The Hunger of the Gods (The Bloodsworn Saga, #2)

by John Gwynne

Ambition is overrated.

yes, I am a prince of Iskidan,” Sulich

He uses the fact that I am Tainted, with Hauker the hawk in my blood, to legitimise his hunt for me.

Jaromir has a twin brother, Rurik.

Is my ungrateful daughter still in your band of misfits, or has she moved on to leech from some new host?” A silence filled the room, all looking at Elvar as she stepped forward a pace. “Agnar is dead and the Battle-Grim have a new chief,” Elvar said as she pushed the hood of her bearskin cloak back. “Hello, Father.”

“Here it comes,” Røkia shouted. She glanced back at Varg and his spearhead. “Watch where you go stabbing that thing.”

“I would cross the oceans of the world for you,” he said, stroking her cheek with a slabbed hand. “Only death would stop me.”

“I would not interfere in what is obviously a family dispute,” Hjalmar said, a wry smile twisting his lips.

“No,” Harek said. “They’re liars. All of them. That’s what Lik-Rifa said.” “She’s the liar,” Breca snarled, more venom than Orka had ever seen in him. Harek took a step back and opened his mouth. “ENEMIES,” he yelled, “ENEMIES IN THE CAMP.”

“It is gone,” Guðvarr said. “What?” Skalk frowned. “How?” “She smelled it in me,” Guðvarr said, eyes flickering up to Lik-Rifa in the skies above them. “What did you expect? She created the hyrndur, created all the vaesen. They are her children.”

Live, my Breca, was her last thought before the blue, frost-tinged darkness took her.