Chapter 12Borg fell to the floor of the stone room, which was painted in streaks of flickering orange light cast by the torch secured to the wall. Wincing, he curled into the pain gouging his ribs as warm blood flowed from the gashes on his brow. The hurried step assured him that his wardens were not yet through.
Forcing a steady breath, he opened a swollen eye. His commander stopped at his feet.
“What did you tell him?” Aaric said.
Borg studied the black markings on the high marshal's neck. The symbols and runes scrawled up to his ear and hair line, making him look far more menacing there in the dungeons.
“Have you no idea how close you are to death, Nidingr?” Aaric said.
“Go to Hel,” Borg spat and Aaric's foot slammed into Borg's face. There was a crack and another wave of pain foll
