Wolf Den - Lìfa-Saga Book 2

V.

"New jarl, huh?" Bjarne leaned against the table, arms crossed and a sarcastic smile spreading across his face. "Let me guess, you're thinking about yourself, right?"

Vidar stood his gaze with a broad smile and casually took a sip of his drink before answering.

"Yes, indeed. I think we all can agree that despite those drawings on her arm, it would be foolish to follow the girl. You'd look like a bunch of jesters following what her cursed god whispers in her ears. We need someone capable of making the best choices for both the town and us. Someone who really knows the business. And, since back then I was Egil's only competitor, I volunteer for the post."

Despite the heat of anger rising and swirling in her soul, deep down Lìfa knew he was right. She wasn't the right choice to be the jarl and she wouldn't even dream about it. Her time just hadn't come yet, but she was also sure that it wasn't Vidar's time either. Her fist clenched and throat felt tight with fear by the thought of what he'd do to her and Sveinn if he was in charge.

Looking around, she figured her friends might have the same thoughts running behind their furrowed brows and stormy eyes. The excitement lingering around them in the stiff air turned into something more tense and uptight with a promise of a fight.

"Of course, you do." Bjarne let out a cold laugh and spat on the ground, disgust dripping from his words. "And how stupid do you think we are? You'd watch us work 'till we spit our souls out while you're sitting around in your throne with a beer in hand. Believe me, there's a reason we chose Egil over you."

Trying to hide his feelings, Vidar's lips pulled into an empty smile as he spoke, but Lìfa could see Bjarne's words biting into him like snakes.

"But Egil is no more. I'm your only choice left since –" He couldn't finish as Carolus slammed his lute on the table, his face as red as his beard and hair.

"Fuck no! Don't even think for a minute that I'd follow you anywhere, Vidar! You only care for yourself. For Odin's beard, you're so greedy, you'd sell your own mother if it's good trade!"

"How dare you!" His head fuming from anger, Vidar lunged towards the skald. Like time had slowed down, Lìfa watched him pushing Ivar and Halfdan out of his way, his fist raised to strike, shouting like a wild animal.

Before he could reach Carolus, Sveinn jumped between them to stop the fight, taking the hit right in his face. Slowly wiping down the fresh blood coming from his mouth, Sveinn pulled his fist back and before Lìfa could stop him, slammed it into the scout's nose with all his might.

Time going back on full speed and with her heart racing in her throat, Lìfa held onto Sveinn as strong as she could, trying to keep him from causing more damage. Watching Halfdan helping Vidar up from the ground with his nose bleeding, she just realised how her friend had changed during his training. The wild shine in his eyes and the angry snarl on his swollen lips were a new part of him Lìfa saw for the first time.

"It's time to put a leash on your new dog, Thorvald. He thinks too much of himself. Maybe I'll teach you some respect when I make your slutty wife my new maid," the scout hissed from behind his hand still holding his nose and spat some blood on the ground.

Lìfa felt Sveinn tensing up in her hold again, moving towards the man. Afraid that the boy would do something he'd regret later, she stepped in front of him, cupping his face in her hands.

"Sveinn, look at me, don't listen to him!" She forced him to look her in the eye, trying to tear him away from the anger building up inside. "He's all bark, but no bite. It's not worth it."

"No, he's not worth it. He'll never be half as good as Magni was. You're just a weak replacement!"

Sveinn moved towards the man again, but for Lìfa's relief, Thorvald stepped in this time, holding the boy back by his shoulder, addressing the scout himself.

"Enough, Vidar! You did just enough this morning. I volunteer too. I don't want any of you to vow loyalty to me, and I do not wish to be your jarl. My offer is to be your leader as a friend if we decide to follow Lìfa's guide and find that treasure."

"Oh, how foolish of you! Do you really think that they'd follow you without a vow and rules? Without power? Well, let's vote and see!" Vidar carried his gaze upon the crew with a smug smile on his face, ignoring the spicy, malcontent comments flying towards him. "Who votes for Thorvald to be in charge?"

Like time had stopped for a minute, the words following didn't reach Lìfa's mind as her head suddenly got dizzy again and her hands still holding onto Sveinn began sweating. With eyes wide open, she watched her friends putting up their hands one by one, voting to follow the berserker and her. Carolus, Bjarne, Ivar, Sveinn, Olaf... and for her biggest surprise, Halfdan.

Even though the warm feeling of happiness spread like wildfire in her soul, the girl knew they didn't win the fight just yet, as Vidar's face turned into a colour of deep red, reminding her of a geyser ready to explode. Her breath got caught in as Vidar pulled his knife out and waved the blade at them with his lips curving into a wolf-like snarl.

"You ungrateful bastards! Fucking cowards! Traitors!" His eyes were filled with madness and blind hatred as he was shouting at the others, pointing his knife at the men around him one by one. "You're all gonna die following this fucking witch!"

"That's enough!" Frode raised his voice, stomping his staff on the floor. His face looked tired and older than ever before, but his voice was sharp and cold as metal. Lìfa felt the strange shiver running down her spine as the air filled with seidr around the old man. "If you can't lose with dignity, leave. I had enough of you and your ungodly temper this morning."

"You know what? I'm leaving this fucking shithole, but remember, you'll regret this! You all gonna regret this, especially you!" The scout stopped before Lìfa, his blade inches from her face. Keeping an emotionless, straight face, the girl stood his gaze without a word. Instead, her eyes were talking, the raging fire and the stormy sea behind her gaze cut into Vidar's flesh like his very own blade. Spitting on the ground, he cursed one last time and left the mead-hall.

When he disappeared from sight, Lìfa felt like the whole group just let out a big breath they all were holding in. Like they finally surfaced after a painfully long time underwater.

Now, that the tension built up in her slowly faded away and her body stopped shaking, Lìfa could finally let her thoughts flood into her mind. Her face lit up with a bright smile as she realised that they were really going for the treasure, the group really wanted to follow Thorvald's and her lead.