Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Nettle hooked her arm around Snow’s. “Snow covers the stairs, m’lady, go slow.”
Thaw followed the pair down the steps, keeping watch on Snow until they reached the bottom.
“Thaw runs ahead,” Nettle said, watching the pup rush off. “He heads to the crowd gathered in the middle of the village.”
“Hurry and get us there, Nettle,” Snow urged.
“Much snow has fallen in a short time,” Nettled explained as she kept tight hold of Snow’s arm and headed to the crowd as Thaw had done.
“Fear not, this will be dealt with!”
Snow recognized her husband’s strong, commanding voice ring out and, though he had warned against it, she couldn’t stop a twinge of fear from striking her. What could have driven people from their warm beds in the middle of the night to go outside in the cold and falling snow?
Nettle eased their way through the crowd, though when people saw who she brought with her, they parted leaving a path for Lord Tarass’s new wife.
When they got near to the front of the crowd, Nettle caught sight of what had frightened the people. She came to an abrupt halt, shivered, and gasped, “Oh, Lord, have mercy on us.”
Chapter 18
“What is it?” Snow asked in a whisper.
“Another pool of blood, that devours the snow,” Nettle murmured, tales of the first pool of blood having circulated the clan.
“The dwarfs, Fjalar and Galar, are here. They look for more blood,” someone in the crowd called out.
“They search for knowledge like they did with Kvasir,” another called out.
Rannock’s strong voice rang clear. “Then none of you have anything to worry about since the lot of you lack knowledge.”
“Heads are nodding and smiles are breaking out,” Nettle whispered to Snow. “They are happy to be ignorant.”
Another person spoke up. “Someone here is wise like Kvasir and the dwarfs want his knowledge. What if they choose the wrong person and drain him of his blood by mistake?”
Gasps rushed through the crowd.
“Fear replaces the smiles,” Nettle told Snow.
“I will see to this. You have nothing to fear,” Tarass commanded.
“This danger arrived with your new wife. It is she who the dwarfs want,” someone shouted.
Nettle wrapped her arm around Snow. “We should leave.”
“No,” Snow said. “Stand me out in front of the crowd and do not argue over it with me.”
Nettle did as she was told, then stepped to Snow’s side while Thaw wasted no time in running to her and taking a protective stance in front of her.
Snow kept her voice strong and clear. “I’ve brought no danger to your clan. What knowledge I have is easily obtainable by all, and I will not be maligned for something that doesn’t involve me. Look to yourselves, for I have nothing to do with this.”
Tarass had been annoyed when he first caught sight of his wife making her way through the crowd. She had disobeyed him and now here she stood in front of his clan having her say, and he couldn’t be more proud of her.
“If I hear anyone malign my wife, the consequences will be severe,” Tarass warned, his powerful voice carrying out over the crowd. “She had no part in this, and this,” —he pointed to the pool of blood in such stark contrast to the pure white snow— “is not the work of dwarfs. It is humans who did this, and I will find them and see them suffer. Now go home, sleep, and know you are safe.”
Grumbles and whispers were heard as the crowd dispersed.
Tarass turned to Rannock. “I don’t want a drop of this blood left here or seen anywhere in the village by morning.”
Rannock kept his voice low. “What if the dwarfs are here?”
“Then it will be their blood that is spilled,” Tarass said and walked around the pool of blood, smaller than the one they had come upon in the woods, and went straight to his wife.
“Your husband approaches… hastily,” Nettle said and stepped aside.
“You disobeyed me,” Tarass scolded sharply.
“Who are these dwarfs and this Kvasir?” Snow asked, ignoring his reprimand.
“That matters not,” he chided, taking her arm. “Nettle, you are no longer needed tonight.”
“It does matter,” she insisted as he forced her into step beside him before she could bid Nettle good-night. “It could be a clue in solving the mystery of the two pools of blood and perhaps they are connected with Finn and the stranger’s death.”
“Lord Tarass!”
He stopped and turned to see one of his warriors running toward him, the shocked look on his face alerting him to what was bound to be more disturbing news.
The warrior kept his voice low. “The body, my lord… it’s gone.”
“Which body?” Snow asked.
Tarass sent his wife a scowl, then realized she couldn’t see it. His annoyance grew when the warrior turned to her and answered.
“The stranger with the markings.”
“How…” Tarass shook his head, knowing the answer as did his wife.