“I am,” I answered and I wasn’t the only one. Norfolk Ravenscroft and Olwen Lazarus, my mother’s cousin and brother respectively, I knew felt the same.

“Would it not be a better use of our resources to focus our energy on crushing the rebellion?” Eirik Drakkar asked as he would. I had learned Frey’s father didn’t mind sending his men into battle although he himself got nowhere near it.

“I am no general,” I answered, schooling my tone to sound respectful. “I simply expressed my wishes to Apollo. I leave the war business to you.”

At this point, Walter Sinclair put in, “Our scouts have not found the witch and I will repeat, I feel we should prioritize this mission. If she has the power to bind our Lavinia and Lavinia tells me her foreign companion’s magic rivals her own, we would be remiss not to seize this witch and claim her instruments for our own.”

“You could send Balthazar and Quincy,” I suggested. “They are both returned and my husband…” I faltered because, suddenly and against my will, my throat filled making my voice husky then I forced myself to rally, recover and I finished swiftly, “told me they are very skilled.”

“They are,” Apollo added, his voice soft. “Frey told me the same.”

“Then dispatch them instantly,” Eirik ordered pompously.

“You forget, Father, that we still skirmish,” Garik stated. “We need every blade we can get and these men of Frey’s are not only skilled at finding things, they are equally skilled with steel.”

“Yes, this is true, Garik,” Olwen Lazarus agreed. “But if we had these instruments and two extremely powerful witches, it might be they could use them to crush the rebellion with no more blood shed on either side.”

“No more blood, yes, no more loss of life, no,” Apollo stated quietly, everyone looked to him and I braced.

Apollo of the House of Ulfr was exceedingly gentle with me in a way that hurt since it reminded me of Frey. He was also exceedingly handsome in a way that also reminded me of Frey with his thick dark hair, big, muscular body and commanding presence (although his eyes were a stunning, pure, jade green).

However, in sitting in these meetings, which Apollo demanded I be included in, I had learned he might be gentle with me but he was not a gentle man.

Not at all.

“Apollo,” Norfolk Ravenscroft said low and Apollo leveled his eyes on the older man.

“They hang, all of them,” he declared.

“These are heads of Houses,” Eirik put in. “Their actions were to unite Lunwyn and we should –”

Apollo turned suddenly burning eyes on Frey’s father and his deep voice was terse when he clipped, “They plotted to murder your daughter-in-law, kidnapped and imprisoned her. They killed your king. They hold your queen captive. And sir, might I remind you, they murdered your son.”

I tried to fight it but, at his words, I couldn’t stop myself from dipping my chin and staring at the rough carpets covering the snow under the tent.

Apollo went on, “He was Our Frey. He was Our Drakkar. The adelas are charred. The elves will never return. The dragons cannot aid us in our plight and will not wake unless Finnie births A Drakkar from Frey’s seed and even if she does, this will take years. And I hope I do not have to remind you of the lives already lost. The heads of those Houses are responsible for this, all of it, and they… will… swing.”

Olwen Lazarus and Norfolk Ravenscroft immediately nodded. It took Walter Sinclair three seconds to agree (I counted). But Eirik Drakkar, who, with every encounter I disliked more and who had lost more than anyone in that tent except me, glared at Apollo for long moments before he finally jerked up his chin.

But what surprised me was when Calder Drakkar muttered, “I claim hangman.”

Then I was again surprised when Garik returned on his own mutter, “No, brother, I kick the lever.”

“There will be enough that you both can share,” Apollo declared then he ordered them, “Go to Balthazar and Quincy. Dispatch them to find the witch, scout the situation and give them leave to commence with capture if they feel it is safe or return if we need to send an outfit.” He turned his eyes to Ravenscroft. “The number of Frey’s Raiders is diminished and those left will remain here for the princess’s protection but you have skilled Raiders amongst your troops. Chose those most stealthy to go forth and secure our queen. She, like our princess, grieves and it is our duty to see to it she grieves amongst those who can offer her comfort, not alone and captive in an enemy camp.”

“Hear, hear,” Olwen Lazarus murmured, my eyes moved to him, I smiled and upon receiving it, my (kind of) uncle smiled back.

Apollo swept his eyes through the group and stated quietly, “Let us not delay,” which I was learning was his way of suggesting people do what he said when he said it and telling them he was not pleased when they didn’t.

Something else that reminded me of Frey.

Therefore the men in the tent didn’t hesitate further but filed out, Garik and Calder doing so after nodding to me and I smiled at them, pleased at their show of loyalty for their brother and Lunwyn and saddened he’d never know they’d shown it. Eirik, as usual, didn’t look at me which didn’t bother me, I didn’t like his eyes on me anyway. Ravenscroft, Sinclair and Lazarus stopped to mutter polite words to me before taking their leave.

I watched the flaps of the tent swing closed behind Olwen then I stood, looked into Apollo’s remarkable (it had to be said because they truly were) green eyes and whispered, “I should get back to the wounded.”

He crossed his arms on his chest and studied me. Then he said softly, “Finnie, we’ve not had a skirmish in days. Their wounds are healing and not one of them requires your constant attention.”

“They bled for my son,” I reminded him.

“They bled for Lunwyn,” he corrected me.

I pressed my lips together and nodded because he was right.

He continued to study me. Then he pulled a breath in through his nose, closed his eyes and turned his head to the side and when he did this, I studied him for this was unusual for Apollo. He rarely showed emotion and the only emotion I’d ever seen him show was gentleness to me.

And, sometimes, anger.

But now he looked conflicted.

Then he opened his eyes and looked back at me.

“It is early,” he said gently, “for you, too early for such talk. For Lunwyn, however, it is not and therefore it must be said. But I have concerns, concerns I discussed with Lazarus and Ravenscroft, concerns they share.”