Before she could rise, another man broke from the trees heading directly for Annikke. He ran half crouched, holding his dagger low like an experienced fighter. At the last possible moment Annikke rolled away. The warrior followed. He only needed one step to reach her.
“
No!
” Suddenly Benoia was there, screeching, and hanging off the man’s neck.
Aren expected the man to fling Benoia aside, or slice himself free of her grasp. Instead he gurgled, his eyes rolled back, and he toppled forward onto Annikke.
Benoia pulled and Annikke pushed, struggling the large man off of her. Annikke rose to hands and knees, then crawled to Aren’s side. A second later she’d used the knife Aren’s attacker had dropped to cut open Aren’s trouser leg. She peeled the blood-soaked cloth back from his wound. He couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed as she examined his damaged flesh.
“No. Oh, no,” she cried softly as she leaned into his wound with both hands.
Not the words a man wanted to hear the first time a woman beheld his naked self. Yet they only confirmed Aren’s suspicion.
“Is it a mortal wound, or will I merely lose the leg?” he grated out as pain tore through his body.
Annikke didn’t look at him. “You won’t lose the leg.”
He was going to die, then. This was not the fate he’d imagined for himself, but at least he’d fallen in combat. It was an honorable end, not like his father’s, but Tandra would still be fatherless.
“Benoia, help me!” Annikke pressed harder against his groin and the agony of it tore a scream from his throat. He would have preferred to pass out, but the gods were not so generous. Warmth spread out from where Annikke was touching him, and he prayed to Thor that he hadn’t pissed himself.
Movement drew his eye. Another archer had drawn his bow, his shaft aimed at Annikke, or possibly Benoia. Before Aren could shout a warning, the arrow flew.
“No!”
But Annikke’s chest didn’t sprout an arrowhead. Another shaft knocked the first from its path, and buried itself deeply in the trunk of a tree.
Oblivious, Annikke murmured words in a musical language, while Benoia, pale and shaking, stood behind her, gripping Annikke’s shoulders as she put pressure on the slice in his flesh. The warmth in his groin spread throughout his body. Aren’s pain throbbed in time with his speeding heart, gradually subsiding to a monstrous ache.
Aren wasn’t sure if minutes or only seconds had passed when Annikke sat back on her heels, dropping her blood drenched hands into her lap. She blinked for a moment as though she couldn’t quite focus.
Norva spoke from behind him. “Gods, that’s a lot of blood! Will he live?”
Aren sat up and wrapped Annikke’s fingers in his own. “Are you all right?”
Annikke took a moment before she came back to herself, then her gaze met his. “How do you feel?”
“I asked you first,” he countered with half a grin, then he sobered. “I find myself unexpectedly alive, thanks to you.”
“Good,” Annikke said with a nod.
Behind her, Benoia plopped down gracelessly, wrapping her arms around herself as if she were cold.
Annikke slipped out of her pack’s straps and helped Benoia to do the same before finding her cloak and draping it over the younger woman’s shoulders. “Norva, would you build a fire? We won’t be continuing today.”
“Wait,” Aren protested, starting to get to his feet. “We shouldn’t stay here. How many of them were there, anyway?”
Norva easily pushed him back down with a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. If the Healer says you need to stay put, that’s what we’re going to do.”
Vali came into view. “I count four dead, plus this one tied up by the weeds. Three arrow shot and one, well, I don’t know what happened to him. ”
Aren jerked his head up, looking for the archer whose arrow had been deflected in mid-flight. The woods were empty. “One of them got away. An archer.” He pointed. “He shot from over there.”
Norva nodded and trotted over to the spot where the man had taken aim. Then she disappeared into the trees.
“I’ll build the fire,” Vali said, and suited action to words.
Annikke sat next to Benoia and cuddled the shivering woman close.
“Is she all right?” Aren asked.
“She always gets the shakes after, a, uh, healing.”
“But not you?”
Annikke shook her head. “No. I’m fine. Just tired.” She looked where Aren had pointed, then followed the probable trajectory back to Aren. “Why isn’t one of us dead?”
Norva reappeared and said, “Maybe his shot went wide. When I last saw him, he was running for his life. Something scared the piss out of him.”
“That’s what scared him.” Aren indicated the arrow buried deeply in a tree to his left. “He saw the archer that let fly that shaft.” The arrow, what stood out from the trunk, was smooth and straight, and fletched with purple feathers striped with gold. He’d seen that fletching before, when Torlon had saved his life with another impossible shot.
“Elves!” Annikke said.
“What?” Norva exclaimed.
Aren lifted his brows. He shouldn’t be surprised that she recognized the fletching. It was fairly obvious that Torlon’s brother, Gaelon, was the Elf she’d once encountered. Why else would he concern himself with her welfare? Actually, why
would
he? Aren shook his head. That was a question not likely to ever be answered.
Vali’s head came up as he brought the small fire to flame. His expression was alight with interest. “Elves?”
Annikke stood and shouted, “Come out! Show yourselves!” Her voice shook with anger. “Stop skulking in the shadows!”
“Whoa! Whoa!” Norva put a hand lightly over Annikke’s mouth. “If there
are
Elves lurking, and I’d guess you would know, let them stay hidden! I don’t want to return Lord Vali to his mother Fey-marked.”
Annikke swept Norva’s hand aside, and the Daughter of Freya tried to put a restraining hand on Annikke’s arm.
Norva wasn’t being rough, but Aren didn’t like her trying to force her will on Annikke. “Let her be,” he commanded. “Not every encounter with the Elves results in Fey-marking.”
Norva, Vali, Benoia, and Annikke all turned wide eyes on him.
Frigga’s fanny
. Now he’d stepped in it. “No harm will come to Vali. Not from these Elves.”
“You seem rather sure of that,” Norva said.
“He’s right,” a voice said from the shadows. A moment later Gaelon and Torlon emerged from the forest’s shadows. “We mean none of you any harm.”
Annikke glared, meeting Gaelon’s gaze. It had been five years since she’d last seen him. Five years since he’d said he’d leave her in peace.
“Hello, Annikke.” He hadn’t changed a whit. He still appeared to be the same careless youth who had stolen her so many years ago. He came closer, moving with such grace that he seemed to hardly touch the ground, and reached out to touch Benoia.
Annikke put out a hand to stop him, and Gaelon paused. “The magic is warring with her Talent. Let me help her.”
Annikke hesitated, then nodded.
Gaelon laid his hand on Benoia’s head and murmured briefly in that beautiful language that stirred a whisper of longing in Annikke’s breast and made her heart clutch with fear. It wasn’t healthy to hunger after something so
other
. She almost wished they hadn’t given back her memories five years ago. She’d seen great beauty while among the Elves, but she did
not
want to return to live with them.
Benoia stopped shaking, and looked up with a steady gaze as the Elf stepped back. “Thank you,” she said.
Gaelon smiled. “You’re most welcome. You should be able to use the healing magic now without it harming you. But little one, you must be wary. It wasn’t meant to harm.”
“The first time it just happened. But even if I could have stopped it, what else could I have done? Should I have let him—”
“No. Never that,” Gaelon said. “You have done harm thus far only in great need, but each time you do, it will grow easier. Use the magic to harm often, and it will eat your soul.”
Tears welled and cascaded down Benoia’s cheeks. “I know. I felt it.” She inhaled a shuddering breath. “A part of me liked it,” she whispered.
The Elf nodded solemnly. “You’re strong. But be very, very careful from now on.”
Annikke knelt and pulled Benoia into a hug. “Oh, sweetling.”
“Are we forgiven?” Gaelon asked.
Annikke looked up into the Elf’s face and sighed. Had she thought him unchanged from their first encounter? She’d been wrong. “For saving my life? For healing Benoia? Yes. I’m not so bitter I’d cast blame on you for that.”
Gaelon’s expression brightened. “Excellent! Thank you.”
“Now that
that’s
settled,” the other Elf said, “will you introduce us to your other companions?”
“No!” Norva said.
“Yes,” said Vali.
Annikke glanced from the Daughter of Freya to the young lord. She understood Norva’s fear and her desire to keep Vali safe, but it was too late for that, now. “Lord Vali, may I present to you Gaelon and—I don’t know your name, sir,” she said to the other Elf.
The Fey half-bowed over a hand spread on his breast. “Torlon. A pleasure to meet you, Lord Vali.”
Vali contained his excitement enough to bow the same amount in return. “I’m honored to meet representatives of our hosts here in Alfheim. Thank you for your hospitality.”
Torlon, whom Annikke thought was the elder of the two, bowed again at Vali’s courtesy.
Norva said nothing when she was introduced. She made a slight choking noise, and barely nodded her acknowledgement.
“And this is Aren. He’s escorting me and Benoia to Quartzholm.”
“We meet again, Aren.”
He’s had dealing with the Elves before?
She’d suspected so from his earlier words, but he’d said nothing of it. Most people wouldn’t, of course. But that didn’t stop her from feeling slighted. He knew about her, after all.
Aren glanced quickly at Annikke as if to gage her reaction. Was that a glimmer of guilt in his eye? Then he inclined his head to Torlon.
“Welcome. Once again I am indebted to you for your prowess with the bow. What price will you ask of me this time?”
“Nonsense. There is no debt. I had no other target worthy of my skill,” Torlon said with a slight smile playing about the corners of his mouth. “Or permitted to me, for that matter.”
Aren sighed. “As you say.”
Torlon’s smile widened. “Indeed.”
“And the archer who provided your target?” Aren asked. “Will he trouble us again, do you think?”
“Unlikely. He seemed disinclined to make our acquaintance.”
Aren nodded. “Good. Let’s hope he continues to feel that way. It’s just as well you don’t desire payment for another debt; I’ve done a poor job of paying the last one.”
Torlon’s smile faded and he glanced at Annikke. His close perusal of her made her want to squirm, but she held still and lifted her chin.
“What debt?” she asked.
“How so?” Torlon asked at the same time. “Annikke is alive and seems well.”
“No thanks to me,” Aren answered. “Norva and her companions saved her the first time these Loki’s Snot came calling. You saved her this time.”
Keeping me safe was payment for a debt to the Elves? Why? And how does that fit with his duty to the Jarl?
“That’s true,” Gaelon said. “It
was
your shot that saved her, Torlon. His debt remains unpaid.”
“No, it doesn’t!” Annikke objected. Whatever his faults, Aren shouldn’t be tied to the Elves. No one should. “He was hunting at
my
request when those men came two days ago. Vali’s in Emergence and needed food. Aren couldn’t know we’d be in danger while he was gone. And he
did
save my life just now. He saw the archer before his first arrow flew and pulled me out of the way.”
“And then, because you were busy saving my life, you and Benoia exposed yourselves to more danger!” Aren lifted his hands and raised his voice.
“Why are you diminishing your role in this?” Annikke shouted back. “If you hadn’t spotted him, that bowman would have taken us unawares.”
“Enough,” Torlon said, a smirk twisting the corner of his mouth. “Annikke’s need for protection still exists and you’re yet a day from Quartzholm. There is ample opportunity for you to satisfy your debt.”
“And why, exactly, do you want him to protect me?” Annikke demanded.
“Because he wouldn’t go home and let us do it,” Gaelon said.
“That’s not an answer,” Annikke snapped. Had the Elves always been so slippery with their explanations? “Why would you want to? Our dealings are done. You paid your debt to me five years ago.”
Gaelon looked at Torlon who lifted a brow. “The payment of my debt to you has brought you yet more grief.”
Torlon nodded. “His debt to you is greater today than it was five summers ago.”
“That’s nonsense!” Annikke said.
“You’d be happier if Sveyn had raped me because I couldn’t defend myself?” Benoia demanded sharply.
“At least his injury wouldn’t be on our heads,” Torlon answered.
Benoia took a swift step forward and slapped the Elf. “It’s not on
your
head you smug, self-involved little weasel! It’s on mine!
I
shriveled Sveyn’s miserable little cock. You can run back to wherever you came from with a clear conscience. It’s
my
fault that Annikke has been driven from her home.”