Chapter Forty-Five: Loyal or Traitorous?

It was clear that Ralph’s relationship with the families of the two Jarls was incompatible; a choice had to be made.

Viewing the situation through the lens of cold interest, Oni deliberated and decided to stand with Ralph. To her, the families of Frederick and Ludwig held no substantial value, whereas her Huscarls were her own loyal kin.

"Robert, send word to the families of Ludwig and Frederick. Tell them to come here at once," Oni commanded.

Robert departed to carry out the order. Oni recalled that she had previously invited them to attend Ralph’s duel, but they had not appeared, clearly lacking trust in her. She surmised that upon receiving this new summons, they would likely view it as a trap and choose to flee.

Yes, flee. In Oni’s eyes, she was a force beyond their reach. Without knowing her true intentions, they would certainly not walk willingly into the lion’s den. Under such circumstances, they would not only refuse the invitation but would also attempt to put as much distance as possible between themselves and this perceived risk.

If, however, they were cunning enough to convince themselves they were safe and chose to submit to her will by appearing as instructed, she would have no choice but to act. Such insight would prove they were a threat to her rule, and anyone possessing it would have to be placed on her hit list.

Lost in thought, Oni settled her wounded, returned to her bedroom, and sat before her vanity mirror. Gazing at her reflection in the silver glass, she felt as though she were looking at a decaying skeleton. She slowly closed her eyes, allowing the rot to spread within her, clearing her mind of all distractions. As the years passed, the dormant desires of her youth grew ever more intense, yet she knew these urges would only serve as obstacles to her path forward.

When she lay down in bed and pulled the quilt over herself, Harold called out to her. Habitually, she reached out a hand to him where he slept on the floor. This had been their routine every day for a year; she had never once felt there was anything amiss. Suddenly, a strange expression crossed her face. In her past life, she had believed that exchanging saliva would lead to pregnancy, and she assumed that Harold, in his simple-minded state, likely believed the same—or something even more absurd. Yet, this suited her perfectly; it was better for everyone, and she rather enjoyed the solitude.

Solitude was the fate of a ruler.

"Harold, do you remember where Field is?" Oni turned on her side, her enchanting eyes fixed on Harold, whose face resembled bleached bone.

"Buried, buried. Remember, lots of blood. No eyes! The birds ate the eyes!" Harold answered with a vacant, simple smile.

A pang of grief struck her heart. Field, whom she could never bring herself to scold, had been picked apart by ravens after his death.

"Will you take me to find him next year?" Oni stroked Harold’s head.

"Yes, I’ll be good, I’ll listen!" Harold’s performance of a simpleton grew ever more masterful; he had progressed from uttering simple words to a practiced art.

Oni let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes, finally at ease. She had been terrified that Harold might forget the exact location, forcing her to confirm it with him periodically.

...

Two Huscarl riders were dispatched into the night, galloping toward Fjordheim and Lindholm to deliver Oni’s invitation to the families of Ludwig and Frederick, ordering them to Skalvik.

Ludwig’s eldest daughter, his wife, and his youngest son exchanged nervous glances. The eldest daughter removed her gold bracelet and slipped it quietly to the weary Huscarl rider, asking, "Did Lady Oni mention what this is about?"

"The Lady did not say. She only told you to come," the rider hesitated, eventually succumbing to the temptation and sliding the bracelet into his pocket. "However, Lord Ralph was victorious in the public duel sanctioned by Lady Oni. If you have kin in other territories, I suggest you flee to them as soon as possible." He added, "Lord Duti, I must return to report. I said nothing!"

"Thank you!" Ludwig’s eldest daughter bowed slightly, her voice filled with gratitude. "We shall never forget your kindness."

The rider said no more, returned the gesture, mounted his horse, and began a slow, deliberate ride back.

"Polly, what are we to do?" Ludwig’s wife clutched her daughter’s hand, her voice trembling with tears. "Will she kill us?"

"Sister, I don't want to die! I haven't even inherited the Jarlship yet!" the youngest son cried out in terror.

They watched as Polly shook her head, her tone firm. "We cannot escape! The Chieftain’s Lady and her terrifying men will eventually receive orders to conquer other lands. She is too cunning; I do not believe they can stand against her. We would not be able to hide forever!"

"Then what are we to do? We have only just begun to enjoy the life of nobility; I do not want to lose all this!" The Jarl’s wife, having grown accustomed to luxury, collapsed to the ground and sobbed.

Polly pulled her up and turned to her brother, instructing him gravely: "We must go. Mayas, remember, do not think of revenge, and do not show a hint of hostility. When we arrive, you must weep—weep as loudly as you can!"

"I understand, sister!"

Polly brought her mother and brother onto the carriage and set off toward Skalvik, her heart heavy with dread.

In Lindholm, Frederick’s family consisted only of his eldest son and two wives. They did not attempt to bribe the rider, which left the exhausted, irritable man dissatisfied. He told them nothing, delivering only a cold, brief command before departing. Upon receiving the order, the family fell into a panic, spending the night packing their treasures and fleeing toward Svitalson, one of the three major towns on the island of Gotland.

...

The next day, after freshening up, Oni received the report from her Huscarls. She learned that Ludwig’s family had arrived, but Frederick’s had vanished, and the rider sent to Lindholm had filed a harsh complaint against them.

Listening to the rider’s grievances, Oni suppressed her murderous intent and warmly received the tear-streaked, wailing Polly and her family.

"My Lady, my father is dead, and the men of our territory have followed him into the grave; we cannot survive on our own. As your vassals, we beg you to take us in and reclaim our lands. We are willing to offer you all our treasures. We ask for nothing but to live!"

Watching Polly kneeling and pleading, a flicker of unease rose in Oni’s heart. She felt her plan to eradicate the bloodline might have been excessive, and her conscience pricked her—she felt, for a moment, like a villain. Yet, she found it strange that they had not mentioned Ralph at all.

The sound of the child’s crying reminded her of herself a year ago, stirring her emotions. She asked with a hint of suspicion, "The man who killed your father is still alive. Do you seek vengeance?"

Polly felt a jolt of alarm. She looked up, studying Oni’s expression. "We do not hate him. My father held grievances against you, and we tried to persuade him otherwise many times. After all, our family are your vassals; it was you who bestowed our lands upon us. But my father would not listen..."

Oni frowned. She had expected them to show a desire for revenge, or perhaps a forced rejection of it. In either case, if they had seemed disingenuous, she would have had them killed. Yet, they treated Ludwig’s death as a consequence of his own folly and showed no desire to harbor hatred. This sincere response made it difficult for her to judge their true loyalty.

What now? To kill or not to kill? Would she be making a mistake?

Oni fell into silence, her fingers drumming against the armrest, each tap echoing like a heartbeat against the soul of the kneeling Polly.