Page 4 of A Curse Carved in Bone
“She’s dangerous.” Harald’s eyes moved from the approaching warriors to Freya, who stood at the water’s edge under Tora’s watchful gaze. “She holds not only the power to kill but the power to send souls to her godly mother in Helheim. Warriors who laugh in the face of death will run from Freya, for she has the power to deny them Valhalla. Yet that is not what terrifies me about her.” He was quiet for a long moment before he added, “It is her rage.”
As though hearing our words, Freya turned, and even across the stretch of the beach and through the trees, there was no mistaking the gleam of crimson in her gaze. Her pale blond hair hung loose to her waist, tangled and matted from seawater and wind. If not for the fact she had legs rather than a fish tail, I’d have compared her to the havfrue who were said to lure the unwary sailors to their deaths. Though in truth, even disarmed as she was, Freya was far more dangerous.
“Her anger is half the reason I tried to take her and run. I didn’t realize that it was Hel’s influence, but I saw her changing as Snorri used her in his quest to become king. Saw her becoming the monster my mother feared and I wanted to protect her from that. I…”
“Wanted to change her fate?”
I gave a slow nod. “Seems foolish now given it’s Hel who makes her feel like this, not Snorri. Running would have changed nothing.”
Harald burst into laughter, and I scowled at him.
“Oh, to be young and stupid again,” he finally said, wiping at his eyes. “Remember your stories, Bjorn, or I shall sit you down with Steinunn and have her teach you like a small child. Hel is the goddess of death and mistress of Helheim, but she is no villain set upondestruction. She is…covetous,for lack of a better word. Shewants.Which makes me wonder what Freya wants. Makes me wonder what has been denied to her that makes rage burn so hot in her heart that her eyes turn to flame. Blame not Hel, for the anger you see is Freya’s and Freya’s alone.”
There were countless reasons I could think of for Freya to be angry—knew I was certainly one of them—and yet my instincts told me that I could not begin to comprehend why her wrath was so fierce.
“Discover what it is Freya wants,” Harald said. “That is the key to tempering her and, in doing so, changing the dark fate your mother foresees.”
I frowned at his choice of word.Tempering.It sounded too much likechanging,and there was nothing about Freya that I wished to change. Yet all I said was, “She wants the truth.”
“Then take her to Saga so that she might know the whole of it.” My father gripped my shoulder. “I forgive you, Bjorn. I forgive you because I understand that you acted out of love for Freya, not out of malice toward me or Nordeland. The gods know, I have made questionable choices for the sake of your mother, so I cannot judge you harshly. Women wield their beauty like a weapon, and none are more beautiful than Saga.”
I cast my eyes skyward. “Spare me your lovesick poetry about my mother. There are things in life I’m better off not knowing, and that is one of them.”
Harald laughed, but then his gaze sharpened. “Do you remember the vision your mother foresaw of Freya after you came to Nordeland?”
As though I could ever forget my mother falling to her knees before me, eyes rolled back in her head. A voice not her own whispering from her lips that the shield maiden would unite Skaland, but that thousands would be left dead in her wake. That the shield maiden would walk upon the ground like a plague, pitting friend against friend, brother against brother, and that all would fear her. “You know I remember.”
Harald gave a slow nod. “Long has your life’s purpose been not onlyto deny Snorri the fate your mother foresaw, but also to prevent the bloody toll that his rule would have upon our lands with the shield maiden as his weapon. You believed stealing Freya away would forestall that dark future, but I think it clear that she can’t run from the fate Saga foresaw. She must fight it. The question you must ask is if you are willing to fight it alongside her.”
That was no question. I had Freya’s back to the gates of Valhalla and beyond.
Though I’d said nothing, Harald gave a small nod of approval. “Your path is as it has always been, Bjorn: to prevent Snorri from controlling Skaland. To deny him the power of destruction. How that is best achieved, I do not know. We can only hope that your mother has answers.”
“If she claims that Freya’s death is the only option, what will you do?” I asked, because he hadn’t answered my question the first time.
Wind howled through the forest, the sound haunting and filling me with foreboding as Harald’s pale gray eyes searched mine. Then he said, “Let us both pray it does not come to that.”
The approaching warriors had been intercepted by Skade, and she now led them in our direction. We’d been raised by Harald as siblings, yet Skade and I had always been at each other’s throats. Her mother had abandoned her, and Skade’s bitterness over it had turned her against all women, most especially those she perceived as weak. She’d terrorized the servants mercilessly until Harald had punished her for it, but that had only driven her to be more clever in her pursuits. I’d never seen Skade actually kill a woman for weakness until I saw her murder Freya’s mother, but in hindsight, I should have seen it coming. Kelda had embodied everything that she loathed.
Skade glared at me as though sensing my thoughts, but I ignored her as one of the warriors spoke.
“My king.” He bowed low. “We are relieved to see you well. When the skies grew dark in our wake and your drakkar did not reach shore with the fleet, we feared the worst.”
Harald waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing but a bit of weather.”
I scoffed. “Says the man who still stinks like vomit.”
“There is a difference between discomfort and danger,” Harald replied. “The shield maiden was never at risk of being lost to a rogue wave, and I clung to that truth. Are all other vessels accounted for?”
“Yes, my king.” The warrior adjusted the shield hanging on his back. “Most have returned to their holds and halls, as was your order. The rest have ventured to the mouth of the Rimstrom, but we waited to ensure your safe return.”
“Yes, yes,” Skade interrupted, then she reached into the group of warriors and tugged a small man forward. I recognized Guthrum immediately. Skinny as a spear shaft with tangled brown hair and an unkempt beard, Guthrum preferred living in the wilds as far from people as possible. He was entirely unchanged by the years we’d been apart, but the merlin perched on his shoulders was new.
“My king.” Guthrum bowed low, the merlin ruffling her feathers and then mimicking the gesture. “I bring fell news. Or rather, Kaja does.”
“Where is your fox?” I asked, because a small red fox had been his familiar when I’d left, and foxes couldn’t crossfuckingseas.
Guthrum’s brown eyes met mine. “Wolves. Two winters past. I rescued Kaja as a fledgling and Jord saw fit to connect our minds.”
