Chapter 12: The Tree

Ingrith pulled on her dress and ran down the stairs before Kaelor could stop her.

She burst into the courtyard with the chain trailing behind her and a kitchen knife in her fist.

The cold bit her bare feet.

"Mother!"

Hrodmar swung his horse around.

His right hand was still black to the shoulder, frozen and useless.

In his left he held a shard of dark ice, and he pressed it to the furs that covered the sled.

"One step," he said. "And it goes through her heart."

Ingrith stopped.

Behind her, Kaelor came down the stairs in his black coat, unhurried.

"Careful," he said softly. "You have already lost one hand."

"I will lose the other for her," Hrodmar said. "Give me the girl. I will lift the curse, and go."

"You cursed her."

"I did it so Aldric would be afraid enough to pay."

"You admit it?"

"In front of this household? Gladly. They will know who to fear."

Ingrith looked at the faces along the courtyard walls.

Cooks, grooms, the smith's boy.

They were staring at Hrodmar.

"Everyone heard that," she said clearly. "Every one of you."

"I have no need to hide it," Hrodmar said.

"Now choose, little queen. Come to me and your mother lives. Stay with him and she dies."

Ingrith's mouth went dry.

She looked at the sled.

A small gloved hand had come out from under the furs.

It was clutching a glass vial.

The vial glowed.

It was pure silver, and Ingrith knew what it was before the hand moved.

Her mother's thumb pressed the stopper out.

Her mother took one long drink.

The shard in Hrodmar's fist split with a crack.

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