Nena Ann Boelter (english books to improve english .TXT) đź“–
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- Author: Ann Boelter
Book online «Nena Ann Boelter (english books to improve english .TXT) 📖». Author Ann Boelter
Jarl nodded and watched her leave. He prayed for Nena to return unharmed, and soon.
The two riders halted facing Nena under the rippling triple white banner. Altene’s eyes were swollen and red from crying. Tryggr looked little better. Deep lines creased his haggard face, and his red hair was even more tangled than usual.
“Does he yet live?” Altene whispered.
“Yes,” Nena replied.
“Is he still…” Altene could hardly say the words, “…whole?”
“Yes. Jarl has sent me to bring you a message. He is recuperating and will fight my brother in trial by combat on the next new moon. The battle shall decide his fate.”
“Which brother?” Altene paused. “Not Lothor?”
“Yes, Lothor.”
Altene paled.
“Jarl can take any man so long as there’s no trickery involved,” Tryggr snapped and eyed her suspiciously.
“My brother insists Jarl be healthy and strong for the trial. That is the reason for the delay. He wants there to be no question of his victory.” Her voice trailed off.
“How is he injured? You said he’s recuperating,” Tryggr asked, still suspicious.
“He took several blows to the back of his head when he was first brought to the village.”
“The head, you say?” Tryggr smiled with relief. “I’ve never known a man more hardheaded than Jarl. I was worried it would be something that might slow him down, like his leg or his sword arm.” Tryggr nodded and seemed satisfied. “He will win. I have seen him fight too many battles to think otherwise. The gods favor him. Prepare to lose a brother, woman.”
“I came only to deliver that message. I must return now.” Nena turned the mare around and ended the meeting. She tried not to show how Tryggr’s words had upset her. She’d been over the same thoughts too many times. The gods favor Jarl. Was it true? And prepare to lose a brother? Could she do that? For all their recent differences, Lothor was still her blood. They had been close once, and Lothor was an honorable man. And what would it do to her father? To lose Lothor so soon after losing Ruga would kill him. But even knowing that, and how devastating Lothor’s death would be to the tribe, she could not bear the thought of Jarl being killed.
Nena rode directly to her father’s tent to inform him that the message was delivered, and that she had returned safely.
“Good.” He nodded, satisfied.
She turned to leave.
“You are to report to the cliffs tonight to begin your shift there,” he said.
“What?” Nena asked, incredulous.
“With the increased guard for such an extended period of time, we are rotating warriors at the cliffs in four day shifts now.”
“But...” Four days would be until the day of the trial!
“You’ve had enough time to recover from your journey home. There is no reason for you not to resume your responsibilities as a warrior. At least until you choose....”
Was this his way to strong arm her into choosing? Or was it something else? “But who will attend to the Northman? Lothor wishes for this to be a fair fight,” she reminded him, trying to make it seem like her concern was based on Lothor’s request and not her own desires.
“Someone else,” he said with finality.
She opened her mouth to plead her case further, then closed it and bowed her head. “Yes, Father,” she said and left the tent, stunned by his command. Jalla was waiting for her when she stepped outside. Nena groaned inwardly.
“Nena, come straight to my tent when you have put your horse away.”
“I must give message to J..., the Northman,” she corrected herself.
“I have already sent word to his guard that you have returned. Your full accounting can wait until you take his next meal. I would have important words with you.”
Nena wanted to refuse, but her aunt stood waiting with a stubborn look that indicated she was not going to accept no for an answer. “Very well,” Nena acquiesced. “I will join you shortly.”
As she fed and watered the mare, Nena wondered what Jalla had to say that was so important. Perhaps she had information about her father’s sudden decision to send her to the cliffs. After a quick, cursory brushing to remove the mare’s sweat marks, Nena hurried back to Jalla’s tent. She found her aunt sitting inside alone.
“Where is Exanthia?” Nena asked.
“She is off with her new friend. Sit down and I will redo your braid for you. It’s a mess. I can see you’re in a hurry, so I won’t keep you for long.”
Nena sat and Jalla removed her hair tie, then began to comb out her long tresses. Once the tangles were removed, she separated the hair into sections and began to plait it back into a single thick braid.
“Nena, I am going to ask you something important, and I need for you to tell me the truth,” Jalla began.
Nena was surprised by her aunt’s strange request. She would never lie to her—evade telling her the whole truth perhaps, but not lie. “Of course,” she agreed.
“Of what is it you dream at night when you cannot sleep?” Jalla felt Nena tense, and tightened her fingers in her hair.
“I cannot,” Nena whispered.
“I never asked before because I assumed you were reliving the suffering you endured while being held prisoner. There was no reason for me to hear the details of that. But now I have come to doubt that is the true source of your pain. Is that what haunts your dreams?”
“No,” Nena murmured.
Jalla exhaled slowly. Nena’s reaction told her there was at least some truth to the Northman’s words. “So he did not harm you?”
“No.”
“Did someone else?”
Nena shook her head.
“Then what?” Jalla probed gently. “It is of him you dream, yes?”
Nena’s stiff silence was the only answer.
“If he does not harm you, what does he do that so troubles you?”
Jalla’s question hung in the air, but Nena couldn’t answer. Even though she wanted to share
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