Another axe sailed at Wyrn’s face, and he dodged that one as well. Bonn wasn’t as fortunate.

Without thinking, Wyrn grabbed at the air. The blade a mere breath away from Bonn’s nose, trembled—or rather, Wyrn did.

The fight breaking out all around them should have been their focus but instead, Wyrn allowed his eyes to travel from the ornate wooden hilt of the axe he’d caught and land on Bonn’s surprised expression.

After a few failed attempts at speaking, Bonn awoke from his daze and stomped into the center of the shop.

Dwarfs. These were experts at knife-throwing. Catching a dwarf with a sword wasn’t hard but rarely did they allow anyone that close.

They’d never encountered an enraged Jaffo. Bonn’s battle cry had many freezing to take stock. Once Bonn caught hold of the desk and yanked it up and over from its perch, everyone got cooperative in no time.

Bonn stomped one foot again and again—feeding into the rage.

The first dwarf to wisely lower his throwing-axes met eyes with the other ten of his colleagues who followed suit.

By now, all six of Wyrn’s brothers seethed, shoulders drawn up as they fed into the fury as well.

“All right, Jaffo,” the dwarf with the silver beard spat, “we’ll readjust the amount. No need to be unreasonable.”

He spoke to Bonn but as the man in question huffed and puffed without responding, the dwarf, reluctantly, had to deal with Wyrn—the only one able to control the fury at will.

Face skinned up, the dwarf met eyes with him but lowered his gaze again. “Call them off.”

Gone were the measured words of respect. Wyrn thought to refuse the command. With his brothers like this, there wouldn’t be a workshop left.

But as Wyrn studied the little men with their very sharp weapons, all more than likely to be slaughtered in short order should Wyrn’s brothers set in motion, Wyrn felt sadness.

They were afraid, but before that, they’d been offended.

Instead of giving his brothers a command, Wyrn marched to the fallen counter and reached behind it for the two bags of wheat rather than one he’d received originally.

Wyrn hurled the first bag at Bonn who caught it one handed despite Wyrn having used two.

In the silence to follow, all brothers looked to Wyrn for guidance, and he gave off a nod. The fury would take time to fade and until it did, no one could speak.

One by one, his brothers marched out of that dank room.

There were three wagons for all seven of them. Wyrn took the lead. Until his brothers came to their senses, no matter where Wyrn went, they’d follow, even in a fight.

Wyrn mulled over that as the two donkeys dragged them down the dirt road.

The wagon bobbed side to side as they entered the valley—their father’s domain. Here, everything felt safe—felt fair and calm.

“You’re too gentle….”

Surprised to see Bonn out of the trance so quickly, Wyrn glanced at him.

“You should have let us teach him a lesson,” Bonn grumbled.

Maybe. But what good would that have done? Wyrn found himself touching his smooth chin.

Bonn anticipated his train of thought. “Having a beard of your own wouldn’t have mattered. Dwarfs are old. They can’t respect the young. That’s all.”

That wasn’t all and Bonn knew it. They hadn’t been insulted because Wyrn was the youngest; they’d been insulted that he had no grit to him. He hadn’t looked any of them in the eye.

“You should have let us loose,” Bonn said.

The Jaffo way of fighting was risky. Send nearly everybody into the fury with few, usually the leader, as the only one able to control them.

Good for fighting—terrible for all else.

Wyrn hadn’t thought the title of lead would ever be his. And until he’d married, it never would have been.

This was his first chance to use it and it was all squandered. The night stretched out before them. A chill filled the air, but it filled them as well.

“What’s wrong with you?” Wyrn asked at length. Bonn was one of their strongest. He wasn’t the sort to lose focus. “An axe nearly got you in the face.”

Dwarfs could aim anywhere, but most started with the highest point.

“I’m….” Bonn hesitated then confessed, “I’m just distracted.”

“It was an axe. What do you mean distracted?”

After a long while, Bonn admitted, “Sometimes…I think about giving up.”

His soft words alarmed Wyrn who looked at him. Bonn wouldn’t return his gaze. Wyrn slowed the wagon. He looked behind him to see all five brothers, even the two leading their own carts, still in the trance.

When Wyrn’s eyes landed on Bonn again, he had to admit the truth, there was not a trace of it. Without the will to fight, there was nothing to hold the rage.

“Why?” Bonn shed a tear.

The action was so sudden that Wyrn wasn’t sure what to do.

“I served the goddess. Never failed to say the prayer, to give the offering. Dalin did, too. She was so proud that we’d get a child. Every day, sunup to sundown, I was so happy. So…why? I want to ask The Living Goddess why. What had I done wrong? That was the only Jaffo birth to fail in all our time serving her.” His breath caught and he stifled a sob. “Hadn’t I served her well? And will it happen again? Will it happen to you? Or just to me?”

Wyrn held his shoulder. “Father’ll—”

“Father’ll just drink until he doesn’t have to think about it.”

Defeated, Wyrn lowered his hand. This was Bonn, someone he admired. He wanted to argue but feared the answer. This wasn’t the first time Bonn acted out of sorts. After losing his wife and child, he’d been inconsolable. Mother and Father had feared for him. Shaza’s interest had been no secret. In fact, she’d been on her way out—rejected by the Jaffo. And then that day came, and she’d been the only one to reach him.

That was why people tolerated her now—perhaps that was why Bonn himself tolerated her. Father felt indebted to her. Mother simply tried to make the best of it.

And Bonn? Some days he seemed back to normal. While other days, he’d act strangely—miss a step, swing the hammer wrong.

When they arrived home, the wives greeted them.

Mother was especially pleased. “From the dwarfs? Really? They hadn’t charged extra?”

Several brothers muttered an answer without giving too much detail. Bonn sat on the wagon for some time, staring at the ground. As something of a rarity, Shaza approached with caution then held his shoulder then neck. They stood together there until Bonn snaked his right arm around her waist and pulled her close.

For Wyrn, something else drew his focus—the princess who waved him hello.

Wyrn opened his mouth to greet her but nothing came of it. She wore a pleased smile. Among the seven wives, Vadde stood out.

She shouldn’t have. Her dress matched all the others. The size and shape of her basket in her left hand was no different. And yet, something was special about her.

Perhaps it was her smile. Wyrn thought about approaching her but changed his mind. All around them, couples broke off. Bonn stepped down from the wagon and allowed his wife to lead him home.

The princess? She gave Wyrn a smile then said, “I’ll just wash up, shall I? Then I’ll meet you for dinner.”

Everyone unpacked the wagon, but Mother stepped beside Wyrn and watched after her. “Is she going to help with dinner?”

Wyrn sighed. “She doesn’t understand it’s expected. I’ll explain it to her tomorrow.”

The last bag of grain in hand, Wyrn made his way into the kitchen, Mother followed behind him.

He’d been expecting that. The hand on his shoulder was also something he saw coming.

Mother asked, “And why hadn’t you explained it to her right away?”

She knew why—she must have known.

Wyrn put the grain down against the wall by the door and turned to leave.

“Is it worth what you’re risking?”

Mother’s soft voice had Wyrn closing his eyes.

For weeks now, he’d hoped to avoid this.

“She’s just not accustomed to everyone’s expectations. It’s harmless.”

When his mother approached this time, she held his shoulder. “I want this for you. You must know that. Like a fool, I dug up bitter roots for days to feed her, not caring what sort of crazed creature she was at the time.”

A scoff left Wyrn despite himself.

“But it’s been long enough now. Look at her. She’s good natured, yes. And she doesn’t cause mischief like Shaza. And at least she likes your company. And that’s good. But—but I’m not sure she’s suited for this type of life. It’s a hard thing living with the Jaffos. We wake up with the sun, and we give praise to the stars. A day of work isn’t something we avoid, it’s something we invite.” With a squeeze of his shoulder, she reminded him, “Serving The Living Goddess can ome at a steep price.”

She said it, the one thing Wyrn refused to think about.

He faced forward once again. His intention was to leave but his feet wouldn’t obey him.

“You see her lack of effort as a sign of her insincerity in becoming one of us,” Wyrn challenged.

Nothing.

His mother didn’t even offer him an empty assurance.

That meant she’d thought about this and what she said next proved as much.

“The first tournament—the original one.”

“So you’ve secured me a new wife?” Wyrn shrugged her off. “And do I have a say in the matter?”

Mother’s expression hardened, “I only ask that you keep in mind that there are other options.”

When he could no longer meet eyes with her, she struggled with something to say.

Finally, she tried to sound lighter. “But till then, we’ll follow tradition and see how it goes with Vadde.” She held his shoulder before he could walk away. “Wyrn?”

Wyrn hadn’t told the princess of her mistakes because he was very much like his mother in hating to call someone’s efforts useless. He could see that now. Because that was what his mother meant with this talk—Wyrn’s efforts were likely useless.

And that would have been fine if they weren’t potentially deadly.

“Is that what bothers Bonn?” Wyrn asked her. “Does he think he brought his wife bad luck?”

The gasp was soft but came with a strangled, “No. No. He knows better than that.” Mother’s voice cracked. “She loved him. And he loved her. Neither of them did anything wrong. Even your father has told him this.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes, and Wyrn begged her, “Please tell him that again.”

Energy adequately sapped, his mother nodded. She forced a smile and changed her tune about Vadde, “All right, then let’s give your new bride the benefit of the doubt.” She hesitated. “But after a year—”

“When she leaves, I won’t stop her.”

He got as far as the doorway when she called, “Wyrn?”

Damn. She wasn’t giving up on the other potential bride. But politics were politics and that woman might not wait for a year.

With a sigh, he glanced back at her and nodded. “If you think it hopeless—”

“No.” His mother was quick to add, “No. It’s not hopeless. I’m just worrying myself sick for no reason. I apologize. You have my support. Always. I—I mean well.”

Despite her heart turning away from The Living Goddess, Mother feared going against the Jaffo way. It was a simple life, but one that was steady. They served the goddess, she provided them long life. Should they go against her, she’d go against them. But Bonn had been faithful and so was his wife, so why did he suffer such a loss despite his ardent faith at the time? As Wyrn stepped out into the tepid night air, he asked himself how staunchly he himself believed. What did that mean for Vadde?

And if Bonn wasn’t the one to blame for what happened…who was?