“Leather doesn’t burn,” I said flatly, knowing precisely what the warriors wore when they fought. “Neither does steel. So either you are vain or you are very stupid.”
Bjorn spread his arms wide. “Why not both?”
“Why not indeed,” I grumbled, bending to pick up a shield, gripping it tight. “Snorri has ordered you to teach me to fight in a shield wall. You may begin to do so now.”
“Yes, my lady of Halsar.” He cast his green eyes skyward. “In the shield wall, you must hold a shield.”
“Really?” I said. “That part I didn’t know.”
“You must hold a shield for a long time.” He bent low, his nose less than a handspan from my already-quivering arm, then met my gaze with raised eyebrows. “I suspect you can’t hold it for more than five minutes.”
He turned on his heel and retreated back up the dock a few paces before flopping down on his arse. Then he rolled up his shirt, using it as a cushion as he lay on his back and closed his eyes, seemingly intent on sunning himself while I stood here quivering and sweating.
Arrogant prick!
“Arm up, Freya,” he called, though there was no way he could see me. “You’re protecting your heart, not your knees.”
Arsehole! I lifted the shield higher, grinding my teeth as my arm protested the strain. But I’d do it. For however long I had to, I’d stand here. This might not be how I’d envisioned being trained as a warrior, but that didn’t mean I’d quit.
I can do this, I silently chanted. I can do this.
Minutes passed, and with each one I prayed that Bjorn would say it had been long enough. That I’d proven myself.
But he said nothing. I wasn’t sure if he was even awake. On the beach, more and more people had gathered, watching and chuckling as though this were all a big joke. Even the children joined in, several of them holding up shields with shaking arms, mocking my attempts.
My temper snapped.
“Get up!” I barked. “You are here to teach, not to take a nap in the sun. I wish to do something else.”
Bjorn cracked one eye. “You think that is how it goes in battle? That you get tired and announce to your enemy, ‘I am tired. Let us do something else instead. Let us roast a chicken and drink a cup until my arm steadies.’?” He sat upright. “If your strength fails you in battle, Freya, you’ll die.”
“I’m aware,” I said between my teeth. “But I wish you to test my strength a different way.”
“Fine.” He rose to his feet, then retrieved the other shield. “Ready?”
Before I had a chance to respond, he slammed it into mine. The impact sent me staggering, and I nearly fell off the end of the dock. Gasping, I stumbled back to the center, barely managing to get my shield up before he struck. Again I staggered, nearly going over the edge. “Why are you so angry about having to do this?”
Because there was no denying that he was angry.
Behind the swagger and jokes and indifference was rage, and I didn’t understand why. Didn’t understand why teaching me to fight and watching my back was such a horrible thing.
“Because it’s bullshit.” He smashed his shield into mine with enough force that my heels slid over the edge of the dock, only luck keeping me from falling. “My fate is not tied to yours—that’s just Snorri spinning words to get what he wants. It’s not my destiny to protect you.”
The latter made sense, in a way, but the former…“What if he’s right? Other than Ylva, you were the only one who saw the vision of me being torn apart. That has to mean something.”
“Probably because I have god’s blood.”
“So do Steinunn and Liv,” I countered. “Steinunn says that she saw nothing.”
His expression darkened, though I wasn’t certain if it was the mention of the skald or the fact I’d disproved his argument. “This is not my fate.”
He slammed his shield into mine and my arm shuddered, nearly buckling. One more blow like that and I was going to take the edge of my shield in my chin, but I refused to give in. Refused to call it quits.
“My fate”—he paused in his attack, although I wasn’t certain if it was to give me a rest or because he was more interested in airing his grievances than fighting—“is to win battles, not spend day and night defending another man’s wife.”
“I see.” My tone frigid, I added, “A woman is only worth your time if you might end up in her bed, is that the truth of it?”
“And if it is?”
Even if it was the truth, his behavior was unfair, because it was Snorri who’d forced him into this role, not me. Yet I was the one Bjorn was taking his displeasure out on. And I wasn’t going to take it.
Bjorn came at me again, and as I braced, I murmured, “Hlin, give me strength.”
Power surged through me, magic enveloping my shield. I watched Bjorn’s eyes widen, but it was too late for him to stop his blow.
His shield struck my magic, and the impact launched him backward with such force that he flew through the air, landing in the fjord with a splash.
Vanquishing my magic, I moved to the end of the dock and watched him come spluttering to the surface, his shield floating nearby. “It seems you are the one who is wet, Bjorn.”
He glared at me and then swam toward the dock with powerful strokes, shield abandoned in the water. “Magic will only take you so far,” he snarled. “Snorri wants you to become a warrior, not a glowing beacon in the shield wall that everyone will try to kill.”
“Fuck Snorri,” I shouted at him. “And fuck you, too.”
He reached for the edge of the dock to pull himself up, but I wasn’t through. So I stomped on his fingers, earning a yelp of pain.
“You think I want to be a figurehead?” I demanded. “You think I asked to be named in a seer’s prophecy? I was going about my life when you rode into it and tore it to shreds.”
“Because life with Vragi was such a fine thing? You hated him.” Bjorn started to reach up for the dock again, then hesitated as I lifted my foot.
“Perhaps you ought to consider Vragi’s fate before you test me any further.”
“Threats will not force me to be satisfied with spending life as your shadow.”
“I don’t give a shit if you’re satisfied!” I shouted, even though it was a lie. It would bother me knowing that he resented being around me. “Because no one gives a shit if I’m satisfied! I didn’t agree to Snorri’s ultimatum for myself, I did it to protect my family, which is clearly something you don’t understand. Because we are family now.”
An emotion I couldn’t quite read flickered through his eyes, and Bjorn looked away. Immediately, I regretted my words. He’d spent much of his life separated from his family, kept as a prisoner. If he didn’t understand, it was because he’d never had a chance to.
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to finish. “If you continue to try to make things worse than they are, I will return the favor tenfold. So perhaps you might do us both the favor of saving your ire for the individual who has forced us to such close proximity.”
Bjorn said nothing, only treaded water, his shield slowly drifting past us toward shore.
“You may get out of the water now,” I said, extremely aware that we were being watched. “And then you may apologize.”
“I’m too afraid to get out.” He continued swimming in place. “You have thrown me in the water, possibly broken my fingers, and threatened to murder me. At least in the fjord I don’t need to fear you pursuing me.”
Though I knew damn well Bjorn had no fear of me, a hint of unease filled my chest that I’d gone too far. My mother always said that I had the temper of a caged mink, prone to saying the worst sorts of things, only to regret them later. “I’m not going to murder you.”
“Just batter my feelings until I wish I were dead?”
“I’m not—” I scowled as a smile grew on his face and I crossed my aching arms. “I won’t do anything to you that you don’t deserve. Now get out and apologize and we may carry on.”
He eyed me for a moment, then swam closer and took hold of the dock. Only to snatch his hand back with a hiss of pain.
Concern flooded me. Had I truly broken his fingers? Should I go fetch Liv?