finn after. Her head whipped back and forth, but Grim was too far ahead and she could barely see him as he struggled, mouthing something indistinguishable, and Finn was still at the gates, stretched motionless on the ground.

  The men pushed her towards the largest building in town, a stone structure towering above the rest. She barely had enough time to appreciate the workmanship before she was hauled through the large doors, blinking at the sudden darkness and damp chill. There were half a dozen doors off the main entrance hall, but all were tightly closed. No telling where Grim had been locked away. Disa heard a muffled cry coming from under the main stairwell but didn’t have time to consider it before she was being dragged upstairs, her legs alarmingly weak from the stress of the last few weeks. She strained her ears, but heard nothing more before she was unceremoniously shoved into the room at the end of the hall, the lock clicking behind her.

  The space was mostly empty save for a small table and chairs. Disa ran to the windows, tugging the furs down, and peaked out the tall narrow frames. There were no buildings close enough for her to land on if she jumped, though to be honest, she probably couldn’t have stomached it anyway. Two windows opened onto the courtyard, empty save a few goats and a stray hay wagon, and the third onto a narrow path that ended abruptly in a cliff.

  “Of course it does. Of course there’s a cliff. There’s always a damned cliff,” she muttered to herself.

  Disa sat at on the edge of the table and took a deep breath. Think, think. There’s always a way out. Think.

  Disa sat and Disa thought, but her thoughts went like this: Finn. Finn. Finn.

  Finn woke suddenly in the dark, a sharp pain shooting down his spine. He groaned and gripped his head, trying to pull his muddled thoughts together. “Son of a bitch,” he ground out.

  “Alive then, eh?”

  Finn’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, reaching for a sword that wasn’t there, his vision doubling, one stranger, then two, then one again. “Where’s--” he clamped his mouth shut, partially because of the nausea but mostly because yelling out Disa’s name could get them in more trouble than not. The last he remembered she was riding away and then...blank.

  “Your brother?” the stranger inquired as he stood up and ambled to the door. “Oh, he’s around, I’m sure.”

  Rurik?

  Finn glanced around, recognition slowly dawning on him. He was in a cell. “Son of a...I want to see my brother,” he demanded as the man shut the door, locking it firmly behind him.

  “I’m not so sure he wants to see you,” the soldier chuckled hoarsely. Finn listened as the man sauntered back down the hall. “Still alive in there?” he barked at another cell before moving on.

  Dammit.

  The back of Finn’s head was throbbing in time with his heartbeat and Finn fingered it gently. The area was clean and stitched, no sticky blood to be felt. The same couldn’t be said for his clothes.

  Hope this isn’t all mine, he mused, the shocking expanse of red making his shirt stick to his chest. He took a few deep breaths and steadied himself. There was no way his brother could force him to remain locked up in his own keep. It was a waiting game now. His brother held the power and would keep it until Finn knew Disa was safe, or at least unharmed. Perhaps safe in this nest of snakes was too much to ask for.

  Finn untied his empty sheath and stood. He wasn’t going to sit here and do nothing. He started to bang rhythmically on the door’s barred window with the hard leather. The racket did nothing for the headache he was already battling but he had little choice. His brother’s patience was short. Finn just needed to be annoying enough so he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. It’d worked when they were kids, it’d work now.

  A small face appeared in the opening and Finn jerked back in surprise. “Are you alright?” the woman asked.

  “Who are you?” he frowned, her face familiar.

  She pursed her lips. “Dalla, sir. I’ve been asked to tend the men being held. I saw to your head.”

  “Right. Thank you. I need to see my brother.”

  A shadow crossed her pale, drawn face but her voice remained steady. “I’ll call a
guard for you.”

  “No wait,” he implored as she moved away. “Dalla, right?” She nodded. “You’re from here. I recognize you.”

  The girl put her hands on her hips, her face heating quickly. “I’ve lived here my entire life, Finn.”

  “Right, sorry. I’m sorry.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “It’s fine. You’ve never noticed anything that didn’t have a sword in its hand.”

  “Guilty,” he grinned, thinking of the first time he saw Disa. “Something’s going on. You know that, you seem smart.” She rolled her eyes at his attempted flattery but she didn’t leave. “I need you to let me out. I can take care of this, but not from in here.”

  She hesitated. “I was sent down here to see to a prisoner. If they find out…”

  “I’ll be too busy raising hell for anyone to think too hard about how I got out. I promise.” He smiled again, but the action felt more desperate than charming. He couldn’t help it. Diplomacy had always been his brother’s dominion. Until recently, apparently.

  They watched each other intently in silence. Finn could feel his skin start to crawl but he forced himself to remain quiet and calm.

  Please believe me, he thought. Please.

  Disa heard a scraping against the lock and her heart lurched. She stood quickly and smoothed her skirts, trying to look composed. How far could she push this dimwitted lady act and pretend to not understand what was going on. Part of her wanted to drop the whole thing lest she be forced to kiss the traitor.

  Rurik pushed the door open and smiled when he saw her. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting so long.”

  Waiting wasn’t exactly the word Disa would use. Imprisoned, maybe, or captive. “That’s alright. Has everything calmed?”

  “Yes,” he assured. “It’s been quite the afternoon, but it’s much better now.”

  Disa couldn’t tell if he was trying to be charming or if he really meant it. Perhaps the day had turned in his favor. Was Finn dead? Or maybe Finn had lived. Maybe he didn’t consider his brother a threat yet and was happy to have him survive. “Your brother is well then?” she ventured recklessly.