“Any chieftain would be privileged to have such a loyal wolf as you at her side,” Jaspar says. “Or his side.” My eyes narrow, and he smiles. “I simply meant that you were just as loyal to Lars.”
I swallow the lump in my throat at the sudden, unbidden memory of Lars roaring with laughter after I spit Sander’s earlobe at his feet. I had never in my entire life felt as mighty or fierce as when Lars looked at me with respect. “Of course I was. And you should have been too. He was your uncle.”
“I would have been loyal to the end, if I hadn’t been forced to choose.”
“That’s what loyalty is, you dunce. A choice.” The flames flare, and I turn away quickly, my heart pounding with terror as I see them start to reach for Jaspar.
He jumps in front of me. “Don’t walk away. Ansa, you can’t fault me for following my conscience. I believe my father when he says he never intended to assassinate his brother. I would stake my life on it.”
I blow a long, cool breath from between my lips, trying to slow my heart. “That is comforting,” I whisper. And confusing. “But you can’t fault me for not trusting you.”
“I trust you.”
When I open my eyes, he’s only a foot away. “You shouldn’t.”
His smile is sad. “I can’t help it. I always have. You’re not a schemer. You wear your emotions like a cloak. You laugh when you’re happy and attack when you’re angry. I always know where I stand.”
“Don’t pretend like you know me. A lot has happened since you left.”
“Clearly.” He glances over at Thyra, who is trudging toward us slowly, carrying a full waterskin and pretending she’s not watching our every move. “Has she earned the loyalty you give her?”
I draw a dagger. “Are you suggesting she’s not worthy?”
“I’m suggesting you are.” He takes my wrist and guides my blade to the side of his neck. “Your loyalty should be rewarded with trust, Ansa. Pure, unwavering trust in return for your pure, unwavering devotion.”
“Thyra does trust me.”
“Does she?”
I do my best to hide the twinge of uncertainty that pricks in my mind. Jaspar’s hand slides up to mine, and he squeezes my fingers as I watch my blade dent his skin. If I pressed, he would bleed. “Such devotion,” he whispers. “I can see it in your eyes. A chieftain dreams of such a wolf, and here you are.” He releases my hand, and I carefully pull the dagger away from his flesh, painfully conscious of my own unsteadiness.
“Ansa,” Thyra calls out lightly as she returns to our side. “As much as I would sympathize, try not to kill my cousin before we reach our destination.”
Jaspar bows his head, hiding a grin. “Ah, but who could blame her,” he says good-naturedly, looking around at the other warriors who have gathered to share the warmth of the fire. “My own father threatens to murder me on a daily basis.”
“Aye, but you earn that with your mischief!” says one of his warriors with a laugh. The woman has her long hair pulled back tightly and coiled at the back of her head. Her right middle finger bears numerous kill marks, which means she’s already started on her left arm.
Jaspar dodges as she tosses a burning wood chip at him. “Yes, Carina, but—”
“There you are!” comes a broken voice, harsh with rage. We all turn to see Gry stalking up the trail toward our fire. Her finger is raised, a spear of accusation.
She’s jabbing it at my chest, and I feel each thrust.
“Gry, what’s wrong?” asks Thyra, rushing forward.
“I demand compensation,” Gry shrieks. Her face is red, and her blond hair has pulled loose from its braid and hangs in pathetic strings around her face.
Thyra takes her by the shoulders and gives her a gentle shake. “What are you talking about?”
Gry leans around Thyra, and her eyes bore into mine. “I know what you did.”
My hard biscuit has turned to stone in my stomach. “Then maybe you could share, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Thyra looks troubled as she releases Gry, and stays next to her as she approaches me and Jaspar. “I was depending on Hulda to help me now that I’ve lost Cyrill,” Gry says in a choked voice.
“Gry,” Thyra says. “Tell us what’s happened.”
Gry turns to her. “Hulda didn’t return from gathering kindling. I went to look for her.” She glowers at me. “And I found her in the woods.”
“Dead, I assume?” Jaspar asks. The other warriors around the fire are staring at us with rapt attention.
I wish I could melt into the ground like frost under the sun, but instead I’m frozen where I stand. I push the memory of Hulda’s eyes out of my head as Gry nods.
“And you think I had something to do with it?” I ask, hating the shake in my voice.
“You asked where she was this morning!”
I force a laugh, sharp and high. “I merely wondered why she wasn’t in the shelter, helping you prepare for the journey!”