Within the Bone

IX. A Terrible Wrath

The hall of Luukas Fire-Bringer was almost deathly quiet as Mara followed her mother and brother in. She saw many of her kin gathered to the sides of the walls and Gareth standing beside her father's throne. Not one had any softness to their expression, but Mara knew better than to expect warmth from the warriors of Sjaligr. She was a contamination to them, a severing from the flow of Creation through the world that granted them their powers. Bringing them a dark oracle did nothing to endear her to them.

Mara felt about an inch tall as she looked to her father's seat, raised slightly from the rest of the floor by a series of stone steps. The only things offering her any comfort were her mother's presence to her left and Aallotar to her right. The wildling gave her hand a squeeze, holding with a tightness that told of Aallotar's own tension.

Though, for all the men gathered around with weapons at their sides, the wildling did not appear frightened. Mara wasn't certain if it was courage or ignorance of the danger they posed.

"Luukas, what is the meaning of this?" Eirlys asked, a calm authority in her tone. Mara saw many shift at her presence. The smithing of Eirlys Silver-Song was a chief reason for Sjaligr's prominence and fortunes. Few wanted to anger her, even knowing she was the unceasing protector of the spell-breaker.

Mara's father seemed unreachable by even his beloved wife's voice, sapphire eyes hard and cold as he gazed down at the huntress. "Gareth sought Kalevi and carried back an oracle of his own," he said. "It seems our sleeping demon will find its place at the right hand of those who seek the destruction of Sjaligr."

"And you trust that he gave this message with impartiality and in its fullness?" Eirlys said.

Gareth's face twisted in anger. "Are you accusing me of lying, sister-in-law?" he demanded. His hand stayed away from his weapon whatever his fury, well aware that his brother would put him in the ground for harming a hair on Eirlys's head despite their disagreements.

"You would say anything to rid yourself of Mara," the chieftain's wife said without backing down an inch, the steel in her voice no longer hidden behind softness.

Luukas gripped the arms of his throne. "Beloved, this is no longer a matter of Spell-Breaker's curse," he said coolly. "Nor Gareth's disgust for it."

Mara gripped Aallotar's hand so tightly that the color bled from her knuckles. If it pained the wildling, she gave no sign.

Eirlys seemed to straighten imperceptibly. "Mara is my daughter, Luukas."

"I know," Mara's father said, leaning back slightly in his seat. "But the gods have spoken. The spell-breaker will destroy Sjaligr and all its people if permitted to live. I am sorry for your grief."

Mara felt a sudden cold and light-headedness sweep through her body. She'd always known that her father cared nothing for her survival, but for him to actively pursue her death was new. What poison had Gareth poured into his ear? Or, worse yet, what had the oracle revealed?

The color drained out of Eirlys's face, but she in no way softened. "You cannot do this, Luukas!" she said fiercely. "I will not permit it! If you would have me at your side, Mara leaves Sjaligr alive."

"And in exile, what do you think the spell-breaker will do?" Gareth challenged. "Kalevi saw her standing at the right hand of Void!"

Aallotar lunged for Mara's uncle, teeth bared like an animal's as her golden eyes flashed. Mara barely kept hold of her, wrapping arms around Aallotar's waist to pull her backwards. "Don't, Aallotar," Mara said near her friend's ear. "We need to run, not fight."

"Guards, remove the feral. Banishment is more than suitable for a foreigner who has committed no crime yet," Gareth said, gesturing to several warriors waiting to each side. "This judgment does not require an outsider."