Bjorn’s voice was full of unease as he asked, “What exactly is it that you want me to do?”
Kill Snorri, the new voice hissed. Challenge him and take everything. I gave a sharp shake of my head. “That’s not what I think. That’s not what I want.”
“Freya…?”
I could hear his confusion. His concern.
Oh gods, I was arguing with myself.
Geir’s voice filled my head, repeating mad bitch over and over until I breathed, “There’s something wrong with me, Bjorn.”
I felt the heat of him as he knelt next to me.
“There’s something in me,” I whispered, staring blindly into the darkness. “Someone.”
“It’s Hlin.” Bjorn cupped my face with his hands, searching my eyes. The red must have been gone, for he relaxed. “I know how it feels, Freya. I know what it’s like when the part of you that is theirs takes control. But you can learn to hold them in check.”
A quiver ran through my body, because what he spoke of sounded like possession. Like madness. And it didn’t entirely make sense. “How can Hlin make me behave this way, Bjorn?” I met his gaze, though it was hard to see in the shadows. “She’s the goddess of protection.”
“I don’t know.” His grip on me tightened. “She’s a minor god. Only a few stories speak of her, and none tell anything of her nature. I can tell you that with certainty, because many sought to learn everything about her when my mother foretold the power you’d have.”
Which meant I was at war with someone I knew nothing about. Who no one living had ever met. Except…
I sat upright, pulse throbbing. “I need to go speak with my mother.”
“My father isn’t just going to let you go roaming the countryside,” Bjorn said under his breath as he walked with me back to the great hall. “Not with half the jarls in Skaland desiring to capture or kill you, and the other half on their way to Grindill to meet you. You’re too valuable to allow out of his sight. He’ll only have your mother brought here to give answers.”
“No.” My voice was flat. “Bad enough that Geir and Ingrid chose to put themselves within reach by coming to Grindill, I won’t put my mother at risk as well.”
“Then I fail to see a solution.” Bjorn ground to a halt, ignoring the way those in the streets gave us wide berth. I had a more difficult time setting aside the fearful looks many of them gave me. “It is a full day’s ride to Selvegr and another back. Impossible to do without your absence being noted.”
I rubbed at my scarred hand, thinking hard. Then an idea occurred to me. “I need to find Steinunn.”
Bjorn’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“Because her magic might be able to give me the answers I need.” Twisting away from him, I went into the great hall. As expected, the skald was there, speaking with Ylva and Snorri, as well as two men I didn’t recognize. “Keep your father busy while I talk to her,” I muttered under my breath.
“There is my prize,” Snorri said at the sight of me. “Freya, this is Jarl Arme Gormson and Jarl Ivar Rolfson, who have sworn allegiance to me as king of Skaland.” To the men, he said, “My wife, Freya, and my son, Bjorn.”
Both names were familiar to me, as their territories were not distant from Snorri’s. I inclined my head respectfully, only for shock to ripple through me as both bowed low. “Shield Maiden,” Ivar said, “we were present for Steinunn’s performance, which was a privilege to behold. Our enemies will cower in terror when faced with you on the battlefield, of that there is no question. Especially as Steinunn spreads word of your battle fame.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks, remembering how not so long ago, battle fame had been my greatest dream. I’d thought that would be my reward for enduring Snorri. But now that I’d tasted real battle, those dreams felt like nightmares. Were my nightmares, the parade of people who’d fallen because of me marching through my mind every night.
“As Skaland’s strength grows, soon we will turn our eyes to Nordeland,” Snorri said. “It is rich with gold and silver from years of their raiding. Past time we took back what is ours.”
The men nodded their approval, Arme’s gaze shifting to Bjorn. “To see revenge for your mother’s murder on the horizon must have your blood blazing, Firehand. A thing worthy of one of Steinunn’s songs, when it comes to pass.”
Bjorn inclined his head. “I have waited many years for vengeance.”
The men grinned. “The next time we see each other, it will be on drakkar as our fleet sails across the strait to put Harald in his place.”
“My father believes my destiny is to fight by Freya’s side,” Bjorn said. “So where she goes, I will go. If it is Nordeland, so much the better.”
“My lord,” I said to Snorri, interrupting the exchange. “It was to Steinunn I wished to speak. I…I had some thoughts I might share with her to add to her songs.”
He gave me an approving nod. “It is well to see you coming to terms with your role.”
Nodding, I edged past, leaving Bjorn to make idle chatter with the jarls. I approached Steinunn, who was exchanging words with Ylva. Leif stood at his mother’s elbow, the boy giving me a wary look, his hand drifting to the seax sheathed at his waist. I smiled at him, despite knowing that there was little chance of me ever winning his regard, but the furrow in Leif’s brow only deepened. Ylva’s hands closed on his shoulders, drawing him backward. “Go,” she said. “It is past time you were abed.”
Bjorn’s younger half-brother looked ready to argue, but one glare from his mother sent him hurrying to the rear of the hall. Crossing her arms, Ylva said, “I’m less forgiving of your conduct than Snorri, girl. Sulking in your pillow for days, only to go out and inspire fistfights before storming out of a performance meant to honor you. It’s—”
“It wasn’t meant to honor me, Ylva, it was to make people fear me,” I interrupted. “Which is why I wish to speak to Steinunn.”
“My magic speaks the truth,” the skald swiftly said. “If the truth is terrifying, there is nothing I can do to change that.”
“Unless there is more to the story,” I said. “An untold piece that might add needed depth.” Turning to Ylva, I said, “Snorri wishes to entice the other jarls to swear oaths to him with tales of battle fame, which is well and good. But the people who are to be ruled by him—they need something different. Something…more. A king takes an oath of loyalty from his people, but he, in turn, gives an oath to protect them. The people must see that. Must believe it is the truth, which cannot be proven by any way better than a skald’s song.”
Ylva’s eyes narrowed. “What precisely could you add, Freya? All you’ve proven is your adeptness for killing.”
I flinched. “Then perhaps what Steinunn’s song needs is not more stories about me, but rather the tales of the goddess whose power I wield.”
“There are few tales,” Steinunn interjected. “What is known of her is already known to all. To make these songs worthy, they must hold new stories that will entice men to action. There is no one who has seen or spoken directly to the goddess in our lifetime who might provide such.”
“Except Freya’s mother.” Ylva pursed her lips, blue eyes distant, though they swiftly fixed on mine. “Is there a compelling story surrounding your conception, Freya? Because I do not think tales of lust and divine fornication will inspire people to think better of you.”
“In truth, I don’t know,” I admitted. “My father forbade anyone in our family to speak of my heritage. But Steinunn could travel to Selvegr and speak to her. Learn whatever my mother knows of Hlin, and then use it to temper her song.”
“My song requires no alteration,” Steinunn snapped. “Already it has proven its effectiveness. On Snorri’s orders, tomorrow I leave to travel across Skaland, performing to all who listen so that they might hear of Freya Born-in-Fire’s battle fame. Long have these men desired to make war on Nordeland, and the opportunity to make it happen will be beyond their power to resist.”