I followed the road that ran parallel to the river at a fast canter, fording the dozens of small streams that fed into it, my eyes on the cliffs in the distance. I could make out the walls of Grindill, the Torne flowing past the fortress to cascade over in a waterfall fifty feet high. Mist exploded from its base, but I drew no closer to it, the road veering south before beginning the steep climb up the hill to the fortress.
The gelding was breathing hard by the time I reached the top of the slope, but I drove him at a gallop toward the gate. The walls were repaired, warriors walking along the tops of them, and I was swiftly noticed.
And recognized.
“It’s Freya!” My name repeated from above as my horse’s hooves clattered across the bridge over the moat of stakes, the gate swinging open to admit me. I rode into the open yard before drawing up my gelding, my eyes skipping over the curious stares of those nearby, hunting for my prey.
“Have you lost your mind, girl?”
Ylva’s voice filled my ears, and my wrath burned wild and hot as I saw her exit the great hall. Flinging myself off my horse, I stalked toward her.
“This was not the plan,” she whispered, holding her skirts out of the mud, her breath coming in rapid pants as though she’d run to intercept me the moment she heard I’d returned. “How am I going to explain why you—”
I swung, my right fist connecting hard enough with her cheek that pain ricocheted up my arm. “You traitorous bitch,” I snarled as she fell into the mud. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”
Ylva crawled backward even as shouts of alarm echoed around us. “I betrayed nothing,” she gasped. “Everyone thinks you are in your rooms!”
“Is that so?” I pulled my sword and pursued her, satisfaction filling me as she recoiled in terror. “Then how is it that Skade knew exactly where to find me?”
Ylva blanched. “What? No…no, Freya, I’ve no notion of how Harald learned this information, but it was not from me. I swear it!”
“Lies,” I hissed. “All this time, it has been you who is conspiring with Harald. To get rid of Bjorn. Now to get rid of me, because you haven’t the stomach for war that you thought you did. Except neither Bjorn nor I are dead, but my mother is! Because of you!”
I lifted my sword. Readying for a down strike that would take her head from her shoulders, only for a wash of heat to warm my face as my blade was struck and wrenched from my grip.
I stumbled, nearly falling, and as I regained my balance it was to see Bjorn astride his exhausted horse just inside the gate. Screaming with wordless fury that he’d deny me my revenge, I snatched up my sword, anger and grief filling me, to find the blade warped from the impact of his axe on the metal. Ruined, but it would serve well enough.
Ylva screamed, but before I could drive the blade into her heart, someone slammed into my side. I toppled into the mud, more hands than I could count pinning me down, shouts filling my ears.
“What is going on?” Snorri roared, and I choked around a mouthful of mud and horse shit, “She’s a traitor!”
Hands jerked me upright and I coughed and spat, trying to clear away the foulness.
“You told me Freya was in her rooms seeking guidance from the gods.” Snorri leveled a finger at Ylva. “Yet she just came through the gate on horseback.”
“She needed to see her mother.” Ylva climbed to her feet, aided by Ragnar. “Wanted to learn what she could about Hlin so—”
“She told Harald where we were,” I screamed. “And my mother is dead because of it!”
“I did no such thing!”
All I could see was red, because even now she denied it. “Then who, Ylva? We know there is a traitor in our midst. One who was in Fjalltindr. One who betrayed Snorri’s plans in Halsar. One who betrayed that I was going to see my mother. You were the only one present all three times, the only one with the magic, the only one with the knowledge!”
“It was not me!” Ylva shrieked, only Ragnar’s grip on her keeping the woman from attacking me. “Bodil vouched for the truth of my words in Halsar!”
“Then she lied!”
“Enough!” Snorri stepped between us. “I will hear you two in private, not listen to you screech like two fishwives in a market!”
“That’s because she is a fishwife!”
I tried to get loose of the men holding me, and when I couldn’t, I spat at her.
“Bring them into the great hall,” Snorri snapped, then looked to Bjorn, who still stood at the gate. “You will come as well, as it would seem you are complicit.”
Men dragged me through the muddy streets and into the great hall, forcing me down at a bench. Ragnar escorted Ylva in like a queen and helped her to sit at the far end before leaving. Snorri stood between us, while Bjorn sat at another table, face expressionless. Not unexpectedly, it was to him that Snorri turned first. “Explain why you took my shield maiden out of my fortress on some fool’s errand, boy.”
Bjorn lifted one shoulder. “She wished to see her mother to learn more of Hlin. Ylva agreed that you would not allow such a meeting to occur and facilitated the opportunity for Freya to leave Grindill unaware. We had just left her mother’s farm when Skade came with a ship full of men, having been informed that Freya would be there. She killed Freya’s mother and then left.”
Snorri’s jaw worked back and forth, and slowly he turned on Ylva to regard her. A thrill ran through me that he was finally seeing the truth.
Ylva slid off the bench to her knees, shaking her head. “I did not betray you, my love. You know that I am loyal. Through everything, I have been loyal.”
Snorri’s eyes swung to me. “Justify your accusations.”
“In Fjalltindr, when I worried about how long Ylva and Bjorn were gone, I left to try to find help,” I said. “I saw Harald speaking with someone in the Hall of the Gods, conspiring to protect her child. Someone Harald believed you trusted, Snorri. Then a hooded woman attempted to enter our hall but was repelled by our wards.”
“Why would I be repelled by my own wards?” Ylva snapped. “Besides, I was with Bodil. You know this!”
Snorri ignored her, waving at me to continue.
“In Halsar when the specter led me into the forest, it was a hooded woman who carved the runes into the tree with the vision of your speech.”
“It was not me! Bodil vouched for the truth of my words when this little bitch accused me the first time,” Ylva shouted.
“Bodil is dead and cannot be asked a second time,” Snorri answered, refusing to look at her, his eyes locked on mine.
“Then fetch Steinunn,” I said. “Her songs only show the truth.”
“She left last night.”
Frustration caused my hands to ball into fists. “Ylva was the only one who knew Bjorn and I intended to visit my mother.” Tears ran down my cheeks. “She was the only one, and my mother is dead because of her actions. I demand vengeance.”
Silence stretched, and I didn’t dare speak. Barely dared to breathe.
“I will not condemn you without trial,” Snorri finally said, and I saw his hands were fists, trembling as though he were containing violence by a thread. “But know that Freya’s accusations are compelling.”
Ylva’s face crumpled. “My love, you know—”
Her pleas were interrupted by the bellow of a horn, the noise causing me to twitch in alarm. Especially when it sounded again.
A warning.
Seconds later, one of Snorri’s warriors exploded through the door. “Nordeland forces have landed in Torne,” he gasped out. “Dozens and dozens of ships. They are demanding that we give them the shield maiden.”
My stomach dropped, for though we’d known this moment would come, I didn’t think anyone believed it would be so soon.
Ylva pressed a hand to her mouth. “We need to flee!”
“Was this your plan?” Snorri screamed at her. “Is your desire to rebuild Halsar so strong you allied yourself with my greatest enemy?”
“I did not betray you,” Ylva sobbed. “I swear on the gods, I am loyal. But we must protect our people, Snorri. Our allies have not arrived, so we cannot hope to hold against Harald. We must retreat!”
“I didn’t win this fortress with blood just to concede it at the first threat against us!” Snorri snarled, then rounded on the messenger. “Abandon Torne! Draw all the men into the fortress and make ready.”