East of the Sun

Chapter 9

Bryn glared at the ring beneath the make-shift table, which consisted of several old planks and roofing ties bound together in a neat construction. The ring—still attached to her finger like a starving wolf on a venison steak—glared back with all the power of its evil silver glint. She eyed the deceptively simple pattern of decorative knots.

Probably to lure unsuspecting beggars into a sense of false security, thus convincing them to place the cursed thing on an important body part. Nothing would loosened the ring of terror. Worse, with the tarnish scraped off the Gods cursed thing glittered in any hint of sunshine. Skuld had nearly caught a glimpse twice, and she'd only been awake for an hour. Having spent the majority of the night working at removing the thing. She began to identify with trapped creatures who gnawed their own limbs off.

"Eww. Bryn why do you smell like old fish oil?" Eydis scooted her crate away from the corner Bryn had commandeered and made dramatic gagging noises. Brat. Bryn glowered at her, but the little troll only intensified her performance.

"Did you not know? This is our Bryn's natural scent." Víðarr strode behind her and 'accidentally' knocked the back of her head with his elbow.

She couldn't even rub the wound without flashing her troubles to the whole family.

"Enough," Skuld ordered, snapping their wayward siblings into behaving. For a moment the room fell quiet, somehow Skuld held that kind of power in the family. She supposed because since their mother's death six years ago he was really the second parent. Only the sounds of chewing, and shuffling bodies dared defy his decree. But the quiet did not hide the amusement lighting the young faces.

The jovial mood could be attributed to the sudden abundance of food. Everyone was happier with a full belly, and there had been enough skause left from the evening meal to make a hearty breakfast.

Bryn took the reprieve to focus on her finger once more, blocking the soft murmurs that her siblings soon took up. The digit had turned red from all the yanking and prying, and in several places she had broken skin with her failed attempts. It was swollen too.

It turned out the wedge wasn't a good idea. She had figured if she just got a new object between the ring and her finger the cursed band would latch onto that.

Across the table Skuld watched her with deep concern. His grey eyes dark with some unreadable thought. A frown tugged at his lips. For a moment she didn't see the brother she knew, but a man grown. One handsome enough to have women vying to be his mate, if only he were able to provide.

Guilt wallowed through her and she frowned. He might manage a family if it weren't for her and the little ones. Skuld was a talented carver, they both knew he could easily gain apprenticeship with either of the wood-smith guilds in Skrattafell, but for one thing. Apprentices were not paid, only provided room and board until they mastered their craft. The family would starve without Skuld, and he knew it.

A hard pull drove her hand upward, rapping her knuckles harshly on the rough board that made up the corner where she sat. Skin split painfully and she cried out in surprise.

"Bryn? Are you alright?" Skuld asked, half risen and leaning across from her, his brows raised in concern.

"Aghh... yes, just accidentally..." decided to play smashsies? Was curious what her knuckle bones looked like? "...Hurt myself." She finished lamely.

Skuld frowned. Again.

"Really, I'm alright, just..."

Another tug threatened, but this time she was prepared. Her hand did not make it far off of her lap before she forced it down again. Of course she twitched as though she had a palsy.