Page 94 of A Curse Carved in Bone
Keep fighting, Born-in-fire,I silently whispered, then my strength finally failed me and the world fell into darkness.
“No signs of Harald’s fleet, nor his warriors, shield maiden,” the Skalander draug rasped in the strange voice of the undead that I still hadn’t gotten used to. “Nor sign of the child of Jord or his familiar.”
It was no shock to me that they hadn’t managed to catch Guthrum. He was a man who belonged far more to the wilds than to civilization, and the only way we’d manage to find him would be if he was dead. I was still struck with anger at myself whenever I thought of how easily he escaped, but in truth, not only had I believed him too unwell to run, I’d also not thought he’d have the desire to. A mistake on my part, because Kaja had obviously told him enough that he’d decided fleeing the best course. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d go to Harald, which meant that my enemy would soon know I had escaped and that I had an army of my own.
“We’ll continue pressing down the coast toward Torne,” Geir said. “If Ylva was correct that Grindill was his target, Torne is where his ships will be beached.”
I nodded, reaching down to retrieve my shield and slinging it over my shoulder. We’d been working our way down the coast, the undead nature of my army necessitating that we avoid contact with villages lest we be perceived as cause for alarm rather than salvation, but thus far there had been no sign that Harald’s fleet had attacked. Many of the draug believed this meant Ylva was mistaken and that Harald had returned to Nordeland, but I knew better. It just meant that he wasn’t attempting to achieve his plans with force.
“Gods, you smell bad,” I muttered to my brother as he fell in alongside me. “It will be the stink that warns Harald we are coming.”
“No one to blame for that but yourself,” Geir retorted, rubbing his head. Much of his once thick blond hair had fallen out, leaving bald patches of his scalp visible, though his beard remained thick as ever, the rings on it shining in the sun. They were all rotting, my army, their bodies decaying with every passing hour, and though it didn’t seem to hinder their mobility, I knew it must impact their sanity. What I was doing to them couldn’t go on forever, which meant the time I had to defeat Harald was limited.
Climbing into a drakkar, I scanned the horizon while the oars dug into the waves, pulling us toward Torne. We passed the entrance of the fjord on which Selvegr, the village I’d once called home, was located.
“Did you see her?” I asked quietly, knowing that Geir had gone to ensure that Ingrid was unharmed and safe, living with her father.
“Yes.” His fingers tightened where they gripped the edge of the ship, skin a terrible hue of gray. “She is well.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks. “Did you…Did you speak to her?”
My brother shook his head. “I didn’t wish to frighten her.” Lifting his hands, Geir examined them with his glowing green eyes. “Better for her to remember me how I was than like this.”
Part of me agreed. To see the one you loved as the undead, rotting and horrifying, was not the last memory you should have of them. But another part of me wondered if it would be worth it to have a chance to say goodbye. To have one final moment and the closure that came withit.
Something that I’d been robbed of with Bjorn.
My eyes burned, and I scrubbed at them, angry at myself for even considering that he might be dead. Yet grief and fear still clawed my insides, because it felt like such a cruel twist to have united our hearts once again only to be torn apart for good.
“Not for good,” I hissed at myself, then shook my head when Geir looked askance. “You know her heart, Geir. Whatever choice you made is the right one.”
“Will you tell her that I love her?” His eyes met mine, and though they were entirely inhuman, I saw the grief in them. “Take care of her once the day is won?”
I nodded, then forced a grin onto my face. “When your child grows older, I shall tell them how you fought back from Hel’s grasp to win a great battle and a place in Odin’s hall. It will be a story for skalds to tell through the ages, and your child will have the honor of bearing your name.”
Geir frowned, and I winced, afraid I’d said the wrong thing, but then my attention was caught by the true source of his concern. Two riders galloped down the beach, one in pursuit of the other. It was too far to make out their faces clearly, but as I lifted my hand to shade my eyes, the pursuer straightened on her horse, a glowing bow and arrow appearing in her hand. And to either side of her ran Skoll and Hati.
“Skade!” I snarled. “Head for shore!”
Geir called the order, the rowers picking up speed. Yet as they did, Skade let loose her bowstring. The green arrow flew through the air, striking the pursued horse in the haunches. The animal went down, the rider flipping through the air. He hit the sand and rolled, on his feet in a flash and running.
“It’s Ragnar!” one of my warriors shouted.
My heart lurched, because if Skade was pursuing Ragnar, it meant that Ylva’s plan to exchange Bjorn for Leif had not gone as planned. “Faster!” I shouted. “Archers, shoot her!”
The drakkar’s drums caught Skade’s attention, her eyes widening as she recognizedme.
“Try it, you murderous bitch,” I hissed, calling magic to my shield. But instead of shooting her brand toward me, Skade aimed at Ragnar’s back. Ragnar, who might well be the only person alive who knew Bjorn’s fate. “Kill her!”
My archers shot arrows, but they fell short. I screamed in fury as she released her bowstring, the deadly slice of green flying through the air to punch through Ragnar’s back. He fell, and rolled, then lay still in the sand.
The drakkar ran up on the beach, my warriors spilling out in pursuit of Skade. I joined them, sword in hand, chasing her up the beach. Hel’s name started to rise to my lips, but I knew it would be wasted words. The goddess of death would not claim an Unfated without a reason worth angering the other gods, and I highly doubted this situation warranted it. But on horseback, the huntress swiftly outpaced us, cutting onto the road at a gallop. She looked over her shoulder and screamed Skoll and Hati’s names, but the wolves had paused on the beach, their eyes onme.
“Geir,” I shouted. “Have some of your men follow her. She’ll lead us to Harald!”
He nodded, calling out orders that I barely heard as I raced to Ragnar’s prone form. Two of my warriors had stopped next to him, rolling the man over. Sand clung to his skin, and blood oozed from a hole just below his collarbone.
But he was alive.
