In time, the warriors explained why they had come to the abbey.
“There is a mage who feeds on the magic of spaewives,” Thorsteinn said. “He was coming for you and the other spaewives in the abbey.”
My face must’ve shown confusion, for Vik laughed and explained, “A spaewife is a woman with magic.” He tugged a lock of my hair, chuckling when I pushed his hand away.
“Like a witch?” I asked. The friar had spoken against witches.
“Different magic,” Vik said.
Thorsteinn continued, “The mage married many women and grew in power until one of his wives rose up and bound him for a thousand years. The spell wore off, and now he has returned.”
“We call him the Corpse King,” Vik said. Both warriors looked grim, their hands going to their weapons as if checking to make sure they were still armed.
