Amber Curse

by TSValing

In a time of gods and giants, there was no escaping the fate woven by the Norns. A young woman with a mysterious heritage flees an oppressive Jarl, only to find herself in the possession of another. But is the Berserker truly as cruel as the man she's hiding from? Rated for violence, gore, and sexual content. Kid x Nami. One-sided Arlong x Nami.

29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece or the characters, they belong to Eiichiro Oda.

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Pieces on the Board

Kid hissed as she tugged at one of his shackles. The metal grazed the sore flesh and festered wound on his wrist. He was too exhausted to strike her. If he dared to raise a hand to Earl Bonney she would have him back in the cave for another nine days of misery and starvation.

She thought nine was a poetic number for one of Odin's men. The twisting knot of hunger ruined his ability to share in her amusement. He would have wrung her neck again for the glint of mirth in her eyes when she finally bothered to free him, but it had been a struggle to lift his head to glare as his men gathered him up and carried him to the hall.

He spent three nights in the hall, too feverish to sate his hunger with real food. Broth was all he could keep down the first night before he succumbed to fatigue and drifted into his dreams of amber and sunlit fields and heavy chains.

What would you give for her?

That question continued to echo in his mind for days on end. He had already sworn to give her everything he had. His home. His treasure. His very life. What more did he have to give to have her? What did he have that would satisfy the gods? What would get them to cease meddling in their lives and leave them in peace?

Bonney had finally had enough of him by the time his fever broke and was set to pack him off to Drafn. His ship was loaded with meager rations, what little gold he brought taken as payment for the food and the mercy the earl had shown him. She did not even bother to inform him of the eviction. She came into his room late in the morning and began to pack his belongings while she threw fresh clothes at him and ordered him to take a bath so his stench would not make his men sick.

Once he was bathed and her healer replaced the bandages on his wrists and arms, Bonney appeared with new fetters he was less than enthusiastic to see.

"Knowing you as I do," she explained, "you will hijack your own ship and rampage through Svealand to take Arlong's head before you even know what has occurred in Drafn. I am saving your men from the trouble of drowning you to stop you from giving in to idiocy."

She really was fortunate he was too weak to punch her. She may be a friend, but she was not close enough to get away with insulting him so brazenly.

"Fuck you, bitch," he managed to mutter. That response was likely why she fussed with his shackles so urgently. She took a sick amount of pleasure seeing him in pain.

Another tug nearly made him yelp as fire coursed up his arm. "Stop fussing, woman," he growled.

"You nearly shattered your shackles in the cave," Bonney said with one more jerk of a chain. "I'm just ensuring you won't do it on the ship."

Even if he wanted to, he could not dredge up the strength to break the thick iron. He just wanted to go home and see that the dreams were just that – dreams. He wanted to see Drafn standing strong with Nami's beautiful smile waiting to greet him. He could already imagine how she would pout and rebuke him when he arrived in fetters. She would give him an earful, but spend the whole night tending to his wounds and easing his exhausted rage.

He would give anything to hear her voice again, even if he had to sit through a lecture. He would give anything to feel her soothing touch and taste her sweet kisses.

His heart knew it was futile to hold to such hope, but he desperately wanted to believe his dreams were wrong.

Bonney jerked at the chain wrapped around his waist and he groaned as it cut into the bruises on his side. The shackles on his wrists were hidden beneath the sleeves of his tunic; the chains led behind his back so that his cloak would cover them, and then connected to the chain at his waist awkwardly secured beneath his leather belt. When he walked, the chains rattled, but the villagers should not suspect much as he passed by. Fur and leather muffled the noise, and the shouts of sailors and traders would further drown it out. It was a ruse to keep his standing among those that did not know of his outburst. He would leave with the same honors of a normal ally, but still in fetters to keep him from lashing out again.

"I advised your men to bind you beneath the ship if you become too unruly for them," Bonney said with snide amusement. "Unfortunately, they assured me that they can handle your temper well enough."

"You sure are enjoying this, aren't you?" he mumbled.

"Immensely." Her grin did not last as she pulled his cloak into place to mask his chains. The serious look she wore eased his annoyance with her as she gave his chest a hard pat. "When you know which direction you must go, send word to me. I'll lend you whatever ships and men you need."

He raised his brow at the unsolicited offer.

"I want to meet this lady you would go to war for," she explained with a wry smile. "Any woman that can tame a beast without binding him is a woman I would like to know. And I cannot stand idle with the knowledge that either the mad king or the cruel giant think they have a claim over any woman. You are bad enough, but at least I can kick your ass whenever I want to."

His withering glare was ignored and he was abruptly shoved out the door of her hall.

"You will also be indebted to me until you die," she added. "As will your lady. It wouldn't be very wise to ignore the potential that can come of that."

"Thought you didn't mean to use her," he growled.

"I have no intention of using her." Bonney rolled her eyes. "It would be a mutually beneficial relationship. She would be free to make her own choices in it." She gave his back another hard push to move him toward the docks. "First, I need to understand what sort of woman she is and how she and I can aid each other. Before I can do that, you need to return home and learn all that transpired while you were tied up here."

He glowered down at her. "You know, I dislike you very much."

Bonney barked a short laugh and smacked his arm. "Aw, aren't you being a sweet little pup," she teased. "I suspect that's the starvation talking, but I dislike you, too."

"Stop mocking me," he growled. "I will strangle you again."

She brushed off the threat and shoved him toward his waiting crew at the docks. "He's all yours, boys," she called. "Don't let me see his face until he has gotten some sense into that thick skull of his."

Kid snarled at the earl. He had plenty of sense. The gnawing pit of anxiety and the inability to act overshadowed it. If she knew even half of how he felt, she might not be so quick to judge his rash actions. If she knew that creeping fear that all he had was lost, she might keep her mouth shut.

He would have lunged at her if Wire hadn't thought to grab his arm and drag him to the ship. His hands might be chained, but he could silence her mockery by driving his thick skull into her face.

"She is an ally, Jarl," Wire whispered as a reminder. "Do not squander her mercy or generosity."

What generosity? What mercy? She left him chained in a cave for over a week with only enough food and water to keep him teetering at the edge of life and death. She may be an ally, but she had made it clear that she had no qualms with turning her sword on him if she felt it warranted.

He knew he deserved punishment for attacking her, but if she intended to pardon the act, she had no reason to leave him bound, no matter what justifications she claimed to have. The gods had already bound him. Her chains were redundant. He could not act, even though he desperately wanted to.

"Let's go," he grumbled as his men helped him onto the ship. He was too tired to care about Bonney or the chains or anything beyond seeing his home. He resigned himself to sit in helpless despondence until they reached Drafn.

Bonney waved their ship off, but Kid turned his head to ignore her as he slumped onto a war chest. Wire took the steering oar. Halle took command at the prow. Even as the men called their orders and set the pace of their oars, the ship seemed to carry the somber weight it would if the men were silent. Perhaps that was merely his mood reflecting on them as he stared out over the channel and land around it, his mind pondering what he would find in Drafn, but he knew they shared in his unease. The dream he had in Britain had not been wrong, so the dream he had in Hedeby was likely to be as true, only this time he had not left in time to intercept the attack.

Kid dozed off as they sailed through the Kattegat. The gentle roll of the sea beneath the ship and the soft, paced splash of the oars lulled his weary mind. It was for the best that he slept. If he thought too hard about the svear lands they passed, he might try to shatter his chains again and he was too weak to manage it. Amid the creaks and groans of the ship, his dreams carried him over lazy channels beneath a brilliant sun that warmed his flesh. His chains were as tight as they would be in the dreams of the field and he swore the rock remained against his back—a cold, hard contrast to the radiant sun promising peace his heart never knew. The god's question echoed through his mind on a flutter of wind and a rustle of the sail. It would have been a peaceful dream, a respite from his agony, but the chains were a heavy reminder of the burden on his heart and the answers he failed to find.

He opened his eyes to a bleak, grey world and a windless, cold drizzle. The men grunted and groaned as they churned their oars to steer them toward the fjord. He had slept the whole day they traveled through the straits. They were nearly home and that knowledge filled him with icy dread to match the mist blinding them to what lay ahead.

The world around them was too quiet, too still. Too dead. No birds cawed overhead. No gulls. No crows. No falcons. The trees were silent sentinels that lined the jagged coast. No branches snapped beneath a deer's hoof. No howl of a wolf on a hunt. No growl of a bear guarding its den. Even the sea felt lifeless, morose. Only the splash of their oars echoed off the hills around them—once soothing, now ominous.

Kid stood with a rattle of iron chains and peered ahead at the wall of clouds and mist ahead of their ship. The world was grey around them, but up ahead, it was steeped in black of the likes they only saw in the harshest of winters.

"Halle," he called out. "The horn."

Halle had been staring ahead when he gave the command, as awestruck and uneasy as Kid. He shook from his stupor to pull the horn that hung from his belt. They should be close enough for the village to hear the horn, the world was still enough to have the blast carry far. The men paused in their rowing when Halle let out one long blast and they waited with baited breath for a response.

Panic and dread pounded at his chest when no answer came.

"Keep rowing," he shouted. "Call again, Halle. Wire, undo my shackles."

They all jumped at his commanded. The men put all their strength into their oars to push them through the water. Halle made another long blast on his horn. Wire did not argue as he pulled out the key to his shackles and let the chains fall away.

All the energy he had lacked in Hedeby returned in a rush as he paced the length of the ship. It was the same restless energy he had no outlet for, but at least he did not feel on the verge of collapse any more. He rubbed at his sore wrists and cursed under his breath with every call that went unanswered. He feared the worst, that the village was completely decimated in his absence. It felt an eternity had passed before they finally received a single horn blast in return after six attempts.

Kid rushed to the prow to peer out at the swirling mist. He squinted in the hopes he could see through the clouds and find the village whole and well.

That hope passed when the clouds thinned and the veil was lifted. Half the village was gone. All that remained were piles of black ash where homes once stood. The homes that remained did not go unscathed. He could see that many were charred from a distance, or had walls and doors smashed in. The bridge was gone, its remains washed onto the bank of the islet at the river's mouth. The knarrs and longships that had been secured along the river and fjord were gone, either destroyed or stolen, he could not be certain.

He saw no people milling about as they normally would. Only a lone figure stood upon the remaining dock to greet him. A shadow he only recognized by his stocky frame. As they grew closer, he could see the weary frown Axel wore. His shoulders were slumped, his head bowed in defeat. He had one arm in a sling, the other heavily bandaged. At least he was alive, but the ashen pallor of his skin may as well belong to a dead man.

That face told him it was exactly as he feared—Nami was gone. Enel had come for her and crippled his village beyond anything he could ever imagine. How many survived? Axel could not be waiting here alone. There had to be others. It was the only shred of hope he had left.

As soon as the ship was in reach, Kid leaped over the water to land on the dock. His bruised abdomen protested his haste, but he ignored the ache as he sprinted through the village.

"Killer," he called out. He needed to know if his cousin had survived first. He would worry about the others later. If Killer was alive, then he knew all was not lost. "Killer!"

No one answered as he ran past the empty remains of the homes. He was greeted by dark doorways and the lingering scent of ash and death. There were no bodies. That meant there were enough survivors to see to their burials. Others were alive. Somewhere. He had to find them. But first, his cousin.

It did not take long to run to his hall, yet his lungs ached and his throat burned from his shouts. His fatigue and lingering fever would have seen him trip, but he stubbornly kept to his feet as he aimed for the hall that stood black and solemn over the desolate village. He was not so weak to fall into the ashen mud with his home in sight. He dredged up every ounce of strength he had and pushed forward.

"Killer," he hollered as he cleared the steps onto his hall's porch in one leap. The hall was mercifully left standing, but the doors were broken from their hinges and a corner of the roof appeared to have been licked by flames. Someone had saved it from the fire.

He crashed through the entryway and came to a halt. All the air left his lungs at the misery that lay before him.

A fire crackled in the hearth, a sight that would normally bring relief after a journey away from home. But the men gathered around it did not drink their ale with the same cheer, did not greet him with the same enthusiasm. Their eyes were tired and hollow, their heads hung in shame. All around them were their brothers, laying as still as death in their fur beds.

"Jarl Kid," Heat greeted as he stood from the side of a bed where Stig lay prone save for the ragged breaths that made his chest rise and fall.

Kid ignored Heat as he walked further into the hall, taking in every man that fought against their injuries and clung to life. The healer followed him in silence as he searched the room. He heard the other men enter the hall but ignored them as his sights set on a tiny figure huddled into a ball near the corner beside a bed whose occupant had withered blond hair clinging to a sweat soaked forehead.

Sind hugged his legs to his chest and rocked where he sat. Kid heard him mutter in English. A prayer to the Christian God, the only God he knew how to turn to in his grief and fear.

Kid fell to his knees at Killer's side with a low growl. Sind flinched and drew his knees in closer to his chest. His prayers ceased and he quivered. Kid had no mind to comfort the child, he was too concerned with the bandages on Killer's face and arm and side. Red licked over his skin where the bandages did not fully cover him and Kid saw a glimpse of white, blistered flesh on his cousin's neck. The edges of his hair were singed and black, shorter than they were. Killer had been burned, severely as far as Kid could tell. His breaths came in harsh gasps, his face twisted in pain. Kid placed a hand to his cheek and found his skin burned to the touch.

"He has been combating fever the past two days," Heat explained quietly as he kneeled beside him. "His burns are severe, but I have faith he will recover."

Kid nodded in dumb silence. Killer had to recover. His cousin was the strongest man he knew besides himself. He was a fighter to his core. He would fight this pain and come out stronger. He would be at his side in the next battle. He had to be.

"The others?" Kid croaked.

"We lost half of our warriors. Hróarr died while fleeing the village with Nami."

Kid snarled and balled his hand into a fist as his rage began to build. Heat took a deep breath as Kid willed himself to control his anger. He needed to know all that happened in the battle.

"We had attempted to evacuate the village prior to the attack. Nami had felt it was imminent, so we tried to prevent as much loss of life as we could. Enel's army surrounded us on all sides and intercepted those that fled. We lost just over a third of the villagers. Ingrid died fleeing with Nami and the children. The smith was also slain in battle." Kid glanced up when he heard Sind sob and glowered at the boy. "Ingvild has chosen to remain at your home with Gunda to help me care for her."

"What happened to Gunda?" he forced himself to ask.

"She fought hard and slew many that chased after the cart Nami was in, but two of Enel's priests waited at the bridge. She and Axel rushed to protect her when Hróarr fell. One of the priests cut her across the face with his sword. Axel had an arrow shot into his arm while his other was mangled and dislocated by a dog. Nami hindered the priest from killing them before Geir and I rushed in to aid the battle." Heat pursed his lips and sighed. "She has lost part of her nose to the slash and will have a deep scar across cheek and brow, but the wound has been healing well. She has fallen into melancholy, though, and refuses to return to the hall so that I can care for her with the rest. Geir remains at the house with her to stand guard."

"He is well?" Kid asked. Heat nodded in response as Kid began to search the hall to see what survivors remained.

"Nami saved this village from being massacred," Heat continued. "She—"

"She surrendered herself," Kid interrupted. He knew well enough that Nami would do what she could to protect his people. If their escape was cut off by two priests that slew one of her guards and nearly killed two others, he would expect her to surrender. His dreams told him that she had surrendered. He was not happy about it, but he was not surprised.

"Killer did manage to defeat one of Enel's priests," Heat said. "The king did not come away without his own losses."

Kid grunted at the information. That was one less priest they had to be concerned with. He could not be certain how well Killer would recover before he sent his remaining forces to Oslo to take Nami back. Without Killer to fight, his own forces were crippled, but he felt better knowing that Enel was in a similar position.

"Where is Ove?" he asked when he noticed the mercenary not among the injured in the hall. He could not have fallen in battle. He had seen that man walk through a field strewn with bodies, covered in blood and broken arrow shafts, and laugh off his injuries over a cup of ale that night. While Kid claimed his own berserker status, prided himself as an ulfhednar—a wolf—he was driven solely by fury and still felt his wounds later. Ove was a true bear, the embodiment of the berserker legend. Nothing could take him down.

Kid did not miss Heat hesitate in his answer and turned to glare at the healer. "He did not fall. He would not," he growled. Heat bowed his head. "Where is he?"

"He left," Heat whispered. "He slew another of Enel's priests and volunteered to take his place."

Fire coursed through his veins as his temper snapped. "He what?" he shouted. "He left?"

"Jarl—Calm down," Heat urged. "Let me explain."

"Explain?" he hollered as he jumped to his feet. Killer groaned below, but Kid was too incensed to care for his cousin's comfort. This was the last straw. "What is there to explain? My village is all but destroyed. My woman has been taken to gods know where, Tingstad or Oslo or the fucking moon, for all I know. My cousin is laying here in agony. Our militia is crippled. And there's supposed to be some explanation for Ove betraying me?"

Heat appeared ready to interject, but Kid snarled in his face to silence him. "I was prepared to accept the fact Nami left. That fucking witch has been trying to flee this village since I brought her here. I expected that damn woman to run away the first chance she had and I'll make sure to give her a piece of my mind when I see her again. But I did not expect to hear that one of my men walked away from me! Did any of you even try to stop him? Did you try to take that fucking traitor's head?"

The men in the hall could not look him in the eye.

"Kid," Killer hissed, drawing his attention down to his cousin. Killer grimaced as he reached to snag his trousers in a loose grip. His back arched in pain, but he did not let go. "Listen to them—"

"Listen to what?" He jerked away from his cousin. "Listen to their pathetic excuses? Listen to how they not only let my woman walk away from me, but one of our strongest assets in battle?"

"Kid," Killer snapped again, but it was futile.

How dare he take their side? How dare he think to calm him? He gave everything he had in his battle and won, but he did not try to leave. He knew what Kid thought of traitors. He knew what the consequences were.

Rage overtook reason as he stormed from the hall. He would go to Oslo and drag that traitor back to put an axe through his neck. He would find that bastard and kill him for breaking his oath. And he would find Nami. He would slaughter everyone in Oslo if they did not return her to him, and if she was not there, he would turn for Tingstad and decimate that bastard Arlong's army.

He made it to the edge of the beach before he felt the sharp bite of iron chains wrap around his body. He wore no shackles, but he could feel them all the same. The chains coiled around his arms and legs and neck like snakes. They bit into his flesh and heart and he fell to his knees with an agonized shout.

Why could he not leave? Why was he still bound? Why were the gods fucking with his life?

What will you sacrifice?

He would give everything he had for the chains to be broken. He would give his life for the strength to end this agony.

That is not enough, was the answer he received.

How much would he have to give? What more could he give?

"Kid," he heard Killer rasp behind him. He looked up to find his cousin limping between Heat and Wire. He should not be out of his bed. He should be resting, not chasing after him. "Will you listen to me?"

He turned away with a grunt. He could not go anywhere. He may no longer wear the chains Bonney bound him in, but his spirit was restrained by whatever magic the gods cast on him. He could not leave Drafn. Not yet.

Heat and Wire lowered Killer to the ground beside him. Killer hissed and bit back a groan as he placed a hand on Kid's arm.

"I swore an oath to Nami," Killer began between labored breaths. "But I also made an oath to you, and I have not forgotten it."

Kid turned to stare at his cousin as he took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He looked exhausted. He should not push himself to explain anything now. The stubborn fool.

"I swore I would protect Nami in your stead. We all did." Killer opened his eyes and squeezed Kid's arm. "Ove's betrayal…"

---

Oslo

"Will you ever cease your simpering?" Law muttered as he ate his breakfast that morning.

"How am I to eat this?" Nezumi whined from his cage. A bowl of porridge sat in front of him, untouched and growing cold. "You place a spoon at its side as though I have a hand to hold it."

Even as Nezumi wailed in agony, Law could not help but snort in amusement. His captive had been an annoyance the last few days, but at least most of his crying had been done in silence. He stared at the wall and wept to himself day and night, and hardly complained except to mutter "My hands" over and over as he rocked himself. That morning had been the first he made mention of his hunger and Law had been gracious enough to give him a share of his meal.

The spoon was given purposefully.

"Many creatures are capable of feeding themselves and they do not require hands," Law said as he glowered at Nezumi. "Eat like a dog." The suggestion received a sneer of contempt that looked pathetic with the tears that trailed down his face. "This ordeal may humble you, Nezumi. Appreciate the opportunity to observe the world from a different view. It may help you see things you have overlooked."

He stood to splash water into his empty bowl and clean it while Nezumi whined to himself. If he remained in his home that day, he may very well kill the man himself to cease his noisiness.

"Though, I doubt the new perspective will bring change to your loathsome personality," Law added as he tossed his cloak over his shoulders. "But one can always hope. Eat like a dog or starve to death. Those are your only options. Whining about it will only extend your agony."

"Trafalgar," Nezumi called to him as he stepped outside. "I cannot live like this."

Law ignored his plight. The bastard had only himself to blame. He was deluded, believing himself to have any power in this world. His callousness and greed ensured that his life would descend into misery. He was a weak man, and the weak do not have a choice in their own demise.

But Nezumi continued to have a use, as simple as it may be. He would not let the rat die until he had fulfilled his purpose, though he would not sit by and listen to him whine. If he gave in to despair and died, Law would have to rethink his plans. He was confident that he could devise alternate plans, but he would rather not waste his time when he had other things to consider while in Oslo.

Not the least of which being Lady Nami's own schemes, whatever they may be. The shrewd woman might have joined hands with him in her trials, but she had not yet bothered to share all that she intended to do. She might not have fully envisioned the course of action she would have to take until he offered his help, but he knew she had since devised some plot.

Two days earlier he had watched her leave the hall with Conis and McKinley, all three on horseback. A fourth followed at a distance, unseen by the group, which kindled Law's curiosity but he would not sate it until he had a chance to observe them more. When the group returned late in the evening, Law joined Nami for supper and remarked on her cheerful mood. She only hummed and failed to hide her mischievous smile as she savored a cloudberry. She would not tell him what she was up to, but he was determined to find out that day.

He reached the king's hall and found the main reception room empty of Enel's priests and army. Servants cleared the remnants of breakfast from the tables. He hoped he had not missed Nami and snatched a servant woman by the arm.

"Where is the lady this morning?" he asked brusquely.

The woman bowed her head and gestured toward the passageway leading to the back. "She is in one of the old guest rooms. I can lead you to her," she offered.

"Please."

He was curious what she might be doing in the rooms Enel had no use for. The king had left them in the dark to be filled with dust. But now a warm glow seeped from the room to light the dim hall. When the servant waved for him to enter, he found that the dust had been cleared from the tables and shelves. Golden sconces had fresh candles to brighten the room. Benches sat along the wall with clean furs and pillows draped over them. A long table sat in front of the benches. One end was covered in cloth and thread, a new loom set near it where Conis worked. On the other end, close to the corner, Ove sat with his feet propped on the table as he ran a whetstone over an axe. He raised a brow at the traitor's presence, but he would concern himself with that later. He was far more interested in the woman at the center of the table.

Nami hunched over a book with parchment scattered around her. Her whole focus was on the page she scrawled on. She did not even bother to look up at him when he entered. Ove glanced from his axe, glowered at him, and then returned to his sharpening. Conis was the first to greet him as she looked up from the cloth she weaved.

"Corazon," she said, smiling as she turned from the loom. "Do you wish to visit with Lady Nami again today?"

He grunted in response. Nami had not looked up from her book, so he took a moment to observe the other changes to the room. A cabinet was tucked into a corner opposite the table, its doors open to reveal folded cloth and baskets of yarn. He recognized a distaff on one shelf, a set of tablets for weaving on another. A small table sat in a corner opposite of Ove's seat with a basin and pitcher on top. The floor was lined with soft fur rugs, the walls clad with golden tapestries. The room held warmth to it, with a touch of the opulence found in the rest of the king's hall. He found it to be more inviting than Enel's abundance of gold in the reception room.

"I did not think the king had a use for this room," he mused as he made his way to the table. A bench sat across from Nami that he helped himself to.

"He did not, but Nami wanted a space to work in. Satori said the king would not mind if she claimed a guestroom for herself," Conis explained for her lady.

"What is it she is working on?" Law asked, peering over the table to see for himself. He could not make much sense of the lines she drew over the page. It appeared to be a map, but from his angle he could not be certain.

"A map of Oslofjord," Conis answered.

So, she had talents beyond the magic they claimed her to possess? That was interesting. He slid a piece of parchment closer to see a series of sketches coupled with notes in Frankish. He was impressed that she knew cartography, but the knowledge that she could read and write in Frankish, not only speak the language, was remarkable. She was better studied in the language than he anticipated.

Nami snatched the parchment from him before he could examine the notes closer. She sent him a mild glare and set back to work without a word. He shrugged the look off. She was focused on her work, something he could understand. He turned his attention to another sheet of parchment she did not seem to be utilizing at that moment. The sketches there did not seem related to any maps he knew of, and the letters on it were not Frankish. Runes that he could not make sense of were drawn and scratched out and redrawn. He could see frustration on that sheet.

"What are these?" he asked.

Nami still did not answer, but Conis looked away from her work to see what he meant. She squinted at the sheet before turning back to the loom. "Those are runes."

"I gathered as much." He rolled his eyes. "I do not recognize these drawings, though. They are not runes."

"They are runes," she said. "They are runes joined to form sigils."

"Why is she drawing sigils?" he asked.

"I'm not certain. She may mean to guard her work with them. It is common for people to put a mark on what they craft to claim it as theirs and protect it from theft," Conis explained.

"It is magic," Ove added. Nami clucked with her tongue and glared at the other man from the corner of her eye, then set back to work. Ove did not seem to care for her attitude and sneered back. If he had so much contempt for the lady, why was he in the room with her? Why did he follow her so faithfully? "She is a witch. I would guess she means to curse someone with that sigil."

"Why would I curse someone with a sigil?" Nami slammed down the feather she drew with to glare fully at Ove. "Is my existence alone not enough of a curse?"

She received a sneer in answer, and a growl that threatened to start a feud.

"Then what is the sigil for?" Law interjected before the two could bicker. "If it is not a curse."

Nami huffed and gave him her whole attention. "It is as Conis said. It is to mark and protect my maps."

"May I ask why you are drawing a map of Oslofjord?" he asked in Frankish, leaning forward to tap on the parchment in front of her. "Is there a significant purpose to it?"

Nami perched her chin on her hand and smiled at him. Mischief glinted in her eye, just as it had the other night. "I have my reasons," she answered in Frankish.

"You will keep secrets from your brother?" He mimicked her position and expression. She stifled a laugh when she noticed, her smile growing in her mirth. "I thought we had an understanding?"

"We do, but you do not need to know the purpose of my maps," she said. "I will consider telling you their purpose when they are complete and I am able to put them to use."

"You remain in good spirits today," he remarked. "Despite the surly bear in the corner."

She hissed in annoyance. "I don't know why he insisted on joining me in here, but so long as he keeps to his corner and minds his business, I'm not overly concerned about him."

He wondered if she should be, or perhaps she knew more to Ove's purpose in the hall than he thought. Her contempt appeared genuine enough, but Nezumi swore she had a talent for deceit. She may well be acting in her hatred toward the traitor.

But was he truly a traitor? Law needed to know.

Curious, he took Nami's hand in his and pulled it closer. She regarded him with confusion, but did not pull away, even as he ran his fingers over her palm.

"Your hands are stained with ink," he murmured.

"And that is of interest to you because…?"

"How long have you been working on your maps today?" he asked, ignoring her question as he continued to toy with a soft callous on the side of her finger. The skin was red and dented where she held the quill.

"Since before dawn," she answered, her eyes narrowed on him.

He paid no mind to her suspicion as he glanced toward Ove to see the man staring hard at him. He had paused in his work to sneer, but as soon as he noticed Law's gaze, he set back to his sharpening with a contemptuous hiss. That was an intriguing reaction.

His attention turned back to Nami when he felt her fingers curl around his. She leaned over the table to bring herself closer. He did not miss the way her dress shifted with the position, giving him a glimpse down the garment's low neckline. He suspected that was intentional on her part, so was careful to focus on her playful gaze.

"Are you attempting to flirt with me, brother?" she whispered.

The seductive lilt to her tone urged him to peek at Ove once more. He polished his axe with more force than necessary, but refused to look at them again.

"Of course not," Law whispered back as he slipped his hand from hers. "I was merely concerned with the callous and stains on your hand. You should wrap them to protect your skin if you intend to work them so hard."

Nami hummed in disbelief, but sank back onto her bench. She wore a wry, arrogant smile that made him wonder if she noticed Ove's reactions as he had.

"I assure you, Lady Nami," he began, "I am all too aware of how dangerous it can be to seduce a woman of your heritage. And that is not even taking your supposed curse into account. A woman like you would eat a man for breakfast if you so desired it."

She snorted in amusement, but her posture relaxed to say that she believed him. "Trust me, I have no such desires for any man. Least of all you."

"Not even for the wolf in Drafn?" he asked.

Nami's good humor waned as she turned pensive. Her gaze became distant, but the moment passed quickly and she picked up her quill while she wore a wistful smile. "I suppose I might, but that is not your concern."

"I believe it is," he argued. "If he intends to bring a war here, and I am meant to be an ally to you in that war, it is in my interest to know what your relationship to him is. From what I saw, he is no simple guardian."

She glanced up from her map. "He was courting me," she answered frankly.

"And you were entertaining his suit?" He chuckled.

"Why would that surprise you?" she asked. "You do not know him as I do."

"I might not know him, but he does not seem an adequate husband for a woman like you."

"You hardly know me. How can you judge what sort of man would suit me for a husband?"

"What I do know of you tells me that you are intelligent, thoughtful, and generally kind—when you are not threatening to kill my hostage or treating me with contempt," he explained. "Jarl Eustass strikes me as a brute. An animal. War and cruelty are all he knows. He makes for an adequate guardian and protector for a woman of such noble birth, but not a husband."

"Our ways are different in the north," she huffed. "And you still do not know him as I do."

"Then enlighten me as to how he is different. Why is he so important to you?"

Nami sighed and turned back to her work. He thought she meant to ignore his queries, but after she began to draw another line on her map, she answered with a tone so soft, he could not deny that her words were heartfelt. "He is a brute, but he has the heart of a skald," she said as a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "He makes me feel safe and treasured. He seeks to lift me up with him, not use me for a stepping stone. I can depend on him to be there when I most need him, to share my burdens, to hold my hand when I grieve." She laughed. "And he is a jarl. What woman would not desire to marry a man with status?"

"But now you reside in the hall of a king who vows to make you a queen. Will you turn your sights to him?"

She peeked at him with a grin. "I do love his hall and gold," she admitted. "I have always desired this sort of wealth. It is hard to dismiss. Everything I could ever want is at my fingertips, and if it is not, my new lord would not hesitate to conquer whatever land necessary to attain what I wish to possess. A woman would be a fool not to desire such a capable man."

"You would turn your back on your lover for gold?" he asked, unconvinced.

"Did Nezumi not tell you that that is just the sort of woman I am? I only care about myself and gold. Everything and everyone else is disposable," she said. He still did not believe her, not with the fire in her eyes belying the stoic mask she wore. "Jarl Eustass cannot provide what King Enel can. I stand to gain far more in the king's care than I could with the jarl. I will not hesitate in taking full advantage of that."

"So, you will throw yourself at the king without any remorse?"

"None whatsoever." She shrugged.

"Do you believe he would respond as you desire? I thought he had no intention of marrying you?"

"And I have no intention of marrying him, but he is still a man, and men are simple when it comes to their pride." Her tone was cold and dismissive as she drew. "Enel is no different, though is far more arrogant than others I have met. If I smile wide enough, compliment and praise his glorious existence, and perhaps kiss him while declaring my unworthiness, Enel will soften to me and not question my intentions. I will do anything I must to grab hold of the future I desire. No rules of propriety or honesty will stand in my way."

She had a plan in mind, even if it was merely a seed. The map she earnestly worked on, the room she claimed as her own, even whatever Conis weaved on her loom—they all had a purpose.

"Was my gift of that rat's hands all it took to help you find your spirit and resolve?" he asked. "You seem more determined than you were before, more confident in your choices."

"I was already determined," she answered with a blithe wave of her hand. "I was directionless and uncertain how to achieve success, but I knew that I had to do something. It was a little bird that told me what I needed to hear, and it was your gift that helped me see why he led you to me."

"You mean to take advantage of me, too?"

"Of course." She gave him a sly glance. "For as long as you are useful to me, that is."

"Ah, then you will discard me like all the rest." He feigned insult. "You are a heartless woman, Lady Nami."

"The cruelest," she quipped as she set back to work. "Now leave me alone. I do not have much time to finish this before the king returns."

Law left her to work in peace, but remained in the room to watch. He would trust that she knew what she was doing and would call on him when she had a need for his aid. In the meantime, he would observe her and the people around her, most of all the traitor in her midst that did not seem to be as unfaithful as he hoped to portray.

The morning and afternoon passed with Nami focused on her map. He recognized the main bay just down the slope from the king's hall and the peninsula his own home sat on. She drew what appeared to be a valley toward the east and a ship within it for the king's shipyard. She marked farms to the west and north, a grove of oak trees, the rough terrain on some surrounding hills. Further into the fjord, she drew other islands and peninsulas she passed on her way to Oslo, and marked each with neat, Frankish script.

She did not have to tell him what the map was for as he saw it come together. Everything she drew and emphasized would be important tactical information in the coming war. Ideal places for a fleet of ships to hide, positions that would grant forces the high ground if they invaded by land. When she was nearly done, he could see that she was not happy with it, though she should be. It was exactly what a military commander would need, but she tapped on the parchment and glowered as though something were amiss in her work. As best he could tell, it was as accurate a map as any he had seen.

He would have asked what bothered her, but a throat cleared from the door to interrupt them. He turned to find McKinley with his back rigid and hard gaze set on the newest priest.

"Satori needs your aid at the shipyard," McKinley called to Ove.

The bear had spent the whole day in his corner, lounging with a pitcher of ale. He had finished sharpening and polishing his weapons long before, yet refused to leave and did not appear to be in a hurry to move even with McKinley's summons.

"He does not," Ove grunted as he gouged a mark into his end of the table with a knife.

"A large number of slaves have fled. He and his brothers have found most, but three continue to allude him," McKinley insisted. "I sent as many of my militia-men as I could spare, but we are tasked to remain in the village to maintain order."

"And Satori was tasked to keep those slaves at work in the shipyard," Ove argued, his tone low and apathetic. "I believe he and his brothers intended to make a game out of any escape attempts. It is not my place to interfere in their fun."

"Please, you are one of the king's priests—"

"As is Satori," Ove interrupted. "He would not be quick to aid me if our roles were reversed, though I would not be so incompetent as to allow this escape attempt from the start. I suspect he looked the other way on the first few to make them think it safe to flee, all to make this tedious hunt more entertaining."

"If you do not aid him and Enel returns to find his slaves have fled, it will be on your head," McKinley said.

"It will be on Satori's head," Ove pointed out.

Nami released a loud sigh as the argument turned into a cold stand-off, each man glaring at the other. "Ove, you have done absolutely nothing today but sit there and mutter under your breath about me," she snapped. "And carve up a perfectly nice table." She gestured at his knife and returned the growl he sent toward her. "If you did not want to spend your days chasing slaves, you should not have left Drafn."

"It is not your place to give me commands," Ove hissed.

"Then by all means, remain in this room with me and drown yourself in ale. If Enel returns and takes your head or hands for your laziness, I will not shed a tear for the loss," she bit out with unmasked contempt. "In fact, a traitor like you deserves no better end than to die in misery because he wouldn't get off his ass to fetch a slave or two back to their work. You would leave this world as the pathetic cretin you are."

Ove shoved to his feet with a low growl. Law thought he might lunge at Nami, but he merely snatched up his axe and stomped toward the door. Nami sat back with a satisfied huff. She dismissed the angry mercenary as she pulled her sigils toward her and focused on the work she had set aside earlier. She appeared calm and unperturbed, even as Ove pushed McKinley out of his way with a loud snarl.

This was as ideal a situation as any to close in on the bear.

"I will aid in the search," Law said to McKinley as he stood. He nodded to Nami when he caught her regard him with curious bemusement and set off to follow the trail of destruction left in the bear's wake.

A table was turned over in the hall and a servant desperately tried to save a chair that had been tossed into the hearth. It had sent burned embers and fiery shards of wood to scatter around the room. A fur rug smoldered as a servant stamped out the flame that threatened to grow from it. For a man who claimed to hold such contempt for Nami, her words seemed to have cut him deep despite his supposed apathy.

Law held tight to the sword that hung from his belt and hurried after Ove. The mercenary did not seem to take notice of him until he had come alongside him. His expression was twisted with rage, his eyes burned as he glared at the unwelcome company. Law merely grinned.

"My, you make such haste when your lady beckons you to act," Law said with a snide tone. "Did her words insult you so much? Why would you care what she thinks of you? You have not been shy about your disdain for her."

"I have work to do," Ove growled in answer. "If all you mean to do is pester me, then leave before I take my axe to your neck."

Law chuckled as the priest quickened his pace and aimed for a path that wound east toward the valley Enel's shipyard lay. He held his tongue until they were far enough from the village to ensure none would overhear. Ove took another sharp turn to delve into the thick woods once the valley loomed ahead of them. The dark fur he wore blended into the trees. His large, muscular figure could easily be mistaken for a bear if one did not notice his long lavender hair. The long Dane axe he held in his hand was as dangerous as any bear's tooth and claw. Law gripped his sword tighter and prepared for whatever reaction he might be met with at his next words.

"Did you betray your jarl to steal her for yourself? If that is the case, you will have a hard battle to win her favor," Law called ahead to him.

Ove stopped in his tracks and Law stopped behind him. He kept his gaze on the man's wide shoulders and glanced at the hand that tightened around the axe's shaft. A short guffaw surprised him and he nearly lowered his guard, but he tensed the moment Ove's left foot pivoted him around.

Even prepared as he was, he still found his throat intimately close to the freshly sharpened axe blade. His arms trembled as he locked his sword with the inner curve of the axe head. Ove towered in front of him with a dangerously wide grin. A tree sat at his back, as hard and unforgiving as a rock, but at least it helped him stay on his feet as Ove pressed into him with his full weight.

"You just cannot keep your nose from my business," Ove hissed in Frankish. That was not a language Law expected to hear from the mercenary. "Ask another question and I will have to kill you. I do not care if you have offered your hand in brotherhood to her. I will slit your throat before you can put her in danger."

"My questions are enough to put her in danger?" Law strained to ask. He already knew the answer, but he needed to prod for more of the truth. The struggle that played in Ove's eyes showed his anxiety at being found out and Law could not help but grin. "You are not here for yourself. You are here for your jarl."

Ove growled and pushed into him harder. The cold bite of the blade teased his pulse. He felt a nick, but nothing more.

"Does Lady Nami know you did not betray Jarl Eustass?" he asked.

"What do you think?" Ove snarled.

"That her contempt is genuine enough, but I hear she is gifted at deception," Law admitted.

"Her contempt is genuine," Ove whispered. "It must be. If the king's magic is stronger than her own, then my betrayal must be real for him to trust it. In her eyes, I am a traitor and that is what I will remain."

The underlying threat in his words was not lost on Law. "Understood," he said. "I will not let her or the king believe you to be anything but the traitor you are. I will swear it upon the oath I made your lady, if need be."

"You are a trickster in the guise of a friend," Ove grunted, yet still he shoved away from him as though satisfied. "I will not believe your oath to her or anyone. But I will have my axe ready to take your head the moment you prove to be useless."

"Ah, just as Lady Nami, you only mean to use me," he quipped.

"Assuming you do have a use. If she believes you do, then I can only trust her decision," Ove said as he turned away to continue his hunt for the escaped slaves.

The dismissal was clear, but Law still trailed behind him. He felt it safe enough to return his sword to his scabbard, but did not take his hand from the hilt. The mercenary's temper was unpredictable.

"Does she know you speak Frankish?" Law asked as Ove cut through thick underbrush and searched for tracks.

"No," he answered flatly.

"Does your jarl?"

"Yes."

"Then how is it your lady does not? Were you not close to her?"

"I do not make a habit of discussing myself," Ove explained.

"As any good mercenary would take care not to do." Law chuckled. "You are obviously close enough to your jarl and brothers in Drafn to be entrusted with this task, but you are not close enough to the lady in your keep to share something as simple as a second language you share with her?"

"Why would it matter if we both spoke Frankish? There was no need of it in Drafn." Ove glanced back with furrowed brows. "What use is this interrogation of yours? You have learned what you desired, now return to the hall and leave me to my hunt."

"Do not tell me what to do," Law said, "or I will kill you first." Ove snorted, but his grip tightened on his axe in preparation for any attack Law attempted. "I am merely curious why you and your brothers are so dedicated to Lady Nami if you are not that close."

"Why are you dedicated to her?" Ove asked instead. "You have known her for an even shorter time than I, yet you held out your hand to her and swore your allegiance to her and her alone. Did her tears move you? Was I mistaken when I believed no heart beat in your chest? Was the black shadow I glimpsed within you merely my imagination?"

"We are not discussing me," Law growled. "Do not act as though you know anything about me."

Ove chuckled, the sound full of knowing. "I cannot speak for my brothers, they each hold their own reason in their heart. I know Jarl is besotted with her, enchanted by her very existence. His cousin adores her, though he is less inclined to show it. The healer has taken to her as a man would take to a young sibling. The others are infatuated with her in varying degrees. Blinded by her beauty, most were quick to lust for her. Only our jarl's claim tempered their desires until they turned to a genuine fondness and friendship."

"And you? You do not share their lust?"

"I was not born with such desires for women," Ove admitted.

Law thought to question his meaning, but it quickly dawned on him and left him speechless.

"My faith in her is not the same as theirs," Ove continued. "Many men like me would often give themselves to Freyr, but a priestly, peaceful life was not for me and a sacrifice would not have aided my family. They were too poor to own land of their own, so what good would blessings of fertile soil and rich harvests give them? Rage and war came to me easily. If I made enough coin as a mercenary for the richest kings and jarls, then perhaps I could buy my family land and give use to Freyr's blessings. I could join him in Alfheim and be content there as a wife."

"You do not desire to be with Odin as others of your people do?"

"No. If I cannot be welcomed into Freyr's realm, if my rage cannot be quelled by him, then I would be satisfied to be chosen by his sister. I will be deserving of that choice so long as I remain steadfast at the side of Freyja's granddaughter, of that I have no doubt."

Law chuckled, earning a sharp glare from the mercenary. He could not help the amusement. The devotion these men held for their gods and the woman they were entrusted with was unfathomable to him. They were so willing to give their lives for her, all with blind hope that the gods would chose them in death. They could not even be certain of that fate and yet they still strove toward it.

"Do you believe you are strong enough to choose your own death?" Law asked.

Ove paused to tilt his head back and gaze up into the trees. "No man is strong enough to bend the will of the gods. No man will ever be strong enough to choose how and when they die, but they can become strong enough to decide what purpose their death will serve and dictate what tales are told of them once they are gone. The rest is beyond our control."

That was a sentiment he could respect, even if he did not believe in their gods or any other. Death would not heed to any man or woman when their time came, but the strong can determine their purpose in life and death. The man before him had decided what purpose he would serve and that would dictate how death might find him, but he would know no remorse for the choice he made. Nor would his jarl or any others that fought at Lady Nami's side.

Silence sank over them for a time as they trekked through the woods in aimless pursuit of lost slaves. Ove did not seem to put much effort into the task and Law felt no inclination to aid him. Satori was the one who lost them, let him find them.

Ove's sudden chuckle broke the easy silence. "Oh, since we have reached this understanding, let us reach another," he said.

Law hummed in confusion and the mercenary glanced back with a vicious grin.

"If you ever think to lay a hand on my lady again, I will cut it off," he warned. "No man may touch my jarl's woman so informally."

Law snorted. "You do not need to worry about me. I think you will need to concern yourself with the king's interest in her. You heard Nami. She will happily throw herself at him without hesitation."

"As she will do with any man she wants something from," Ove said with another laugh. "I will not interfere in her schemes. She is free to flirt with whomever she desires. I have no power to stop her. But I will not allow any man to believe he can take her for himself."

"And if Enel thinks he can take her?"

"He will answer to my jarl when he comes. In the meantime, all others shall answer to me."

"I sense you take pleasure in threatening to behead men."

"I take pleasure in beheading."

"Then I think you and I will get along remarkably well."

---

Enel was delayed in his return to the hall, just as Nami's runes had led her to believe. She did not mind his absence. She relished the time she was given to prepare all she would need to steer Kid through this course from afar. She knew she did not have much time.

Only days after Enel left, days after she joined hands with Law as her ally, she heard the pained howl of a wolf echo in her mind. She had been in the middle of training with Ove when it came. The momentary trance jolted her from reality and she might have lost a finger or hand if she had not fallen to her knees in her shock. Ove pulled back to watch her shiver but did not ask what had come over her, what had filled her with such fear that she could not stop how her frame trembled.

He tucked his axe away, waved for Conis to gather her up and declared the day's training complete. After that moment, he was a fixture in her daily activities. She would have wondered on his motives if she did not have so much else to be concerned with. Law appeared to have taken a keen interest in the traitor and she decided he could worry about Ove for her.

Kid had returned to Drafn and there was much she still had to prepare for the war he would soon bring. She had a direction, though. She had a plan forming within her mind. She knew what she had to do and had the resources to accomplish it.

When she first walked through Oslo, she had wanted to remain unseen and observe from the shadows. She had not wanted to be associated with the king the villagers obviously despised, but if she was to exert any influence on what was to come, she could not continue to slink about.

Loki was correct to remind her that deception was part of her nature. She lived it for eight long years. She deceived Arlong and the people in Tingstad, made them believe she was a loyal ward to the jarl. She lived as an outsider among people who had once been family. She was shunned, ostracized, treated as a plight upon them. She held her head high and did not let their anger touch her then, and she could do it again in Oslo.

She had to if there would be any hope of moving forward. The painful reminder that Nojiko remained in Tingstad, waiting for her, strengthened her resolve. If she and Kid could not overcome this trial, there would be no freedom for the people she left behind. If Kid was meant to battle Arlong for her freedom, then he would need to find victory in Oslo first. And she would use everything at her disposal to give him that victory.

Enel had given her power in his hall and village, whether he realized it or not. He had elevated her to a rank that made her a target of the people's hatred, but also armored her with the fear they felt for the king that stole the throne with such ease. He may not have given her a crown, not yet, but he said she would be queen and that alone carried enough weight to sway the people as he would. She was the lady of his hall, the one of noble birth, the queen who would reign with his interests in mind.

Exerting that power within his hall was simple, even his priest did not question her desire for a work room, nor her insistence on a loom and distaff and tablets. Utilizing her power outside the hall, among the free people, would not be so easy. They had not masked their suspicions of her when she tried to show them a friendly face, as hunched and fearful as they were. They did not see her as the hostage she was, did not pity her plight. She was a priestess now and she must have been granted that title for a reason. Enel did not make people priests if they were not of use to him, and those people always held an interest in the power of their title. If she were in their positions, she would feel the same, especially when that priestess was declared future queen. No woman would ignore such a title, not when it came with wealth and security. Her timid nature would be viewed as a ruse, she would be considered a snake hidden in the fields, a wolf among their sheep.

So, she shed the guise of unwilling hostage and gave the people the queen they desired to hate. She clad herself in the finest dresses Enel had given her and stepped out with the straight posture of an arrogant noble, stared down her nose at the people, and walked through the village with a cadre of armed guards to ensure their fear of her was genuine. She did not smile, did not show them warmth. She did not show them her fear or her sorrows. She looked forward and took what she needed. They could hate her for it all they wished. She would be the one to herald a war upon them, their hatred was not undeserved.

In two weeks, she had accrued much of what she needed and only for a pittance of the gold in Enel's hoard, but there was still more yet to do before she could make her first move. Her map was complete and she had begun another. The first she had made would remain hidden with her treasures, a bind rune carved into the lid of her jewelry box to deter any from peeking inside, but the second would be left out for Enel to see. He would ask why she desired a workroom of her own and she would not lie, not when Satori or McKinley could undermine it with their knowledge of the work she did. She would impress the king with her map of his territory and Kid's, as well as the western coast of Svealand, stretching down to the Kattegat and Denmark. He already knew the terrain around Drafn, it would not make any difference if Enel had a map of it or not, and she had no qualms showing him where Tingstad and Arlong's territory lay. If she led Enel to believe that the map was for him, he would not question it. She also had plans to craft a map of the route to England and she heard that Enel might have more charts in his chambers that showed routes to Iceland and Greenland. She hoped to borrow those maps to maintain the ruse that she worked for his ambitions, charting a route to the new world he wished to conquer.

She had gathered leather, fine horsehides, strings of amber and gold beads, unspun wool, gilded thread, jeweled brooches and buckles, and every manner of material to craft the mask she desired to wear. She would do as Loki would, shift her appearance to suit Enel's needs, to mimic his grace and arrogance and apathy. She would be exactly what Enel desired in every way she could. She worked on her costume in plain sight, but stole discarded scraps and lost beads and cut thread to hide in her treasure box.

The leather went to a belt, the horsehide to a bodice. The amber and gold were woven into the knotted seams and trim of her newest dress to glint as bright as Enel's hall. The gilded thread was woven into the likeness of a prowling cat upon the back of a new cloak, the lynx fur that belonged to her family cleaned and re-purposed for the new piece. The buckles and brooches would fasten a long-sleeved coat and new fur shawls she commissioned Enel's servants to craft for her.

The leather and hide also went to an old purse she had brought from Drafn. Each night, while Conis slept, Nami sewed each sliver of leather she had by the flicker of a single candle. Her fingers ached come the morning, but the effort was worth it once her work was complete. The patchwork leather was a circle no bigger than her fist and fit along the base of the purse, with a little room to spare.

She still had enough leather to weave a simple bracelet with the extra amber and gold she pilfered. The bracelet was a gift to Conis for her hard work, as well as to keep anyone from questioning what she might have taken the scraps for, should they have noticed. The bracelet would also brand Conis as hers and hopefully protect her from Enel. The handmaid would be the one she entrusted her secrets to when the time came, and she would protect the woman with everything she had.

That day she woke with a list of tasks in mind that still needed to be completed. It was no different than any other day. Even the dreams she woke from were the same. She had been dreaming of Yggdrasil and the wolf bound to its roots every night since the vision showed her what she had only been able to hear. Each dream the wolf grew weaker, but still she could hear him growl and whine and struggle against his chains. Since the howl that reached her in the middle of the day, her dreams showed the wolf struggled less and less. That night he had curled on top of the roots and remained silent for most of the vision. Sometimes she heard a faint growl, lethargic and defeated. Sometimes she heard the chains rattle as he chewed at one wound around his paw. Most of the noises he made were huffs and grunts and whines. He had resigned himself to his bonds, but she knew he would soon try to fight them again.

Loki had sat upon a branch far above her head in those dreams. He had shed his disguise as he lounged against the trunk. His long, fiery hair fluttered in the cold breeze. A hand hung down, limp with sleep or laziness, allowing her to see sharp nails on long, slender fingers. He said nothing to her until that last night as he glimpsed down at the bound wolf.

"He waits faithfully for his salvation," he whispered. "For the one he can hold onto in this storm."

She shot awake knowing what she had to do and did not waste a moment preparing herself. Kid needed salvation. He needed a map, a direction, a plan. He needed a message and she would soon be able to deliver it. He needed hope that soon his chains would be broken.

Nami shook Conis awake and did not wait for her to rise before she stoked the fire in her chambers to fight off the morning's chill. By the time Conis had brought her fresh water to wash her face, Nami had picked her dress for the day and arranged the golden clips she wished to wear in her hair. She dressed in blue the same shade as the king's eyes and had Conis brush out most of her hair so that it fell in waves down her back with a ringlet of braids to sit atop her head as a crown. The glint of gold in the woven locks matched the glimmer of the beads and gilded thread sewn into her dress' bodice and sleeves. A regal appearance to befit the woman Enel meant to crown.

Conis held up a bronze mirror from the Mediterranean that they found within Enel's hoard. It had become routine for Nami to inspect herself in the mirror. She practiced her posture, held her head high, and checked to see that her mask was in place. Her brown eyes looked cold and emotionless, as dark as the earth, without a glimmer of amber or fire. Her lips remained rigid and stoic, the only smile she allowed was a quirk of her lips, a touch of a smirk. Not a hint of the anxiety swirling in her gut showed on her expression. She may as well be carved from stone.

She swept into the hall with her carefully crafted air. Enel's men congregated around the long tables, their attentions fixed on the bowls of porridge and plates of bread and cheese and smoked fish. They spared her a short glance, a nod, and then set back to devouring their meals. Satori was already at his table and did not look up as she took her seat at her table on the opposite side of Enel's dais. Ove walked into the room after her and sat down at her side to eat in silence.

She ignored him. She did not question his presence, his choices, his existence. That morning it was easy to forget he was even there as her mind considered all she wished to do that day.

"Conis," she called once her plate was nearly empty. "I will need a handful of servants to help me tend the rowans in the yard after the meal."

"You wish to tend the trees?" Satori chimed in before Conis could speak. He chuckled quietly and ignored Nami's withering stares. "Why bother with that task? Set the slaves to work on them."

"The rowans are sacred. I can feel Sif within them. I cannot trust a slave to trim their dead branches without damaging her," she stated. "Our king would not be pleased if our ancestor's wife was harmed or insulted. It is important to treat her with care, as well as her trees."

Satori shrugged indifferently. "They are only trees. Enel is the only god here that matters."

"He is only here because of those who came before," she argued before waving him off. "It does not matter. I want to trim them. Even if you do not believe what I say, it is important that the king's hall is well kept, and it is my duty as the lady to see it done properly."

"If you say so." Satori sighed.

"I will gather the servants, then," Conis said as she hastened to finish her meal and see to the task.

A horn bellowed outside and broke into the peace of breakfast. The men stood from their tables, save for Satori who continued to gnaw on a piece of fish with an air of apathy. The men calmed shortly after when no other blast came to warn of an attack. McKinley called for his militia to head outside and see to the source of the signal, assuming it to be an incoming ship or messenger, while the rest of the hall settled back into their meals.

It was not long after when McKinley reappeared with an exhausted man Nami recognized as a servant Enel took with him on his tour of the farms. He did not appear beaten or bruised, only pale and wane, shivering from the morning chill as he took to the fire in the center hearth.

"The king will be returning by this afternoon," McKinley announced. "He sent this man ahead to see that the hall is prepared for him."

"Judging by his servant's appearance, he will need hot food and a warm bath to greet him," Nami said with a sigh. She turned to Conis. "The king's comfort takes priority over my chores. We will not take any servants or slaves for the tasks that need to be done for him. If one or two can be spared, that will be enough, otherwise I will tend the trees on my own if need be."

"I will help," Ove volunteered with a quiet grunt. He ignored her shocked look as he slurped up the last of his porridge. "I have no other chores to see to. Leave the slaves to their work."

She nodded her thanks, unable to say more as she wondered why he would help her at all. It was better than nothing and Ove was strong enough to do the work of ten. He would not question what use she had for the trimmed branches, either. No matter how little she may trust him, he never argued or questioned her need for anything. She needed her workroom, he helped move the furniture for her. She desired armed guards, he was the first to volunteer.

She shook away her thoughts. She could not wonder on his motives, it would only lead her to hope and trust in a man who showed he was all too willing to betray a brother. He was a mercenary. He followed the path of highest value and glory. He may well intend to use her as other men would. Who better to ensure wealth and glory in battle than Freyja's grandchild?

A cold mist settled over the bay that morning with a threat of rain held in the dark clouds that loomed above. Nami donned her new cloak as Conis gathered whatever slaves she could to help with the rowans. Ove waited outside her quarters and followed in her wake as she headed toward the courtyard to see how many hands she would have in this task. Her surly guard was covered in his thick bear pelts and wore a wool cap trimmed with fur to warm his ears, but his cheeks and nose still grew pink from that day's cold.

The day before it had been sunny and pleasant, a promise of warm summer weather. She felt it strange that such dreary weather would fall upon them just as the king was set to return. An ill omen hung in the air. Bleak skies, bleak fate. She tried not to think much of the chill crawling down her spine. Whatever dark clouds hung over her, she would strive forward until she found the sun again.

"We have two men to help," Conis announced once they reached the main path that wound through the central grove.

Nami scrutinized the two slaves. Meager rags hung on thin frames, hardly enough wool in the cloth or meat on their bones to keep them warm. They shivered where they stood. One clung to a ladder they procured for the chore as though that was all that would hold him up.

She glowered at Conis. Her handmaid shrugged and gave her a nervous smile. "They need the heartier men in the shipyard."

"And there were no hearty women?" she asked.

"Some are hauling the water to fill the tub for King Enel, the others are preparing the meal for his return. They must butcher two goats for his favorite stew and he prefers the freshest apples and berries they have. It is much work to do," Conis explained.

Nami sighed. "Then these two will do. It is better than none. At least find them some furs to wear and have the cook set aside some broth and meat as a reward once they are done." Conis nodded and rushed off to find the clothing. Nami turned to smile at Ove. "You will have to do the brunt of the labor, I'm afraid."

He grunted in understanding, did not argue or glare, and moved by her to snatch the ladder from the slave. The other slave held a small, chipped axe and made to offer it to the berserker. Ove glared in distaste at the tool and slid his own axe from his belt. The slave balked at the sharp, polished weapon, scampered back in fear, but Ove continued into the trees without a word.

Nami closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That man's attitude was an annoyance, but he was at least helping.

Once calm, she hurried down the dirt trodden path behind him. The slaves followed her and eventually Conis found them with two heavy pelts draped over her arms for the two men to wear. They sighed in relief the moment the furs were wrapped around their torsos.

"Start with the uppermost branches," Nami ordered, pointing at the first tree. "The ones lacking fruit. Cut them close to the trunk and be mindful of the healthy branches around them. The branches that have a few dead twigs can be ignored. If you can reach the dead pieces, only cut those, but leave the rest. Focus on the larger branches."

Ove grunted, the slaves nodded. The weaker men stayed at the bottom to hold the ladder while Ove climbed. The ladder only reached the bottom boughs, but Ove easily pulled himself up into the higher branches. For a large man, he climbed gracefully, did not panic when the branches and tree bowed under his weight. Once the branches became too thin and weak to hold him safely, Ove planted himself against the trunk and stretched up to reach the branches that needed to be trimmed.

He worked quickly as the tree swayed with every swing of his axe. Two strikes broke one branch free and he let it fall to the ground as he set to work on another branch. The slaves had to jump away as each branch fell, but Nami waved for them to stay close.

"Gather them as they come down," she ordered, stepping closer to inspect the branches Ove sent down. The first was too small, the second too thin, the third too cracked and rotted. "That one," she said as the slaves snatched up the fourth. It was just the right size. The base cleanly cut with a segment as thick and long as her forearm. "Set it in a separate pile," she commanded. "Any branches that look similar, about that size"—she held up her forearm and wrapped her fingers around it to show the measurement she desired—"set those aside and trim the twigs and bark from them."

With her new directions given, the men inspected and sorted the branches as they came down. When Ove was finished, one man held the ladder to help him climb down and then helped him climb up into the next tree. Nami observed, scrutinized each branch that the slaves had cleaned, and stared up into the boughs Ove balanced on.

Conis brought her a cup of mulled wine as the morning wore on. The servants in the kitchen had prepared a batch with dried berries and apples, sprinkled with spices bought from Muslim traders. It warmed her cheeks and brightened her spirits, even as the mist turned into a light drizzle.

"Ove, stay in the lower branches," she called as the berserker climbed into his tenth tree. Conis held the ladder firm beneath him, leaving the men to work on the branches she needed. The boughs had grown slick with the rain and made climbing difficult. They may have to end the chore early, but she had enough cleaned and trimmed branches, so it wasn't necessary to continue. "If you slip again, we'll finish this another day when the weather is clear."

He waved his axe in answer and set to work on the bare branches in the middle of the tree.

"Ah, cut that branch there," Nami called to the slaves cleaning the dead branches for her. "Right there in the middle. Toss that gnarled half in with the rest. I can't use knotted or gnarled branches like that."

Footsteps splashed through a puddle behind her. She glimpsed over her shoulder to see a man walking toward them, shrouded in black feathers and wool with his head down to shelter his face from the rain.

"What chore are you making these men suffer through in this weather?" Law asked as he neared. She caught a peek of one gold eye and lopsided smirk. "This is miserable weather for gardening."

"Are you here to help them? The task will be done much sooner with extra hands," she teased.

Law snorted and stopped at her side to stare up into the boughs where Ove worked. "My skills lie in cutting limbs from men, not trees."

"Ove's skills are the same," she said in mock seriousness, "and he is doing a splendid job with the trees."

Law glowered down at her. She pouted back. He rolled his eyes and she finally relented with a quiet snicker.

"Fine, if you are not here to help, then what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" she asked with dripping sweetness as she wound her arm through his.

He cocked a brow and pointedly regarded the intimate gesture. When she only held him tighter to steal some of his warmth, he glanced up toward Ove in the trees. "I heard the horn earlier. Thought I would investigate the reason for it."

"It took you this long to come?"

"My captive has been noisy again. I was busy sewing his lips shut," he said, not hint of a jest in his tone. She nearly grimaced at the image, but remembered that it was Nezumi's lips that were sewn and decided it was a satisfying image, even if she would still rather see him dead. "And the rains slowed my trek to the village," Law added. "I saw no new ships in the bay. Did a messenger arrive?"

Nami nodded. "The king is supposed to return by this evening."

"Ah, that would explain the servants' fervor in readying the main hall." He leaned over her shoulder to look into her cup. "And the wine. That would warm a man's bones in this chill."

She could hear the longing in his words and smiled ruefully as she took another sip. "It is delicious."

"And yet you do not offer your brother a cup?"

"Perhaps when the king arrives, he will share with you."

"That is not very hospitable of you," he huffed.

She snickered at his disappointment, but held her cup out for him to take. "Don't throw a fit. I was just teasing you."

He snatched the cup with a gloved hand and downed the last of her wine. "This weather is too miserable to stand your teasing, Lady Nami," Law said flatly. "Now, will you tell me what you are up to making these men suffer in the rain?"

"It is only a chore," Nami insisted. "The trees needed trimming."

His expression said that he did not believe her and urged her to confess her schemes. He had been patiently waiting for her to share more than she had. Perhaps it was finally time to let him in on her whole plot.

"Have you played hnefatafl, Corazon?" she asked in Frankish.

His brows pinched in confusion. "Of course."

"Then we should play some time," she said, smiling brightly at him. It was the most she had smiled in days, though it was no more genuine than her others. It drew a curious look from Law, but she ignored it as she watched the men working on her branches. "I'm constructing my board and laying out my pieces."

Law's posture relaxed beside her and she heard his low, raspy chuckle. He was smart enough to understand with only that.

"Your map," he whispered knowingly. "And what of these rowan branches? What purpose do they serve?"

"The rowan is sacred to Sif and was once Thor's salvation. It is a sacred tree and filled with magic, particularly the magic needed to protect that which is important," she explained.

"And you mean to send these to your wolf to protect him in this storm?"

She nodded. "And guide him through it."

"You seemed displeased with your map when last I saw it. Are you happy with it now?"

Nami frowned at that question. "I am as happy as I can be with it. I do not have much time, so it will have to do for now, but I feel it is missing something."

"You need all your pieces in place to launch a successful attack on the king," Law mused. "You are missing pieces, then?"

"What have you heard of the other berserker?" she whispered. "Kid could use every ally he can find. If he can make common cause with this chieftain—"

"All I know is that his territory is further north, into the mountains. Those lands are not very fertile, which is the reason they cross into the king's stolen territories and raid where they can. But, I have heard nothing else of them," he said, sounding as unhappy as she felt. But he looked down at her with a confidant glimmer in his eye and spared her a hint of a smile as he placed his hand over hers. "I will keep my ears open and tell you if I hear any more. The king won his throne by surrounding the village from every angle. He will likely expect that strategy if his enemies gather together."

"I will need to strike from within to catch him by surprise," she agreed. "That I will accomplish"—she patted his hand—"with my new brother, of course."

"I am an outsider, Lady Nami," he reminded. "It will be difficult for me to strike from within."

"I have a feeling that you will not be an outsider for long, Corazon," she said. "Not if my first move succeeds."

"And what move are you plan—" A horn blast interrupted him and they both gazed back at the king's hall as they listened to an answering blast coupled by the sodden clomp of horses trotting through mud.

Nami squeezed Law's hand to bring his attention back to her. She held his gaze. "You will know soon," she whispered. "All you need to do is trust me a little."

He stared in thoughtful silence for a long moment, but eventually gave her a nod.

She released his arm and hollered up at Ove to stop working. "We'll finish another day. We need to greet King Enel." He waved down at her and began to slowly lower himself from the slick boughs. Nami turned to Conis. "Have them bring the clean branches to my quarters. The rest can be turned into kindling. Perhaps for the king's bath. And then see that they are fed well for their work."

"Of course, Lady Nami." Conis nodded. "Is there anything else you will need?"

"Not at the moment," she said, turning to take Law by the arm to walk to the hall with him. "Join us in the hall once the men are seen to."

Ove leapt from the last branch and landed in the mud, splattering the nearby men and Conis's skirt. Nami did not miss the glare he set on Law as he stalked toward them. He had been amicable throughout the day, but his sneer said that his mood had soured considerably. She shrugged it off, blamed it on the poor weather. He was cold and tired and prepared to take it out on whoever drew his ire first. That was the most reasonable excuse for his snarl.

"He does not seem to like you," Nami mused as Ove shoved by to head inside.

Law shrugged. "I doubt it's personal. He seems to dislike everyone."

"He was never this way in Kid's hall," she muttered.

Law tugged on her arm to lead her toward the hall. "Did you two get along well?"

"Well enough," she huffed. "He was quiet and kept to himself. He did not fall over himself to impress me like the others, but that was not strange. There were others in Kid's hall that were quiet and distant. I do not remember him being so rude, though. And he got along so well with the children."

"Circumstances have changed. He resides in a new hall, with people who do not seem to care for one another, and must live with the knowledge that he betrayed a man who will likely not forgive him for it. Let him be surly and short-tempered. You have greater things to concern yourself with." He squeezed her arm and drew her attention to his mischievous smile. "Such as that first move you intend to make. Now that the king has returned, how quickly do you intend to act?"

Nami frowned in thought. "I can not act too hastily, but I can not waste too much time. I will give him a day or two to settle back into his routine and approach him."

"I take it I should not be a stranger to this hall in the meantime?"

"If you did not have a prisoner to keep, I would spare you a bed in my work room," she said with a laugh. "Be here as often as you can."

A servant greeted them once they entered the main hall. They were given linen cloths to wipe away the mud on their shoes and clothes before heading further inside. Enel's laughter bellowed from the reception room. He was in good spirits, despite the weather and the length of his journey. That was good. She would have a better chance of plying favors from him when he was jovial.

Servants rushed through the corridors from the kitchens with plates and pitchers as Nami and Law made their way to the king's reception hall. Enel stood tall beside the hearth as he spoke with his priests while he dried his curly blond hair with a linen towel. His white tunic was pulled from his trousers, the neck open and loose to reveal damp and pale skin. Another slave ran by with a pile of dry clothes in hand, prompting the king to shed his sodden shirt and change in the middle of the room.

"Nami," he greeted as he tossed his tunic into the face of another slave. His grin wavered as his gaze settled on Law. "Corazon," he said without warmth.

"You were away longer than we expected," Nami said, skipping ahead of Law to distract the king from the outsider's presence. "I almost thought to worry."

Enel's brow rose and his lips quirked into a lopsided smile. "Worry? For me? I find that offensive."

She waved off the threat of his ire and came to stand before him. "My runes said you would be delayed," she insisted before sticking her lip out in a pout. "I trusted that you would return safely. A king and god such as you would not fall on a simple journey to farmlands. But I feared that a delay might bring poor news from the farms you visited. Any delay they cause could potentially delay your voyage to the world you've foreseen, and I am eager to set sail with you." She puffed her cheeks in a show of irritation. "And is it really so wrong to worry for a man I owe so much to. I've lost much in life already. I would not be able to bear losing you so soon after you found me."

"Is that so?" He threw his head back with a laugh. She fought the urge to flinch when he raised his hand and set it atop her head. Her shoulders relaxed as he stroked her hair. "I suppose if your concerns were heartfelt and genuine, and you had not lost faith in me, then your worry can be forgiven." When his hand fell away to unlace his trousers, Nami turned her back to him. "Satori tells me that you have made yourself at home while I was away," Enel mused as she listened to him change.

"I did. I hope you do not mind that I found a use for a guest room."

"It was gathering dust. If you have a need for it, then by all means, feel free to use it," Enel said. "I do not understand why you cannot do your work in the main room, though."

"I had Conis weaving fabric for more clothes. The loom has no place near your throne. And I need peace and quiet when I work on my maps. If I worked out here, I would have your militia and soldiers running about, drinking and eating, and quite possibly spilling all over my hard work. It is best if I maintain my space separate from them," she said.

"If that is what you feel, then I will not argue," Enel agreed. She felt her cloak flutter and glanced over her shoulder to see him assessing the new piece. His smile said he approved. "This suits you much better than that rag."

Seeing that he had fresh blue trousers on, Nami spun to grin at him. "I had hoped that you would appreciate it. I have your servants working on other dresses, too, so that I might not embarrass you when I walk at your side. A woman clad in gold and amber and the finest silks would hardly be enough for a god such as yourself, but the peasants do not know better and will be impressed with the power and wealth you possess nonetheless."

Enel hummed as he donned a fresh white tunic, lined with gold and blue thread along collar and sleeve. The fire made the thread glimmer as though it were sparks of lightning. A servant helped secure his thick leather belt around his waist, filling the hall with the chime of the belt's golden rings as they struck one another. Once dressed, he sat down beside the fire and kicked his feet up onto the stone edge of the hearth to warm them.

"And what of Corazon?" Enel asked her as a servant brought him a cup of mulled wine. His voice was low, the question meant only for her. He cast his eyes to the table Law had quietly sat down at, a distance from the king and his priests and servants. "Has he behaved himself?"

Nami crouched down beside him with an easygoing smile. "He has kept me company while you were away, nothing more. It is good to have someone to practice my Frankish with, especially my letters. I learned how to draw my maps by mimicking ones from Francia, so I prefer to use Frankish script on my work. Unfortunately, it is not my strong suit," she lied. "Corazon is better educated in that regard."

"What purpose do your maps serve, anyway?" His eyes narrowed as he regarded her closely, his cup hovering before his lips.

"Why, they are for you," she said, feigning surprise that he would be suspicious of them. "I know you are already familiar with this region and I would not presume that you need them, but your soldiers and generals could use the additional information to better guard against attack. The wolf I abandoned in Drafn will try to attack someday. It is best to be prepared in every way." At his nod of understanding, she brightened. "And, it is good practice for the chart I mean to make for our voyage." His brow lifted in silent question, beckoning that she elaborate. "I heard you have charts for the route to Greenland."

"I do," he assured.

"I can take those charts, as well as the map I mean to create for the route to England, and surmise an ideal route to take us farther. I will find a way to get your arc and fleet to the rich lands far to the west as expediently as possible, with minimal loss of life. I hope."

"Very good," he praised as he reached out to pat her hair. "I am glad to hear that you have fully embraced your fate here. We will accomplish great things together."

Her cheeks ached with how wide her smile grew and the laugh she gave him sounded foreign to her ears, hardly genuine. But it seemed to please the king as he continued to stroke her hair while he relaxed by the fire. He did not doubt her faithfulness to him.

"So, what delayed you?" she asked, casting a look toward Ohm as he took a seat near the king. He was still dressed in his sodden tunic and trousers, but did not seem in a rush to change. He waved off the servant that brought him new clothes, muttered a command that they fill a bath in his quarters and bring his supper to him there. He appeared weary from their trek that morning, unlike the relaxed posture of the king.

"Trivial matters," Enel said with a wave, drawing her attention back to him. "Ah, though it does remind me, I have gifts for you."

"Gifts?" Nami straightened her back and glanced around the room in search of these gifts.

Enel held a hand out to Ohm. "The first is rather small, but I have no use for it," he said while his priest searched through the contents of a purse on his belt until he found a slender gold coil. He handed it to Enel, who held it out to her in turn. "A farmer's son had gone raiding in Slavic territories without my permission and returned a fortnight ago with his share of the plunder. It was a meager pittance. A few coins and a copper plate." He shrugged. "But, this little treasure was in his mother's hair." He spun the coil around for her to see the two amber stones set into the gold at the top and bottom of the piece. "It naturally made me think of you. I agreed to spare their son's life in exchange for his hoard, and I promised not to take more than a finger if his mother parted with this."

She wanted nothing more than to snatch the gold from Enel's grasp, but she hesitated and looked to the king as though silently asking for permission. He nodded and held it closer.

"It's beautiful," she said breathlessly once she took it. "I am far from worthy to be receiving such gifts from you."

"No one is, but you are my cousin and future queen. If anyone is deserving of a gift from me, it is you," he assured, much to her surprise. He raised a hand and waved at where McKinley stood guard near the doors. With a nod, McKinley turned to step out of the hall while Enel looked to her with a lazy smile. "I feel the other gift is far more suitable for you. A symbol of a promise I intend to keep."

She cocked her head to the side and glanced toward the door as McKinley reentered with a large grey and brown creature draped over his shoulder. He shifted the carcass and her eyes widened when she caught the great maw of a wolf hanging over his back.

"On our return journey, we caught two people hunting within my forests. Unpermitted. They had injured this beast and were prepared to kill it when I intervened and slew it myself. We will skin it and tan the hide for a new fur shawl or blanket for you. Whichever you desire," Enel said as McKinley brought the creature to her. He draped it over her lap, its lifeless eyes peering up at her. Her heart clenched, her lungs ached for a breath, and she desperately tired to keep her panic at bay as Enel leaned toward her with mirth in his eyes. "The wolf that haunts your dreams—this will be his fate if he comes for you. That I can promise you. He would be wise to bend the knee to me, but I know berserker chieftains can be too prideful for their own good. If he refuses to heed wisdom, I won't just kill him. I will skin him alive and make shoes from the hide so that he may learn how beneath me he is as I drag his life through mud and shit. I will pluck his teeth and eyes out, carve him limb from limb, and feed him to the dogs. He will beg for death once I am done with him."

Fire grew in her chest as she imagined Kid's misery. She could not let him be subjected to that torture and humiliation. She could not let him fall so far that he would ever willingly beg for anything, let alone death. She dug her hands into the wolf's fur as her anger grew. She could not fail him. She could not lose this war.

A touch to her chin forced her to focus on the king as he tilted her face up. His gaze was curious and amused, his head tilted to the side as he looked at her.

"Does that anger you, my lady?" he asked quietly. "Does the thought of your wolf's demise fill you with righteous fury?"

She jerked her face from his grip and glared at him. She could not have him see through her mask so easily. "Of course not," she snapped. "I am only angered at the thought he would be so arrogant as to defy you. Only a reckless fool would think to fight a god. Whatever fate becomes of him is of his own making and rightfully deserved."

Enel sat back in his chair, chuckling. "Good. Good," he praised. "You are a wise woman to understand that. Now, what shall we make of that carcass there?"

Nami looked down at the wolf in her lap and frowned. "A blanket," she decided as she ignored the shiver that ran down her back. "Perhaps the reminder of the security you provide will ease my mind and chase away the wolf in my dreams." She smiled up at him. "I will sleep easier draped in your promise to me."

"So be it. McKinley, see that the fur is prepared hastily," he commanded. "I will not see Nami suffer those dreams any longer."

McKinley pulled the wolf from her lap while she stole one last, lingering stroke of its soft fur. She remembered the fur on Kid's cloak was just as soft, a warm comfort she longed to have once again. It was no lie that the wolf pelt would bring peace to her at night. It would remind her of the security she once had in Kid's hall. In Kid's bed. She would have that back again. No matter what it took, she would find her way back to him.

McKinley left after a short bow to his king, the wolf hanging heavy over his back. Conis appeared with a chair for Nami to sit in and a fresh cup of warm wine that she was quite grateful for then. The numbing tingle of the drink would soothe her heart and chase away her worries, if only for the night. She would play her part as adoring, devoted priestess that night and return to her plot come the morning.

"I trust you took care of those poachers?" Nami asked as she settled beside the fire.

Enel hummed into his cup as he drank deep from his wine. "Of course," he said as he held his empty cup to be filled and leaned his head back to recline in his chair. He was as lazy and at ease as ever. "They broke my laws just by setting foot on my land after their exile. Their attempt at hunting my creatures has assured a harsh judgement from me on the morrow."

"The morrow?" Nami sat straight as she sought to understand what he meant. "You did not execute them on the spot?"

The king laughed. "I thought of it, but I believe their fearless chieftain could do with a reminder of what befalls those who cross to my lands."

"Their chieftain? The other berserker I've heard whispers of?"

"Wiper." Enel nodded. "That is the one. I have two of his people tied to stakes in the square. They will sit there until their trial in the morning." He stretched and yawned and then took a sip of his fresh wine. "If they grovel sufficiently, put on a good show for my forgiveness, I may consider sparing one of their lives. But, their chieftain will have at least one head delivered within a fortnight."

Nami felt a chill in her bones as the king laughed. Whatever else he had to say was lost to her as she thought about this news.

She stood before she could stop herself, drawing Enel's confused gaze to her.

"I wish to see these criminals," she said with all the nobility she could feign while her hands threatened to shake with excitement. "I want to see the fools who dared to break your laws."

Enel's brow rose, but he acquiesced without any question. He stood with a tired groan, placed his hand on the small of her back, and led her outside.

The square was shrouded in swirling, grey wisps of fog as the light rain continued to fall. The drizzle kept others from lingering outside for most of the day, but some had come out of their homes to see who the king had taken hostage. People huddled together in pairs and trios, whispering to each other as they stood as far as they could from the two tied up in the square. As soon as they took notice of the king, the people scattered and returned to their homes, leaving the square to feel colder and drearier than it already was.

Enel's two captives sat in the mud at the base of their stakes, their arms bound above their heads. She stepped away from the king to inspect the pair, stopping first in front of a man dressed in loose, wet rags, lined with frayed and shredded clumps of fur. His clothes may once have been fine, but they had been torn and patched so many times, it was difficult to tell. His head was shaved on the sides, leaving only a thin line of hair to run along the center of his scalp, from forehead to the base of his skull. The brown strands curled in the rain and dripped over his brow where fresh cuts wept and bled into his closed eyes. His face was swollen and bruised, his nose broken and bleeding, his arms and legs cut, and as she circled him, she found his shirt stained with blood from the whippings he had endured.

He was fortunate to be unconscious. The cold rain would see that his wounds stung and prolonged his suffering.

She kept her expression frozen and neutral, pretended the tremor in her hands was merely from the cold as she bundled herself up in her cloak, and walked toward the second captive. She was surprised to find herself staring down at a woman, her long black hair tangled and matted with blood from a wound on her temple. Her purple dress was lined with faded reds, the colorful garment beautiful, albeit old and worn, though had seen less abuse than the man's. Her face was in better shape, as well. Other than the strike to her temple, there was a cut on her lip and nothing more. She had been shown some mercy, though the ropes binding her were tight enough to leave her wrists raw and bloody.

To Nami's further surprise, the woman was awake. She shivered and sniffled and twisted her hands in her bonds, appearing pathetic and weak. But when she turned her gaze up, Nami saw nothing but determination burning in her eyes.

Nami took a step back as she heard others come out from the hall, but she did not take her gaze from the woman. She felt herself drawn tight with anticipation as someone splashed through the muddy square and stopped just beside her. It took every thread of control she had to keep her breathing even, her mask in place.

A warm hand wrapped over her shoulder. A whispered breath fanned over her ear. A deep, rasping Frankish, dark and knowing, said what she could not.

"I believe these are the pawns you have been searching for."

And now her plan could truly take shape.

---

A/N: Wow, I'm sorry this took way longer than I anticipated it would take to write. I've been dealing with some sinus issues and a head cold, among other things that have left me feeling exhausted. I'm still trying to overcome it all and reclaim my usual level of motivation and energy, but I'm hoping it'll be better soon.

I think the only note I have on this chapter is about Ove's reference to Freyr. There is a story about a group of priests that devoted themselves to Freyr, and sometimes Njord. They dressed and behaved as women and called themselves wives and some would sacrifice themselves to Freyr to be in Alfheim with him, while also bestowing the god's blessings on their family. So, yes, Ove is gay and I will address some aspects of homosexuality in this time period and place in later chapters, though information on this is scant, theoretical, and based on lore and historical accounts written by Christians who did not have a favorable view of homosexuality or transgender people. For instance, the account of Freyr's priests was written by Saxo Grammaticus, a Christian scholar, and was quite scathing of these men who performed 'feminine' acts... But obviously these men were afforded some form of honor within their own societies given their position as priests for Vanir gods.

Oh, also, I debated for a long time about using Wiper and the Shandians in this arc. Obviously Enel fits beautifully into Norse mythology because of his connections to Thor, but the Shandians designs are based on the indigenous people in the Americas (that great big swath of land that Enel has foreseen and wants to conquer). So, I wasn't sure how well I could adapt them to this society, but then I remembered that a lot of Norse paganism shares qualities with indigenous faiths. They certainly are not the same, but there are similar traditions in terms of ancestor and nature worship. Also, the Shandians viewed Kashigami, the serpent Nola descended from, as a god (and later Nola, too). In Norse lore, in the battle of Ragnarok, Thor's nemesis is the Midgard serpent, Jormungandr (Loki's son). Thor slays the serpent, but dies after walking nine paces, having been poisoned by Jormungand's venom. So, I find the Shandian's revering a snake and viewing Enel as their ultimate nemesis as a fitting bit of poetry reflective of the lore. Plus, Kid really does need all the allies he can get. And I wanted to use Laki in this somehow, because I wanted more female characters. And I like Laki. So there is that, too. Oh, also, Wiper's epithet is 'Berserker' sooooooo... perfect for this fic.

I might keep the next few chapters on the short side, but we'll see. I'm thinking it might help me keep up better with this story if I don't try to write 20,000 word chapters (minimum) every time. Also, I might focus on one point of view, or region, at a time. So, I might focus on Law and Nami's point of view one chapter, then switch to Kid's in the next, and so on. But... I might change my mind as I write, because I do that. Either way, I am going to adjust my routine and approach a bit in the hopes it will push me through the last of my inactivity and get me back on schedule.

Thank you for your patience and reviews. I promise I have not forgotten this fic (at least).