One of Liv’s eyebrows rose, then she shook her head. “I forget how things are in a small village, not knowing any of the events going on more than an hour’s ride in any direction.” She sighed. “There are days I’d give anything to go back to a life of blissful ignorance.”
From someone else, namely Ylva, the words would have felt like an insult, but not from Liv. She was merely telling it as it was, not casting judgment. “I’d prefer not to be ignorant in this.”
She gave a slight nod. “King Harald of Nordeland heard of the foretelling and, knowing a united Skaland would pose a danger to him, came to Halsar to kidnap Bjorn. He intended to hold him hostage so that Snorri would never move against Nordeland. Bjorn’s mother was killed during the kidnapping. Burned alive, they say.”
I pressed my fingers to my mouth, horrified.
“Snorri attempted to free Bjorn many times. But it was not until three years ago that he succeeded, and it was at great cost in ships and men. Yet well worth it, for Harald lost his hostage and Snorri regained the son whose magic had the power to reveal the shield maiden. Though there are some who wish he’d never returned.”
“Ylva?” The lady of Halsar’s name rose easily to my lips.
Liv sighed. “Yes. Snorri was handfasted to Ylva when Bjorn was conceived with Saga during a moment of indiscretion. Though Ylva now has a son by him, as firstborn, Bjorn remained his heir. Status which he couldn’t claim as Harald’s prisoner.”
I twitched, remembering the night of the wedding, how Ylva had said she couldn’t stand Snorri being with another woman again. The first instance must have been Bjorn’s mother, and it had cost Ylva greatly.
“Ylva’s son is alive, then?” I asked. “If he is, why haven’t I met him?”
Liv nodded. “Leif is fifteen. He’s on a hunting expedition with his cousins, though I expect he’ll return soon enough. Snorri needs warriors more than Halsar needs meat.”
This revelation explained the animosity between Bjorn and Ylva. “When Bjorn returned, he regained his status as heir?”
“Yes.” Liv sat next to me on the bench, fixing her skirts. “But Leif has spent his whole life in Halsar and is Ylva’s son, so there are many who’d prefer him to be Snorri’s heir.”
“But it’s Bjorn’s birthright,” I said, not certain why I felt so defensive.
Liv smirked. “I see the flirt has won you over, though perhaps seeing the other side of his personality will cure you of that.”
She jerked her chin toward the front of the hall, and I turned in time to watch Bjorn trip over the entranceway, nearly sprawling to the floor before catching his balance. Liv laughed, but my eyes only burned, because nothing about this was funny. Quite the opposite.
“You’re late,” I snapped at the same time as Liv said, “I hope you feel half as bad as you look, Bjorn.”
He ignored me and grinned at her. “Not yet, but soon enough.”
His meaning registered and a rush of anger surged through me. “Are you still drunk?”
“Not as drunk as I was.” He turned his grin on me, but the straw stuck in his hair ruined the effect. That and the fact that I was angry enough to kick him in the balls. “Don’t give me that look, Freya,” he added. “I was only doing my best to enjoy my final hours of liberty before my father chains me to your side.”
I balled my hands into fists, hating the hollowness forming in my stomach. “Your liberty ended several hours ago.”
His gaze flattened. “And it already feels like eternity.”
I rolled my eyes to hide the hitch in my breath, because his behavior stung. More than anyone in Halsar, I’d felt connected to him. He’d shown me kindness and respect and had defended me against Ylva. But it seemed all of that didn’t matter as much as I’d thought. At least, not to him. “Get over it.”
“As pleasant as this conversation is”—Liv rose to her feet—“I’ve better things to do than watch you two bicker.”
Bjorn parroted her words as she walked away, which I was tempted to point out only proved them, but then he rounded on me. “Well? Are you ready?”
Don’t let him get to you, I screeched at myself. Don’t you dare give him the satisfaction. So through my teeth, I said, “Where do you wish to conduct my training?”
“Given you’re likely to fall on your arse many times, we’ll go somewhere less muddy,” he said. “The docks will do if you can manage not to fall in the water.”
Don’t let him—
Fuck him. I wasn’t going to take this behavior quietly. “I’m not the one struggling to stand steady on a flat floor.”
He huffed out an amused breath. “We shall see who makes it to the end of the lesson without getting wet.” Then he winked.
A fiery hot blush raced up my chest to my face. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not some simpering maid whose thighs turn slick just because an idiot man winks at her.”
One of the servants walking by heard my words and gaped. Bjorn gave her an apologetic smile. “I was talking about the fjord, Freya.” Then he shook his head. “Such a filthy mind you have. I think I’ll be most corrupted by our time together.”
The servant looked back and forth between us, then hurried off. If I hadn’t so recently discovered what it felt like for flesh to burn, I would have sworn my entire body was aflame.
“Let’s go,” Bjorn said, “before you fill my virtuous mind with any more talk of slick thighs and hard nipples.”
“I said nothing about nipples, you drunk idiot,” I hissed, picking up the two shields I’d secured and scampering after him.
Bjorn threw up his hands. “You see, Freya? Already you are influencing me, and I’ve only been in your company a matter of minutes. What sordid things will my tongue come up with after an hour with you? A day? A year? You will be the ruin of my virtue.”
“The only thing that you need worry about is me cutting out your tongue if you don’t shut up,” I snapped, then stomped ahead of him down to the water, not caring that mud splattered my new trousers or that my shirt was already damp with nervous sweat.
“From most people that would be an empty threat,” he answered, “but you’re a woman who keeps her word, so I will guard my tongue.”
I didn’t think that meant he’d any intention of keeping silent.
The dock would normally be busy with fishermen and merchants coming and going, but today it was silent as a grave, the people of Halsar instead engaged with rebuilding the homes that had been lost to fires set by Gnut’s men.
My feet made echoing thumps as I stomped to the far end, the fjord a glittering steel blue. Though the spring air was cool and the tips of the surrounding mountains were still covered with snow, the overhead sun was warm enough that I didn’t regret leaving my cloak at the great hall. In fact, it was warm enough to—
I turned around in time to see Bjorn dropping his shirt onto the dock, hard muscles and tattooed skin all in clear view. Setting the shields at my feet, I crossed my arms. “Worried about falling in?” I refused to say the word wet.
“No.” He hooked his thumbs over his belt, his trousers drifting low enough to reveal the sharp V of muscle that disappeared into them. The injury he’d taken last night was gone, presumably healed with Liv’s magic. Realizing I was staring at the tantalizing stretch of bare skin, I jerked my eyes to his face while gesturing at his discarded shirt.
He only shrugged. “I rarely wear a shirt when I fight.”
This time my eye roll was entirely unfeigned. “Is that part of your strategy, then? To distract the enemy with your rippling muscles so you might kill them while they gape at your splendor?”
“It is madness how well it works,” he agreed. “You’d think that when I run toward them, screaming battle cries and vows for blood, it would be the burning axe they commented on, but no. It’s always, ‘Look at that Bjorn’s ripping muscles. If I survive this battle, I vow to drink less mead so that my belly looks like his.’?”
I scowled, annoyed that he was getting the better of me. Again. “Why, then?”
“Because fabric burns.” He smirked. “So I either take it off before or risk having to rip it off in the middle of a fight.”