My words trailed away, for the individual was gone.
“Who?” Ylva demanded, following my gaze, which led to the empty beach.
“There was a hooded figure walking,” I said. “They…they looked as though they were burning, but I don’t know where they went.”
Ylva made a noise of annoyance. “Silence your tongue, girl. These people died for you—show them some respect.”
My anger flared, because while Gnut might have come to kill me, I wasn’t alone at fault. As guilty as I felt for the deaths and injuries, it still frustrated me that it was not their jarl the people held accountable, for he had failed to protect them despite knowing the threat. Yet none of that seemed to matter, for more and more people cast dark glares in my direction, their bodies tense with anger.
Only for every single one of them to abruptly turn back to the pyres as a wave of heat warmed the back of my neck.
Bjorn stood behind me and to my right, his axe ablaze in one hand, the flat of the blade resting against his bare forearm as though it were made of no more than steel. It was the first time I’d seen him since he’d told Snorri that I was responsible for the drakkar fires, and though I had more pressing concerns, my foolish mind instantly went to the moment on the beach when he’d held me against the cold. A good reminder of why I needed to stay as far away from him as I could.
“Where were you, Bjorn?” Snorri muttered. “You were supposed to light the pyres. You dishonor the dead in your absence.”
“I slept late.” Though there was nothing in his expression or tone to suggest he spoke anything other than the truth, I sensed he was lying. Why?
Snorri’s frown deepened but before he could respond, I said, “There would be thrice their number if not for Bjorn’s actions. The dead know that. As should the living.”
Snorri gave a soft snort, turning back to the pyres, the smoke now rising in a tower that seemed to touch the clouds above. “Tonight we feast to honor the dead,” he roared. “Tomorrow, we make plans for our revenge against Jarl Gnut!”
The people of Halsar howled their approval, warriors lifting their weapons into the air, but as I turned to follow Ylva and Snorri back to the great hall, I still felt the prickle of ill will directed at my back.
“I would speak to you, Freya,” Snorri said as we approached the building. “And you as well, Bjorn.”
My heart skittered with the sudden terror that someone had seen me and Bjorn on the beach or, worse, into my lustful heart, but Bjorn appeared unconcerned. Nodding, he extinguished his axe and strode through the doors into the great hall.
The injured were still being tended, and we walked past the rows of quiet forms and behind the large chairs on the dais before Snorri paused. “We must discuss your actions last night, Freya.”
I held my breath even as Ylva, who’d been silent, snarled, “What must be discussed is her punishment. She defied your orders. Have her beaten for her actions lest she defy you again. She’s supposed to be under your control, but last night demonstrated that she needs a tighter leash.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but Bjorn beat me to it. “If anyone is to be beaten for failing my father’s orders, it’s you, Ylva.”
Wouldn’t that be an interesting turn of events, I thought even as Ylva glared at Bjorn, her eyes bright with anger. “As always, you speak out of turn.”
“I speak the truth,” Bjorn said with a laugh. “My father did not order Freya to remain in the great hall, he ordered you to keep her here. Which you failed to do. Not because she overwhelmed your every attempt to heed your husband’s commands, but, by all accounts, because you failed to notice your shield maiden climbing into the rafters. You should be punished lest your attention wander again.”
“Bjorn…” Snorri’s voice dripped with warning, and indeed, I wanted to kick him in the shins, because all he was accomplishing was making tensions between me and Ylva worse.
“I speak only the truth that has been repeated by all who were here last night,” Bjorn said. “You should be rewarding Freya for following her instincts, else Halsar, and most of its people, would be ash. And Ylva, you should be on your knees thanking her for twisting the threads of fate, else you’d be the cause of all that death.”
If I hadn’t been dripping sweat from the anxiety currently twisting my stomach into ropes, I’d have laughed as Ylva’s eyes widened with outrage.
Snorri rubbed at his temples. “You’ve made your point, Bjorn. As it is, I’ve no intention of beating anyone. Hlin warned us and we failed to take appropriate precaution. I don’t intend to make the mistake of ignoring what else she revealed.”
Bjorn’s face blanched as understanding took hold. “I told you I wouldn’t—”
“Your fate is entwined with Freya’s,” Snorri interrupted. “You are destined to use your strength and skills to protect her. But more than that, you must use them to teach her.”
“I—”
“Freya has proven the gods favor her,” Snorri said. “Yet the people grieve, blaming her for last night’s raid. Some might go so far as to seek vengeance upon her, which you must protect her against. You must also help turn her into a warrior they see as worth following.”
“I know nothing of teaching someone how to fight,” Bjorn snapped. “This is—”
“These are the reasons I asked you here, Bjorn,” Snorri continued. “Not to enjoy the sound of your voice, but because I would have you make her ready. I would have you, my son and heir, make a warrior of our shield maiden. I would have you teach her to fight in a shield wall. And”—he looked between the two of us—“because Hlin foresaw that it would be you who will keep her safe, you will remain at her side, day and night, until she has fulfilled her destiny.”
Bjorn’s green eyes darkened, his hands balled into fists. “This is not my destiny.”
The last vestiges of Snorri’s patience evaporated. “You are my son. You will abide or you will leave. Am I understood?”
For a heartbeat, I thought Bjorn would walk out, and a shocking stab of pain lanced through me. But he only clenched his teeth, the “Fine” that exited between them more growl than word. “Might I have one more night of freedom before you bind me to her?”
“One night,” Snorri snapped. “But at dawn, you will join Freya and never leave her side.”
I closed my eyes, silently cursing the gods for giving me what I wanted even as they took it away.
Scowling, I stared at the sun, which, given it was late morning, was high in the sky. Bjorn was supposed to have been at the great hall an hour after dawn. My morning had been wasted sitting around waiting, and I was thoroughly pissed off.
“Bjorn isn’t much for mornings,” Liv said, coming up from behind me. “The only reason one typically sees him at dawn is because he’s yet to go to bed.”
That didn’t surprise me at all.
Liv, however, had been at the great hall at dawn, checking on the progress of the injured. Despite the gravity of their wounds, several had already departed, fully recovered, while others still suffered. Some, I knew, had never woken up, the goddess Eir having declined to save them. How does she decide? I quietly wondered, rubbing at the fingerprint-shaped bruises on my arms from Snorri shaking me. How does the goddess choose who lives and who dies? But instead of asking Liv the question, I posed another. “You know him well?”
The healer shrugged. “As well as anyone, I suppose. I was raised on a farm north of Halsar, but I didn’t come to serve Snorri until after my gift manifested, which was after Bjorn was taken to Nordeland.”
I blinked. “Nordeland?”