Page 88 of A Curse Carved in Bone
“This will not go as Ylva plans,” I whispered. “Harald will not let you all walk away with what you know, because it puts every scheme of his at risk. Someone who knows the truth needs to stay free of this. Needs to stay alive.”
“I suppose you volunteer yourself?”
I shook my head. “Not with these injuries. It needs to be you.”
“I’m not leaving Lady Ylva.”
“You cannot help her if you are dead,” I hissed. “Sneak away. Spread the truth and get aid. That is how you can help her.”
“You mean Freya?” He shook his head. “She’s probably already frozen to death. Let it go, Bjorn.”
My chest clenched painfully, every part of my soul rejecting thenotion that Freya was lost to me. I’d know. I’d feel it. And my heart screamed that my Born-in-Fire warred on. “She’s not dead.”
Exhaling an irritated breath, Ragnar moved his sword from my balls, then stood, his eyes on the fortress that would be visible ahead. Taking in the scene. The man was twenty years my senior, born and bred to fight. He knew Ylva was making a mistake—it was a matter of whether he’d go against her to save her.
“Skade!” he abruptly called out. “He’s half dead but needs someone to watch him while I piss. Get up here, would you?”
Skade shrugged, then moved to the back of the wagon and jumped in, Ragnar leaping out and heading into the trees.
Her arrow appeared in one hand, glowing green and malevolent, and Skade began to prune her nails with the tip. “I told him to let me go back and make sure you were dead,” she said. “Not like him to leave loose ends. Ylva said Freya was alive when she left, but trapped. After he kills you, I hope he lets me go put an end to the bitch.”
Instead of rising to her bait, I tilted my head. “You know what he is, don’t you? A child of Loki.”
She grinned, eyes feral. “I’ve always known. Harald trusts me. Knows that I’ll do what needs doing and keep my mouth shut. Ground my nerves all those years that he pretended you were his favorite, but I’ve always known the truth. I’m his daughter. I’m his heir. I’m his blood. You were only ever something for us to use.”
“What has he promised you?”
“Power.” Skade tapped her arrow against her palm. “Wealth. Status. And when he sees you, I hope he will give me the pleasure of your death.”
“And Ylva’s?”
Skade shook her head. “Oh, Ylva he wants alive. Needs her alive, if I’m being truthful.”
I narrowed my eyes.
She grinned. “If you’re lucky, you’ll have a heartbeat to appreciate the beauty of his plan before you die.” Standing, she leaned over me,forcing the gag back in my mouth. “Not many heartbeats left for you, I’m afraid. We’re here.”
The cart trundled through the gates. A cheer rose at the sight of Ylva, for many who lived in Grindill were originally from Halsar. The horse stopped, and Skade leaned forward to grab my bound wrists. “Get up. The king awaits.”
My knees threatened to buckle, but I managed to keep my feet as she dragged me out. The Skalanders scowled at the sight of me, several shouting, “Traitor!” as I was dragged into the great hall. All of Ylva’s warriors flanked her as she walked inside, but I noted that Ragnar was nowhere in sight. Shoving me forward so that I landed on my knees, Skade then turned to put a beam in place to lock the door. “The king will be here shortly.” She took Ylva’s arm, leading her onto the dais and seating her on one of the fur-covered chairs.
What is goingon?
Ylva shifted uneasily, her eyes flicking briefly to mine. “Skade, where is my son?”
“With the king.” Skade grinned, eyes bright with delight and a hint of madness. She cupped a hand to her ear. “I believe I hear them coming.”
Leif’s familiar laugh rang out from the rear of the building, then my brother appeared. He wasn’t alone. For walking with a muscled arm slung around Leif’s skinny shoulder, hale and healthy as I’d ever seen him, was Snorri.
The drakkar skipped over the white-capped waves, the wind filling the sails so strong I swore the gods themselves were urging us on. The vessels were full of undead warriors, their numbers fierce and terrifying.
As, unfortunately, was the smell.
Geir stood next to me at the helm, and though his mind and spirit were as they always had been, the same could not be said of his body, which appeared more rotted by the hour. From battling the draug in the tunnels below Fjalltindr, I knew that it would have no impact on his strength, but it was unpleasant.
“So, you know nothing of Harald’s plan?” my brother asked, brushing a piece of blond hair back from his face. It broke loose from his scalp, flying away on the breeze, and I struggled not to gag.
“I believed we were defending Nordeland against Snorri’s invasion,” I replied. “That we aimed to defeat him, and that would be the extent of things. Harald’s plans to defeat him and then force all of Skaland to bend the knee to him as king were hidden from me.” The last came out with more sarcasm than I’d intended.
