Erik opened the door to his cell, walking out into the main room. It was quiet down the hall, so he made his way to the toilets, cleaning himself up as best he could. There were buckets of clean water, and with no other place to put the wool, he tossed it down the hole in the seat. A few pads of wool gone, he didn’t hear anything resembling rising water so he breathed a sigh of relief, happy not to have flooded the hall as there was a fair chance it was run down toward the cells.
He stood in the small stone closet for a minute, gathering his nerves. He’d decided that he was going to see what would happen if he walked casually down the other hallway leading from the fork. They’d brought Tove to him so it was possible he might be able to go and see her. She was being punished for helping him, but they hadn’t tried to stop him from leaving.
Erik went to the fork, looking down it. The guards looked at him, not laughing as they had done the day before. They were thirty yards from him at least, but when he took a step down the hallway, they backed up, pulling their swords immediately. Yesterday they’d laughed at him. He took another step down the hall.
“You ain’t allowed down here, einherjar. We’ll die if we have to.” The guard who spoke had a look somewhere between panic and fury.
All Erik could think, over and over, was that they’d laughed at him before. It was what he’d expected of them in a way, but the trembling of the guard’s voice was odd. And it was the first time he’d been called einherjar by anyone. What had changed? Was it that he’d tried to flee? Haki must have done it dozens or hundreds of times.
He turned around and headed up the hall to the administrative area. There was only one guard sitting at the desk, a thin, tall man who jumped when Erik came into the room. The man said nothing, only watched Erik until he decided to return to his cell.
He heard the telltale signs of Ásví’s procession coming down the hall before an hour had passed. Haki didn’t bother rising to call out to her like he had last time. The doors opened and a guard came in, leaving a mattress sized for Erik’s wooden bed on the floor before leaving. The columns formed beside the door and Ásví walked in, wearing a loose, shimmering blue dress.
She clapped and a chair was brought in behind her. She sat in it crossing her legs and the guard who had brought it scurried back out into the main room.
“Close the door.”
There was hesitation at her order, but it was done and eyes peered in from the outside, watching him intently.
“Ignore them,” she said, shifting her weight in the chair. “You’re talking with me. And it would be rude of you to ignore a guest bearing such gifts.” She waved a hand toward the mattress. “Now, before you start asking inane questions about the farm girl you dragged here, I will make my point. You’ve impressed me, Haki Erik Styrsson.” She looked down at her dress and picked at a small piece of lint. “Or, should I admit, I had underestimated you.”
She looked at him, expectant, but Erik shook his head, not understanding.
“The wall guards saw your fight.” She drew in a breath and then sighed. “The rumors spread well through the keep before a formal report came to me. Parts of it I simply won’t believe. They say you broke the arm of a valkyrie.” She scoffed. “It’s preposterous. But then, they are excitable men. But there were parts I cannot ignore. The damage to the street. The blood you drew from the mouth and nose of one you managed to strike.” She leaned forward, pushing her breasts together and smiling at Erik. “I had them describe it to me. And I should thank you.” She leaned back. “I’ve not felt so excited in as long as I can remember.”
Erik stood, ready to shout, but Ásví held up a finger and he stopped though he wasn’t sure why.
“I will make this clear before you begin your protests, I have no will to see Odin lack for his einherjar. The glory of the gods is the glory of us all. You understand that, I trust.” She stood up, walking toward him. “I can do things for you to make the struggle to free yourself from the valkyries outside less uncomfortable. So long as you entertain me.”
“And how am I supposed to entertain you? Dance?”
She laughed, grabbing the hand that had been shredded. “In a way, yes.” She rubbed her thumbs around the meat of his palm and then put his hand to her face. “I want to see you struggle.” She smiled, but it was a dark expression, full of malice.
Erik ripped his hand away from her. “Tove—”
She threw her hands up, spinning away, walking back to her chair. “Again with the girl. She is not yours and if she were, her punishment is not complete.”
“And why does she have to be punished? Some part of your covenant?”
Ásví sat back down. “No. Those laws are my own. Those who bring comfort to the chosen are inviting destruction on my city.”
“Your husband’s city, you mean.”
She shot up from the chair, shrieking, “My city!” She calmed herself, brushing her dress into place, and walked over to Erik. She slapped him across the face as hard as she could manage, drawing blood as an overturned ring tore across his cheek. She took a deep breath. “This does not need to be our relationship, Haki Erik
