King Harald, flanked on one side by Skade and the other by Tora, who was battered and bruised, the hair on the left side of her head burned away. A sickening suspicion filled my stomach at the sight of her injuries. Snorri’s warriors had never found the body of the child of Thor who’d killed Bodil, and had assumed it had been incinerated in the blast. But Tora’s burns suggested an alternative that made my anger rise, and I muttered, “Harald was allied with Gnut.”
Snorri cursed and spat over the ramparts, seeming to have made the same connection.
Keeping out of range of Snorri’s archers, Harald’s eyes locked on mine. He slowly withdrew a length of white fabric from his belt and, with utter fearlessness, approached the deep trenches surrounding the fortress.
“Such a shame to meet again under these circumstances, Freya,” he shouted upward, the wind catching and pulling at his golden-brown hair. “But for the sake of my kingdom, I could not stand by and watch you continue down this path. Surrender yourself to me, and you have my word that I’ll take my army, get back on our ships, and return to Nordeland.”
“And why should I believe that?” I shouted back to him. “You are the one who has brought an army onto our lands, the one who allied with our enemies. You are the one who offers threats!”
“What choice did I have?” His chest rose and fell with a sigh. “I’d hoped to avert the future Saga saw—the future Saga foretold to her own son—in ways other than war, but my wishes have not come to pass. I cannot allow you, under the guidance of King Snorri, to bring death to my lands, so here I stand.”
“That is not what Saga foretold!” Snorri roared. “Which is why you killed her for it!”
“We both know it wasn’t me who brought violence to Saga’s door,” Harald answered, and next to me Bjorn shifted his weight. “That’s a lie you’ve used to justify your intentions to make war upon Nordeland.”
Snorri lunged against the wooden balustrades, seemingly ready to hurl himself off to attack Harald man-to-man. “Liar! You killed Saga and then stole my son!”
I risked a sideways glance at Bjorn, who was the only one who knew with certainty which man was telling the truth and which man was a liar performing for his army, but he was staring forward, hands gripped tight on the balustrade.
“We can stand here shouting accusations at each other all day,” Harald said, rocking on his heels. “But it changes nothing. From your own lips at Fjalltindr, you intend to use Freya to attack Nordeland, and I cannot allow that to happen. So either give her to me, or we will battle over her here and now, allowing the gods to choose the victor.”
“The gods have already foreseen my victory,” Snorri shouted, “but if you need proof, you shall have it.” He looked sideways, his eyes meeting mine. “Shield wall.”
My fingers were numb, and my stomach twisted into knots as I fixed my eyes on Tora, who’d stepped close to Harald’s side. Memory of my last battle with her filled my mind’s eye. Visions of how bolts of lightning had torn into flesh and earth, rending both asunder. How lightning had exploded through Bodil’s chest. Yes, I’d managed to repel a bolt and stopped her, but what were the chances of managing such a feat again?
“Shield wall!” Snorri shouted, then slammed his sword against his shield. “Shield wall!” The warriors around us took up the refrain, hammering their weapons against their shields, the noise growing louder and louder until I could barely hear myself think.
Shield wall.
Sheathing my warped sword, I placed my hands on the balustrade, watching as lightning crackled between Tora’s raised palms. “Hlin,” I whispered. “Protect us.”
Magic surged through me, flowing out of my fingers and onto the wall, spreading left and right with blinding speed until it encircled the fortress with glowing light.
“It’s not too late, Freya,” Harald shouted. “No one need die today. All it takes is you deciding to change your fate.”
I turned my head enough to see behind me. Geir was still on his knees, Ragnar’s blade at his throat. And Ingrid…the child…if I didn’t at least try to fight off Harald, I fully believed whoever had her would kill her for spite.
There was no path through this. No choice that wouldn’t cause death. “Bjorn…” I trailed off because I couldn’t ask him what I should do. Couldn’t put the burden of this on his shoulders when it was mine to carry. But I could ask for the truth. “Which one of them killed her?”
His throat moved as he swallowed. “Neither of them killed her, Freya.”
“But you said you wanted vengeance against the man who harmed her?” I stared at him. “Against Harald?”
With visible effort, he forced himself to meet my gaze. “I do. But neither of them killed her.”
A chill ran through me as understanding sank into my bones. Bjorn had a scar on his shoulder from the first time he’d called Tyr’s flame—from setting a cabin on fire. Saga had burned alive.
“My vengeance is my own, Born-in-Fire,” Bjorn said. “Do not base your choices upon it.”
I clenched my teeth because that only made this harder. I wanted there to be a right path, for then no matter what happened, I could walk it without regret, yet it seemed a fate that would forever be denied to me.
Murmurs of dismay drew my eyes back to the army before me. Civilians from Torne were shoved forward by Harald’s men so that they stood between Tora and the glowing wall of my magic. Some stood frozen, but many raced toward the gate, begging to be let in. Snorri gave a slight shake of his head. “Hold steady.”
“This is your last chance to end this peacefully,” Harald shouted. “Lower your shield and surrender yourself, Freya. End this before anyone dies.”
“It’s a trick,” Snorri snarled at me. “The moment you lower your guard, he’ll take you and then slaughter us all.”
“I swear that if you come down, my army will leave these shores, Freya!” Harald walked through the sea of sharpened stakes in the trenches, stopping close enough to touch my magic. Close enough for any of the archers to shoot, but he still held the white fabric, and honor stayed their hands. That, or the fact that the true threat stood out of reach, lightning crackling between her palms. “Come down,” he said. “There need not be war today.”
I quivered, sweat soaking the hair at my temples, though I felt cold. What was the answer? What was the right path? What should I do? Turning my back on my mother had led to her death. Could I do the same to Geir and Ingrid?
No.
Except if I didn’t, all the innocent people screaming to be allowed in the gates, screaming for the protection of my magic, would die by Tora’s lightning just as Bodil had. And how many more after that? How long could I keep these walls protected until exhaustion caused me to falter? Because the moment it did, Tora would blast through the walls, and it would be over.
You have to try. It’s who you are.
I shook my head sharply, then shouted, “I am a Skalander. I’ll die fighting before I concede to Nordeland!”
A roar of cheers rose up from my people, but Harald only gave a disgusted shake of his head.
“If you choose to kill these people, their blood is on your hands,” I shouted at his back as he retreated. King Harald didn’t respond, only nodded once as he passed Tora, then joined his army, which retreated slightly down the slope.
The child of Thor met my gaze a heartbeat before lightning exploded from her palms. Except it wasn’t the people below she aimed her power at, but rather my magic. The lightning struck my shield and rebounded, splintering into a dozen jagged arcs that went in every direction. The crack of thunder split my ears, but it was not enough to deafen me of the screams that filtered upward.
I looked down, seeing dozens of people on their backs many paces away from the wall, where my magic had flung them as it repelled Tora’s lightning. They clambered to their feet, racing again to the gate, screaming to be allowed sanctuary.
Tora lifted her palms, and another bolt arced toward my shield, the civilians again flung backward, more violently this time. I howled wordlessly as their bodies were tossed every which way, some landing on stakes in the trenches. The thunder was a short-lived mercy, for the moment it ceased its roll, the screams of agony and fear filled the void.