Heir's of Tveriska (Part Two)

Ǫlrún and Víðarr were racing one another down the bank of the river. They’d been complaining about the cold, given that it was a colder day in late spring, so I’d told them that running would warm them up. They promptly made a race to where the outcropping was and back.  They’d insisted I’d timed them. They were at twenty-seven seconds when a person’s voice made me look up from the ax I’d been sharpening.

“Have you been sharpening that ax for ten years still?” A familiar voice asks.

I look up, surprised. I’d known it was around the ten-year mark, but it continued to surprise me when he came. His hair was shorter than when I saw him last. There were still three braided locks of hair though, just barely noticeable, behind his ear. His skin was dirt-stained, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he helped out with some farming. “Different ax,” I state, “What’re you doing here?”

Eyvindr chuckles, glancing around before deciding to sit down beside me on the log bench. “Stopping by for a bit,” He admits. He glances at the ax I held. “Still at it?”

I sigh, shaking my head. “No. I stopped a year ago,” I say, glancing towards where Ǫlrún and Víðarr were. They were beginning to run back to here now. How do I explain them to my brother?

“Oh? How come?” He asks, leaning forward to look at me.

I glance at Eyvindr before deciding to set the ax down. I gestured to the two kids, who were both sprinting as fast as they could this way. “I couldn’t go through with a job,” I admit. “So I dropped it. All of it.”

Eyvindr glances at the two, who are a quarter of the way back now. “Because of… two kids? Who would want to assassinate two kids?” He asks.

I lean back before saying, “Their Ǫlrún and Víðarr Ásbjǫrn,” I say. “Parents wanted them assassinated; I don’t know why, but they did. I explained it all to them.”

Eyvindr sighs, nodding. “You know there is a reward out for them, right? You’ll be framed for kidnapping.”

“They only did that to seem worried,” I say with a wave of my hand. I smile softly as I watch Ǫlrún and Víðarr finally make it back. Víðarr was absolutely winded, grasping his side as he stood there, doubled over and panting. Ǫlrún was laughing, amused by her little brother.

“That’s not fair,” Víðarr says, pointing at his sister as he glances at her from beneath unruly blond curls. “You’re legs are longer.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Well, they are!” Víðarr says, looking at me as he finally manages to catch his breath.

“How long was it?” Ǫlrún asks, smiling at me.

“Oh, are you sure you want to know?” I ask.

They both nod.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly tell you,”

“Kjartan!”

“It was seventy-nine slær,” I say.

“That’s faster than last time!” Víðarr says, smiling at his sister.

Ǫlrún nods, saying, “Want to do it again?”

“Yeah!” They count quickly, slurring the words together before sprinting off once more.

Eyvindr chuckles, smiling. “Why’re they racing?” He asks.

“I told them that if they run, they’ll warm up,” I admit.

“Ah, so what you used to tell me?”

I nod, smiling.

It was getting dark when I decided to take a walk to the outcropping, closer to the coast. I look down from the cliffside. The sea beneath was dark as ever. I couldn’t tell where the cliff met the sea. The waves weren’t as tall as they usually were. The wind was reckless, though. I glance over my shoulder and frown when I notice a figure. I assumed it was Eyvindr and looked back in front of me. “You remember when we’d get bored and fight with sticks up here?” I say. I frown when I hear the footsteps quicken to a jog, then a run. I look over my shoulder and see the glint of a blade. I reach for the holstered ax, but in a second, my hand burns. I dodge the blade once, but fail the second time. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t think coherently because this was happening too fast. I grasp the ax I had, my hand burning instantly when it pressed against the wooden shaft, and I swing. It must’ve hit its mark, as it stopped far too soon. I pull it and step away. I couldn’t see, but I knew my hand was bleeding, and I knew the man had cut my side as well. I look at who had done it and meet the gaze of a man I’d wished I would never see.

Sindr

“What– what are you–” I curse as I look down at my hand, switching the ax to my left hand. It was bleeding horribly now, and the ax was stained with it, too. 

“King and Queen are pretty pissed you didn’t kill those two brats,” Sindr says, stepping forward. His hair was braided out of his face, his eyes piercingly blue. “They don’t want them dead, no, not anymore, they want you dead.” He steps forward.

I step back but feel the ground crumble. I glance behind me and see the dark, vastness. I grit my teeth as I look in front of me once more. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” I say.

“No, but I’m not an idiot who's gonna pass up fifty thousand penningar,” The blade slashes forward, and by instinct, I go to step backwards.

He grabs the collar of my shirt, keeping me from falling. My breathing hitches as I grasp his arm. “If you go anywhere near them,” I say, watching him holster his sword.

He chuckles. “I’m not. Royal guard’s got ‘em probably,” He admits with a shrug. “Not that you have to worry too much.” His eyes dart to the necklace that I wore. “I’ll take that.” He tears the necklace from my neck and, with one small movement, lets go of my tunic.