“What are you looking at?” Ciaran asked.
“Just watching the sea...and waiting. For the thunder to strike.”
Ciaran shrugged. “Didn’t you look at the dawn? There will be no storm tonight,” he said. “Besides, lightning strikes, not thunder.”
“That you know of,” Brenna said, and there was something ominous in her tone. “You should go to bed, and I...should train.”
“I thought I ought to run away,” Ciaran said.
Brenna glanced at him as she sheathed her sword. “You should. You’ll not stand a chance when Odin’s Warriors come calling to send your people to Valhalla and Hel.”
No comments:
Post a Comment