Ensnared (Knights of Brethren #3)(49)

“I seek Sven’s freedom.”

“Sven?”

Had he already forgotten about his slave? “I would like to make an exchange in order to break the curse and gain freedom for Sven.”

“I will do anything for you, lady.” He didn’t take his blinking gaze from me.

“What exchange will you accept as fair?”

“Anything.”

I’d expected him to demand that I stay with him the rest of my life and become his slave in Sven’s place. I hadn’t given myself time to think through the repercussions of such an exchange. All I’d known was that for once, I’d been given an opportunity to do something tangible to make a difference. I had the possibility of setting Sven free from the nightmare he’d existed in for endless years. And in setting Sven free, I also had the chance to set my people free from Bernhard’s reign.

I suspected Bernhard wouldn’t easily relinquish his position. With Sven’s facial scars, the people would likely be afraid of him. But I had to hold out hope that somehow, some way, Gunnar would be able to wrest the earldom from Bernhard and give it to Sven.

“We need to stall the jotunn for a few more minutes,” came Sven’s low voice from somewhere in the brush behind me. “Long enough to give my nephew time to escape with his servant.”

I breathed out my relief that Gunnar was leaving with Frans. With their injuries, the trek out of the forest would be difficult, and they would need all the extra time we could provide for them.

A moment later, Sven parted the branches and stepped into the light beside me. “Offer him something of great value.”

The jotunn didn’t take his attention from me, almost as if Sven were invisible. Nanna’s warning reverberated through my mind, that the more invisible a person remained, the safer he or she would be. I understood that she’d only wanted to protect me, but I couldn’t remain invisible any longer.

I had to do whatever it took to free Sven. But what did I have that was of great value? I had nothing except the knife Gunnar had given me. And . . .

My hand dropped to my pocket and my fingers found the lump inside—the shell that had once belonged to my twin sister Maiken.

I immediately hid my hand behind my back again. I couldn’t give it up. It wouldn’t mean anything to this jotunn even if it meant everything to me. Surely I could think of something else to give him.

“You are so pretty, lady.” He spoke just as gently as before.

Would he accept a lock of my hair? My cloak? My shoes? But even as I went through the list of possibilities, my mind circled back to the treasure in my pocket. Even though the jotunn said he would accept anything, I suspected the worth depended upon what it meant to the bearer of the item rather than its monetary value.

“I will give you the thing that is most important to me.”

“You will?” The jotunn’s voice contained hope, as if he truly desired the gift.

Beside me, Sven shifted, no doubt ready to act if I gave something he didn’t approve of.

“Yes.” I took a deep breath and willed myself to have courage. “’Tis the one thing I have kept with me every day of my life and have never parted with.”

“Anything, lady.”

I handed the torch to Sven, then slipped my hand through the slit in my skirt and found the pocket I wore underneath. I reached inside and let my fingers settle around the smooth, worn mussel shell. It was my last connection with my twin sister.

It was the only thing of hers I had. She’d given it to me the spring day Nanna had come down from Likness Castle to take me away to work with her in the nursery when I’d been but a girl of five.

Huddled on the dirt floor of our hovel, Maiken and I had been listless with hunger, hardly able to move to keep warmth in our limbs. As Nanna had ducked into the dank one-room hut, she’d passed by Mother lying on a pallet cradling Kirstin, trying to keep her warm.

Father hadn’t been home, had been gone with other villeins to find extra work along the docks in exchange for fish.

Nanna stopped in front of the two of us. She crouched and brushed first Maiken’s cheek, then mine, studying us. “My assistant nursemaid has died, and I’ve been given permission to bring one of my granddaughters into service.”

Her eyes held a sadness I didn’t understand at the time.

“Take Mikaela.” My mother pushed up to her elbow. “Maiken is stronger, and I have need of her help here.”

As the second-born twin, I’d always been more petite than my sister, weaker, sicker.

“Are you well, Mikaela?” Nanna asked, this time feeling my forehead.

I stifled a cough that tickled my throat. I wanted to go with Nanna to the castle, where I would be away from the cold and hunger. So, even though I felt miserable, I nodded.

Nanna shifted to Maiken. “And you, Maiken. Are you well?”

My sister tightened her arms around me and squeezed me hard. She had always been sturdy, never getting sick, never complaining, never suffering the way I did. She gave a pretend cough. “No, Nanna. You must take Mikaela.”

Nanna studied us both again, sighed, and then held out a hand to me. “Come, Mikaela.”

I rose, but before I could extricate myself from Maiken’s embrace, she pressed something into my hands. When I felt the smooth shape, I tried to give it back to her. Although blue mussel shells lined the shores of every part of Norvegia’s coast, this was a rare purple one, believed to act as a shield of protection to the one who possessed it. Maiken had discovered it last spring after the snowmelt. And she’d kept it close ever since.