19
Yseult
Our march to the king’s chambers took little time. All along the halls, Berserkers lined the way. I saw Gaul and a few of his followers scowling at me, but most of the faces were watchful, waiting.
At the gilt doors, Tristan halted. I turned with him to face my honor guard. “We go on from here alone.”
Lars, Ivar, and Magnus all looked worried.
“I will be fine,” I told them. At least I knew what I would face. The Corpse King might try to seduce me. If that failed he would try to use his magic to overwhelm me. He could easily rape my mind, leave me his slave, a shell of a woman he could use to bear his sons. He would absorb my spaewife magic if he could.
Somehow, I would fight.
Tristan guided me to the doors, which drew open without a touch and set the shadows whispering.
F
