Ragnar remained asleep. Deep exhaustion had rendered him, normally a light sleeper, completely oblivious to his surroundings.
But through the haze of sleep, Ragnar heard it again. A feminine voice. The same voice that had reached him before.
This time, however, it was clearer. Not enough to fully rouse him but enough that fragments of her words slipped through the fog clouding his mind.
"Fala said you finally woke up today. I wish I had been there. I wish none of this had ever happened to begin with. My son, how many times has this happened? How many times have they sent you out to die?"
***
"What do you mean he is nowhere to be found?"
Nheera's voice sliced through the air as she spun sharply to level Dougol with her most lethal glare. Her eyes burned with a volatile mix of fury and disbelief, sharp enough to frighten even the most hardened of men.
"How," she continued, each word lanced with her rising anger, "did you lose sight of him long enough for him to simply vanish?"
