Page 10 of The Magic of Vanaheim

“Anheir?” Anya repeated incredulously, her voice rising as if she had never thought of the possibility.

She probably hadn’t either, Håkon realized in horror. He felt sick. How could their father even consider bartering her away to the enemy like a broodmare? She was still so young, he couldn’t leave her to this fate.

“There’s another option,” Håkon blurted.

“I have no intention of discussing politics with a fool who wasn’t able to take the city when he had a whole army at his disposal,” Bergelmir snarled.

“But we don’t have to conquer the city,” Håkon said quickly. “Think about it! The Queen is gone, and whether the man ruling theVaniris Prince Rune or not, he’s the only one of their dynasty left. If he dies, if we cut off the serpent’s head, Vanaheim will fall.”

Bergelmir looked like he’d dismiss his idea, but then his features twisted into a shrewd grin.

“Are you proposing Princess Anya should kill her husband?”

Hel, no.

“Not Princess Anya, but someone disguised as her. Someone who could make sure the Prince Regent dies.”

Anya’s mouth dropped open in shock, and she shook her head, clearly catching on to his plan before their father did.

“Even if I were to consider such a plan,” Bergelmir said dismissively, “who would be willing to undertake such a suicidal endeavor?”

“Me,” Håkon said. “I’ll kill the Prince Regent, and the throne of the second realm will be yours.”

“No, Håkon, this is madness,” Anya blurted. “Even if you kill this sorcerer, there’ll be no way to escape.”

Bergelmir nodded thoughtfully. “Well, a fair chance and a heroic deed worthy of a skald’s song. I’m inclined to allow it.”

“It’s too risky, Father!” Anya cried. “Can’t you see that Håkon will die there? Don’t you care? Let me marry Prince Rune and win the throne for you!”

Håkon almost laughed at her words. Anya was too young to understand that they were only pawns in their father’s schemes. And the life of a bastard son didn’t matter, anyway.

Bergelmir made a dismissive gesture.

“No. If he fails, you might still have to marry the Prince. This way, we have the option to forge other alliances.”

“But, Father—”

Putting a hand on her shoulder, Håkon cut her objections short before she could get herself into serious trouble.

“Very well, my king,” Håkon said. If he could take a fewVanrsorcerers with him to the Halls of the Dead and at the same time ensure Anya’s happiness and safety—at least for the moment—then so be it. There were worse fates than a hero’s death.

“Everything is prepared,” Bergelmir stated. “You’ll sail out as soon as the solar winds are favorable.”

Nodding, Håkon pulled Anya backwards by her sleeve. The king had already turned to the letters waiting for him on his desk. Håkon knew they were dismissed, and this way he could hope that his sister wouldn’t incur the king’s wrath by saying something untoward.

“And Anya—” They’d almost made it out of the door when Bergelmir spoke up again. “You’re to return to Maiden’s Island immediately. I don’t want to hear any complaints from the priestesses again. Otherwise, I’ll assign your servant girl to someone else. You know, the one you call friend.”

“As you wish,Father.” Anya seethed, her eyes shining with such hatred that Håkon feared she might try to strangle the king with her bare hands.

Out in the corridor, he hastily led Anya away from the guards now standing by the doors. As soon as they were out of Bergelmir’s sight, Håkon felt like he could breathe a little easier.

“What have you done?” Anya choked when they were alone. Her eyes were suddenly filled with tears.

“There was no other choice.” He gently took Anya’s hands, needing her to understand. “I’ll have a chance to flee after I kill Prince Rune. But no one can survive as an unwanted wife at an enemy court.”

“You have met the Prince during the siege of Saeborg, haven’t you? Maybe if we talked to him—”

Håkon shook his head. He wasn’t even sure who the sorcerer had been who had regrouped theVanirforces and thereby single-handedly turned the tides of the battle. Unbidden images of green eyes and a sly grin flood his memory. TheVanrhad been too young to be Prince Rune, a warrior just above the age of boyhood. But Håkon had thought about him often after this day, finding himself admiring the strength of a single man, realigning the strings of fate for his whole people. If only Håkon had found the courage to disentangle the knots of his own fate when he’d been younger. But he’d chosen the path of loyalty to his kingdom and kin. That couldn’t be helped now.