Nena by Ann Boelter (digital book reader txt) 📕

The trio stood before Meln with their heads bowed. “Your behavior and utter lack of restraint is a disgrace. You dishonor yourselves and you dishonor me.” He turned his attention to Lothor. “You shame me with a brawl in my own council tent? I had thought to soon turn the mantle of chief over to you, but your rage so consumes you, I fear I can no longer trust your judgment. Your display here today only deepens my doubt.”

“And you.” Meln turned to Nena. “You are not without fault. You insult a fellow warrior in front of his brothers? In front of me?” His voice rose again at the thought of her ridiculing verbal assault on Baldor. Meln paused to take another deep breath. “Do you recognize the Northman?” he asked her.

Did she recognize him? In every way possible. By sight, by sound, by scent—by touch. She would know him anywhere. “Yes. His name is Jarl. He is the leader of the Northmen.”

A murmur rippled through the council tent. “Their leader?” Meln said, and sat back as he contemplated the significance of her words.

Nena did not speak. She knew he was thinking that Jarl must have come to negotiate something important. She couldn’t tell him, that like the Teclan, the Northmen negotiated with their swords, not their words. Thankfully her father didn’t ask her what she thought it might be. Instead, he turned his attention to Baldor.

“Perhaps you can tell me why the leader of the Northmen is here, Baldor, since I can hardly question a man who is not conscious. Did he come here to negotiate? Did he come to make offer of something? You must know the answers, or you would not have dared to dispatch him. So tell me, why is he here?”

Baldor shook his head and remained staring at the floor.

“You respond to insult with rage, like some novice warrior with no training. Then you take it upon yourself to make sentence on my prisoner and execute it as if you were chief? Remove yourself from my sight. I will let you know your punishment later. You are fortunate the cell is occupied or you would find yourself there this night.”

Meln leaned back and brought his fingertips together under his chin, then turned to address the other council warriors. “I will delay my decision on the manner of his death until I hear what the Northman has to say. Send word to me as soon as he awakens. In the meantime, I will consult the gods. This council is adjourned.” He stood on the dais and dismissed the meeting.

Nena stood in the trees for many minutes, staring at the cell. The lone clay and thatch hut in the center of the clearing was a forbidden place for children, though she’d been in it twice as a child to satisfy a dare. Ruga and Lothor had each spent a night there in chains, on her father’s orders, to show them what imprisonment would be like if they were ever captured. In an uncharacteristic soft decision, he had not ordered Nena to also experience it, but the looks on both of her brothers’ faces when they returned had made a significant impression on her. Even now she felt the fingers of apprehension squeezing her stomach, though it was nothing compared to the apprehension she felt to face who was inside.

Nena took a deep breath and stepped out of the trees to walk the last distance. A guard stepped out of the shadows as she drew near. It was Gentok.

“I have brought water for the prisoner,” she said, without meeting his eyes.

“Set it down. I will give it to him later.”

“Is he awake?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve heard no sounds and have not looked inside since we brought him here.”

“My father has expressed his wishes to be notified as soon as he awakens. I would check on him,” Nena said.

Gentok did not move from in front of the door.

“My father did not order no access to the prisoner, Gentok,” she asserted, and wondered if he would be so reluctant to allow anyone else to pass.

“He said ‘guard carefully’. It was implied,” Gentok responded.

“Do you think I would try to free him?”

“Of course not,” he said as if the idea was ridiculous and had not crossed his mind. “He may try to harm you.”

“I know him. I will come to no harm at his hands.”

Gentok’s expression hardened.

“Gentok, this man saved my life. I would have words with him.”

His face grew hopeful. She knew he took her words as explanation for any feelings he had seen in her eyes before. Owing a life was an acceptable excuse. He took a deep breath, and Nena could see he was wavering.

“You’ll be right here,” she coaxed. “If I need any assistance, I will call you.”

“Very well.” He pushed open the door and stepped aside.

As Nena entered the cell, she was relieved to find Jarl sitting up, leaned against the center roof support pole that he was shackled to. She glanced around the room quickly to familiarize herself with it. There were no windows. The only furniture was a chair and small table near the doorway. She knew Jarl’s chain would not allow him to reach either. They were not put there for the comfort of the prisoners, but for their interrogators. She moved forward with the waterskin to offer him a drink.

“You are the last person I expected to see,” Jarl gasped, after he had drained half of the waterskin without taking a breath.

“No one else will tend you,” she murmured.

“Are they afraid? You can assure them I am quite secure.” Jarl held up his bonds. “So what happens to me now?” he asked.

“I don’t know. My father consults the gods.”

“Will you put in a good word for me?” he teased.

“It would not matter,” she murmured. “You should not have followed me.”

“You should not have run.”

Nena did not respond,