Had it been a choice? Ylva’s words reverberated in my head, the idea that the Norns did not choose, only implicitly understood what choice a person would make, consuming my thoughts. I held my mother against me, our foreheads touching. “To have your child chosen to hold a goddess’s blood is a privilege none would turn down, Mother. There is nothing to forgive.”
“I thought it was Freyja,” she whispered. “Thought that one day you’d invoke her name and create life where there was none, which is why I named you for her. And thought nothing of it when your father returned from Halsar with word the seer had spoken prophecy of a child of Hlin. Only waited for the day you would come into your power, yet what horror when you did, for it was not life your magic promised but war. I cursed you, my love. Forgive me.”
It was hard not to flinch at knowing that was how she saw my magic, yet still, I didn’t understand why she was pleading the way she was. “There is nothing to forgive. I am content.”
She straightened and held me at arm’s length, eyes locked on mine. “Don’t lie to me, girl.”
I twitched. “I’m not.”
“If you are so content with your husband and your future, why do you risk it all by climbing into bed with his son?”
Shock radiated through me, and I gaped at her. “Pardon?”
“Don’t lie to me, love. I know the look of a man possessive of that which he believes is his, and the Firehand looks at you that way. As you look at him.” My mother’s nails dug into my arms and she shook me violently. “What madness possesses you, Freya? Your life, and the lives of everyone in this family, hangs in the balance of your favor with Snorri, yet you cuckold him with his own son? You think it will remain secret? That he won’t find out? You must end it.”
I quivered, my stomach twisted with anger and shame and fear.
“Is satisfying your lusts worth your brother’s life?” she demanded, and my gut hollowed. “End it, Freya. Promise me that you will end it, for all our sakes. Swear it on Hlin’s name.”
A strange dizziness swept over me, but with it came unexpected clarity. I could not fulfill Saga’s foretelling and be with Bjorn. I could not protect my family and be with him.
I had to choose.
The air seemed to thrum, and from the corner of my eye I saw Bjorn turn from his task, searching for danger.
But I focused on my mother. On what she’d told me. On all the things she’d asked of me over the course of my life. On what she asked of me now. My anger, always simmering, burst into flame. “Do not make demands of me.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Have you lost your mind?”
I shook my head. “No, Mother. For the first time ever, I finally see clearly.”
“What do you mean?”
Her eyes were full of confusion, and that only fueled my anger, because how could she not know? “My whole life, all you have ever done is take from me for Geir’s gain. Or your own. From your own lips, you’ve put me last since before I was born.”
“Freya—”
“You made me hide my heritage, my magic, who I was,” I hissed. “Married me to Vragi because he’d bring wealth and privilege to our family even though you knew how he’d treat me. Offered yourselves up like mindless goats for sacrifice so that Snorri might have leverage to control me, because you knew it would be to your benefit. And now you ask me to turn away the one person who has put me first, the one person who cares about me, because it risks your selfish hide. Perhaps that is the right choice. But it must be my choice, not yours.”
The tension in the air seemed to snap like a rope stretched too tight, and my mother took a step back. “Then I expect you’ll curse us all.”
I huffed out a bitter breath. “You cursed yourself. It would have been easy for you to evade Birger and escape, but all you saw was the benefits Snorri’s silver brought to you. Same with Geir, who could easily have run away with Ingrid, but refused to give up his choice place in Snorri’s war band. In your selfishness and greed, you stuck your own necks under the axe, yet weep that it is my fault when the blade threatens to descend.”
“You dare to call us selfish, you little whore!” She lifted her hand to slap me, but then a much larger one closed over her wrist.
“Apologize.” Bjorn’s voice was like ice.
“You’re the one who should apologize.” My mother tried to pull free, but Bjorn’s grip only tightened. “You’re the one who made her like this. Freya used to be a good and loyal woman.”
“She still is. You’re just no longer worthy of her loyalty.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, needing to be away from her before I lashed out with more than words. “I’m leaving, Mother. It’s time you made your own way in the world.”
Twisting on my heel, I strode toward my mare, Bjorn at my side.
“Freya!” she shrieked over and over as Bjorn lifted me onto my horse. “Please!”
I didn’t look back.
“We need to hurry.” I rode at a swift canter down the narrow trail circling the fjord, knowing that for all my bravado, I had a decision to make. “We don’t have much time to get back.”
Instead of answering, Bjorn drew his gelding to a rough halt, the horse tossing its head in annoyance. “Why return at all? This is your chance to escape. We can head down the coast and find a merchant ship heading south, where we’ll be out of reach of all of this.”
“So that Snorri can execute my idiot brother and my negligent mother?” I snorted. “As tempting as that is at this particular moment, no.”
Reaching out, Bjorn caught hold of my mare’s reins, preventing me from heeling her into a trot and away from this conversation. “Freya, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“If it’s your opinions on my family, I don’t want to hear it.”
“It’s not about your family. It’s about mine.” He dragged his eyes up to meet mine. “My mother’s foretelling…it wasn’t the only one she had about you.”
My heart skipped, unease pooling in my stomach as I ceased trying to extract my mare from his hold. “What did she say? And when?”
Why didn’t you tell me?
“I…” His throat moved as he swallowed. “It was a long time ago, when I was still a boy, but I remember it clearly.”
“You seem to remember everything about her very clearly and yet communicate none of it,” I snapped. “What did she say?”
Bjorn was silent, and nausea twisted my guts. For what he might say. And the fact that he kept it from me at all.
“She went into these strange trances when she was being told something by Odin,” he finally answered. “I was alone with her when she was suddenly seized by one. She told me that the shield maiden would unite Skaland, but that tens of thousands would be left dead in your wake. That you’d walk upon the ground like a plague, pitting friend against friend, brother against brother, and that all would fear you.”
His words settled into my core, and I struggled to breathe.
“Whatever she saw terrified her,” he continued. “I was young, and it sank into my mind that the shield maiden would be more monster than woman. Even as a grown man, I…I had this vision of what you’d be like.” He looked away. “It couldn’t have been further from the truth. Not a monster, but a beautiful and brave woman who rescues fish and walks through fire to protect others.”
My eyes burned and I blinked rapidly to keep tears from forming.
“I didn’t tell you, because you weren’t what my mother described,” Bjorn said. “I was certain that I’d remembered wrong. Or that you’d altered fate and that the future Odin had shown my mother no longer existed, not just the darkness and death, but all of it. Except then the tests began, the gods stepping onto the mortal plane to acknowledge you, and I could not deny that you were destined to lead.” He took a deep breath. “I watched you make choices to protect Halsar and it didn’t seem possible that you would become a monster who’d bring death and destruction. But after the siege of Grindill…”
“You decided that maybe I was a monster after all.” I choked out the words, horror strangling me.
Bjorn shook his head. “No. But that Snorri would turn you into one if you allowed him to control your fate. I thought hearing Steinunn’s song, seeing yourself like that, would drive you to walk a different path, but you just couldn’t escape the need to protect the pieces of shit you call family.”