Page 26 of A Curse Carved in Bone
We reached the fortified gates leading to the bridge that stretched to the eastern bank of the Rimstrom. A tremendously tall and broad woman with thick red braids stood waiting. She wore the garments of a blacksmith. And the sword in her hands was mine.
At the sight of Bjorn, her face broke into a smile. “I could scarcely believe the news when I heard that you had returned to us, you little shit.” She pounded him on the back with such force that Bjorn staggered. “You finally put on some muscle, so you must have been eating well in the south. This is her?”
“This is Freya.” Bjorn nodded to the muscular woman and said, “Gyda is the finest smith in Nordeland by virtue of being a child of Brokkr.”
Gyda made a face. “Your silver tongue doesn’t work on me, boy.” Then she looked me up and down. “She was certainly the runt of the litter.”
I crossed my arms and scowled up at her. “Would you like to fight me?”
Gyda laughed, then reached down to stroke Hati’s back, the wolf leaning against her leg. “She is like a small dog who thinks it is a wolf. All bark.”
“She bites, too,” Bjorn said, and my face burned.
“Then let’s give her back her teeth.” Gyda handed me my sheathed sword. “See if this suits, shield maiden. Harald sent it ahead to have me mend the blade, and I had time to do a bit more than straighten it.”
I frowned at learning Harald had facilitated the repair, but all thought of Nordeland’s king vanished as I took hold of the weapon. A lump formed in my throat as I unsheathed my father’s sword, the blade no longer warped from Bjorn’s axe but reforged straight and true with her magic. As I ran my fingers over the blade, I felt etchings in the metal that I could not see with my eyes. Etchings that felt to me like runes. “What do these markings mean?”
“What they mean is my business,” Gyda answered. “What they do is ensure your blade will hold true against magic and steel alike. Unbreakable, so your only limitation is your own strength.” She reached over and pinched my bicep. “Though that seems a significant limitation, you scrawny little bird.”
Bjorn laughed, but I barely noticed as my eyes fell on the cloth-wrapped object that Gyda had retrieved from where it rested against the wall. Pulling off the cloth, she revealed a shield made of a silvery metal that had been hammered thin, more designs etched into its surface. She handed it to me. “Empowered to be light as a feather.”
My jaw dropped as I held the shield, which indeed seemed to have no weight at all.
“I can only give an object one power,” Gyda said. “So it is not strong. But with your magic…”
“Hlin,” I murmured, and magic illuminated the silver surface. It felt as though I could hold it up high forever. “Thank you.”
“Ain’t interested in thanks.” She held out a hand. “You want it, you need to pay for it. I’ll bleed Harald for the sword.”
My heart sank because I had nothing to give beyond the clothes on my back. Then next to me, Bjorn dug into his pocket and extracted a handful of golden chains that I could only imagine had been waiting for him in the same chest as his clothes. Plunder from raids in the service of Nordeland, which meant there was every chance it had been stolen from Skaland.
“No,” I snapped. “I’ll pay.”
“With what?” Bjorn demanded.
“Don’t be a fool, girl.” Gyda tugged on one of her crimson braids and looked me over as though I was the purest form of stupid. “If he’s idiot enough to spend his wealth on you, then take it.”
“No.” I looked down at the beautiful shield in my hands, trying to ignore how badly I wanted it to be mine. “If I let him pay, then every time I look at it, I’ll be reminded that he’s a lying traitor and I might be tempted to cast it aside in the middle of battle.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Bjorn said between his teeth. “Be mad at me all you want, but don’t make bad decisions just to spite me.”
Gyda looked between us and then whistled between her teeth. “You little shit. You were supposed to kill her and instead you cuckolded Snorri, didn’t you? I’d heard rumors you were bedding her but I didn’t think you were that stupid…”
“Not your business, Gyda.” Bjorn stepped closer to me, but I stepped back. “Freya…”
“I don’t want your gifts, Bjorn. I don’t want anything from you. If it were possible to erase you from my memories, I would do so.” Not giving him a chance to respond, I said to Gyda, “This is truly beautiful work, but you will have to sell it to someone else. He’s right that I have no way to pay.”
The smith tilted her head sideways. “It’s good for nothing but a decoration without your magic, shield maiden.”
Guilt pooled in my stomach that her effort, time, and magic had been wasted. Then from behind me, Harald said, “You are not without means, Freya.”
Stepping alongside us, he nodded at Gyda before plucking up the handful of gold chains Bjorn still held and handing them to her. “He damaged the sword, so it is fitting he pay for it.”
Then Harald held out a leather sack to me. “This is yours. Spoils collected from the Islunders you defeated. The mail you wear was taken off one of the female warriors you sent to Helheim.”
My mouth went dry because I felt no honor in those deaths. Yet I still took the sack and looked inside. Precious metals and jewels shone in the fading light of the sun. Armbands, bracelets, and rings cut out of the dead men’s beards. It made me want to vomit and I closed the sack.
“This is how it is done, Freya,” Harald said. “They’d have done the same to us, had they been the victors.”
