Nena Ann Boelter (english books to improve english .TXT) 📖

again more than our original expected price. We are all rich men, and Piltor is probably standing with cock in hand at this very moment wondering what happened. It is done. The payment is loaded securely on the ships and a contingent of men left behind to guard it. When I learned you were in need of assistance, and there was sport to be had, I hastened the time frame a bit.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but this is not a fight I would ask another man to bleed for.”

Gunnar shook his head, suddenly serious. “We all know the prize, and there is no man here who did not volunteer. We have followed you into worse....” He glanced at the imposing red cliffs in the distance and raised his eyebrows. “Well, perhaps not worse situations before, but we are not about to change now. If you are willing to risk your own life, then so are we. The gods have always favored you. ”

“Speaking of the gods, please tell me you brought some ale,” Tryggr interrupted him. “I have prayed to them for some every day.”

“Ale? Of course I brought ale—and wine and mead. What kind of party would it be without those?” Gunnar laughed and slapped Tryggr on the shoulder.

Nena was just leaving the bath hut with Exanthia when the messenger came running up. “More Northmen have arrived outside the canyon walls,” the messenger panted. “Your father requests your presence right away.”

Nena handed her bath supplies to Exanthia. “Take these back to the tent for me. I will come back as soon as I am finished. Everything is alright.” Nena smiled to reassure her, then stroked the back of Exanthia’s wet hair. As soon as the girl moved away, Nena turned back to the messenger and nodded, her expression serious. He picked up a jog, and Nena matched his pace back to the council tent. She slowed her breathing as she followed him inside.

“A large Northmen force has joined the small camp outside the gates. They are sending multiple groups to the northeast and southeast sides of the mountain,” one of the cliff guards reported.

“Are they trying to breach?” her father asked.

“Occasionally, but they are easily turned back. These Northmen do not have the stomach to fight.”

“They are reconnaissance scouts,” Nena interrupted. “They are not trying to breach. They are probing our defenses and reporting our responses back to their leader,” Nena said, her voice grim. “They do this before every battle; then he decides the best way to attack.” She thought of the many times she had heard those reports relayed to Jarl.

“Attack? Why would they return to do that? They avoided our lands the first time and were well past us. Why do they come back now?” someone from the crowd asked. “I thought you said they would have to leave. Not only did they not leave, now there are more of them—many, many more of them.”

Nena’s mind was racing. From the sounds of it, Jarl had moved his full force to the gates. He would not have done that for her. He would not risk so many of his men for a woman—a slave. Then why?

The answer hit her like a blow to the stomach. She was a fool. He had not come for her at all. His spirit was not being choked. The gods had not sent him. He’d come for the Teclan treasure—the treasure she had told him about. All this time, she’d been so concerned with her feelings for him and his possible feelings for her, she’d been blinded to his true purpose. She had told him of the wealth they possessed to try to entice him to ransom her back to her people, and now he was here to claim it.

She thought back to that night in his tent. How he had speculated out loud that all a man would have to do was take the Teclan mountain and he’d be wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. He had never mentioned it again in her presence, but he must not have believed her when she said it was impossible. This was all her fault. She’d given information to the enemy, and now her people would suffer for it.

“It doesn’t matter why there are more of them here,” Lothor shouted. “They could bring thousands, and thousands would die. We have nothing to fear. We should be thankful. Now we can kill them all and finally have our vengeance.” Lothor paused, then continued, his voice slightly quieter, but still tight with excitement. “I have prayed for this. It is a gift from the gods. Not only will we not have to wait to avenge Ruga’s death, but those directly responsible have delivered themselves to us and prepare to attack on our terms. It could not be better. The gods truly smile upon us.”

“Yes,” Meln agreed, though not with the same conviction.

“Of what do you worry?” Lothor was clearly puzzled and concerned at his father’s lack of enthusiasm. “Why do you not give the order to attack?” he demanded. “Now, before they change their mind and leave?”

The fact that Lothor was unable to keep his disapproval in check, and openly questioned their father, revealed the depth of the discord that still smoldered inside him. Nena knew from his heated words with her before, that even though he had the highest respect for their father’s battle insight and authority, he was very troubled by the change in him since his injuries. The change she had also noticed on her first day back. When the flame of that doubt was fanned by his deep, almost desperate desire for revenge, Nena feared what Lothor might do. For him to challenge her father now to lead the tribe, would tear it apart and leave them all weak and vulnerable. He had to know that.

But her father wasn’t the only one who had changed; Lothor wasn’t the same either. He himself recognized he was dangerously consumed by his hatred. By