Chapter 15 Freya
The fire in the hearth crackled and popped, and the walls of the cabin felt as though they pressed in on us as I waited for Saga to begin.
“From the moment my magic appeared in my youth, I was sought after by jarls and fishwives alike who were eager to know their futures,” Saga said, staring into the depths of her cup. “I would tell them they were fools to wish to know their fates, because with the exception of the Unfated, what will come to pass is certain and unchangeable. To know your own death accomplishes nothing but haunting your living years with an inescapable certainty. It is better not to know.”
“I don’t want to know,” I swiftly said. “I’m already haunted by what you’ve seen of my future.”
Saga’s mouth curved into a smile. “Wise.”
I sighed. “I’ve been accused of many things, but wisdom is not one of them.”
“To know one’s limitations is a form of wisdom.” She was quiet for a long moment, then continued. “To see the futures of everyone I cross paths with is a burden few can understand. To see that a child will die by drowning or that a hunter will run afoul of a bear or that a mother will risk one last pregnancy only to die in childbirth, but have no ability to save them, isn’t a gift. It’s a curse. So when I was fifteen, I left my family’s home and the village where I had been raised in order to live apart. To hide from all the futures I possibly could, though many people still sought me out.”
“Including Snorri and Harald?”
Saga nodded. “The Allfather showed me little of Snorri’s future other than that he would have sons, but each time Snorri visited me, he asked if I’d seen more. Of Harald, my godly father showed me nothing at all, but Harald did not care about the uncertainty of his future. Instead, he desired to know the futures of others, and it vexed him greatly when I refused to reveal what I knew. He’d bring me the most beautiful gifts to entice me into revealing fates, knowing full well that I never would. Both men were handsome beyond compare in their youth, so I took both as lovers. My appetite for sex was great in those years, and one man could not hope to satisfy me.”
“Both?” My cheeks flushed at her frankness. “Did that not spark jealousy between them?”
“For a long time, neither knew the other shared my bed.” Saga laughed. “Though once they discovered I was entertaining other cocks, neither was pleased. Which I always believed unfair given that Snorri was betrothed to Ylva and Harald always did as he pleased, but such is the way of powerful men. They believe the rules that bind women do not apply to them. Their friendship was always fraught, but discovering they shared me drove a wedge between them that escalated the tensions between Nordeland and Skaland.”
From most women, this would seem an unlikely tale. But Saga was both beautiful and powerful, so it was easy to understand men fighting wars to possess her.
“Always, there is conflict between jarls, endless raids and battles, but in making the conflict between two such powerful men personal, the animosity became so much worse. Especially after the Allfather graced me with visions of you and what you would achieve, though that comes later in my tale.”
“Do you regret your choice to take both as lovers?” I asked, curious. “Given the consequences?”
“I do not believe in regret.”
I wished I could feel the same. The idea of accepting the mistakes I had made rather than allowing them to consume me with guilt felt so much easier.
“Not long after they discovered they were both my lovers, I fell pregnant with Bjorn.”
“Did you know he had Tyr’s blood?” I asked. “Did…” It was too awkward for me to ask.
“I did not get to experience lovemaking with a god,” Saga clarified. “Tyr was surely there in the moment but clearly took his pleasure from watching Snorri and me together rather than participating. So I did not know at the time that my child had a god’s blood.”
My face felt aflame. “I see.”
“When my stomach began to swell, Snorri demanded that I break off my relationship with Harald.” Saga took a sip of her wine, then shook her head. “That made me very angry because he was to wed Ylva. It would be Ylva who would rule alongside him. Ylva’s children who would inherit the jarldom. I was naught to Snorri but a lover, a seer, and the soon to be mother of a child he voiced no interest in claiming. I was young, and it enraged me that he’d make demands when he gave me nothing in return. Yet I also feared for the child in my belly, for men can be cruel. So I conceded and told Harald that the friendship between us could not continue.”
Her lip quivered. “Though it hurt Harald’s heart as much as mine, he accepted my request even as he made me promise to come to him if ever my circumstances changed. He said his love for me would endure beyond this lifetime.”
I took several mouthfuls of my wine because I knew what it felt like to hear words like that. Knew what it felt like to have it not come to pass. “Did you love him?”
“Yes. But for all his faults, I also loved Snorri. He had a magnetism about him. An ability to convince me of anything. And young women are easy to fool with sweet words.”
Truer words I had never heard spoken.
“Seers cannot see their own fate.” Saga rose to add a piece of wood to the fire, though the cabin was already warm. “But the moment Bjorn was born, I saw his.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I saw him call flame. I saw him burn. I heard him scream.”
“He told me that you instructed him never to say Tyr’s name.”
“Yes.” Saga wiped away the tear. “He was four. Perhaps five years old, and Snorri had come to see me. We quarreled, and in the midst, I was overtaken by a vision more powerful than any I’d ever experienced. I fell into a trance, words spilling from my lips in a tide of a shield maiden who would unite the clans of Skaland beneath the one who controlled her fate.”
“Saga, what exactly did you see?” I pressed. “Did you see Snorri? Was it he for certain who was destined to rule? Was it he who was meant to control my fate?”
“I did not see Snorri.” Her expression was distant, as though she were watching something that was not there. “I saw your face, Freya. With eyes like fire and a crown of blood.”
I drew in a steadying breath. “So not Snorri?”
Saga lifted a shoulder. “I do not see all that is fated. Only the pieces that Odin chooses to reveal to me. Snorri believed that the Allfather had chosen to give me the vision while he was present because it was his fate, so he immediately began to hunt for you. There is no denying that his power has risen considerably since he brought you under his control, as he is now the uncontested king.” She hesitated. “He has used you to unite Skaland, Freya, and in my heart, I fear he still uses you. For the future I saw still burns bright in my mind’s eye.”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer, because of my blood oath.
Sitting back, I stared into the depths of the fire, uncertain how I felt about what she’d told me given that all I’d gained from it was more uncertainty.
“Finding children born under the blood moon became his obsession,” Saga said. “I told him often that if it was his destiny to find you that he would, but my words only enraged him. My unwillingness to confirm that he would be king was a rot on the love between us, and I began to fear him. One night he came to my cabin alone. I knew he wanted answers I could not give, and that he’d punish me for my failure. I made Bjorn hide, but as the violence I feared came to pass, my son tried to protect me. Called upon his magic for the first time and set our home ablaze. And so the fate I’d foreseen for him became reality.”
She lifted her cup, hand trembling. “All around was fire, Bjorn screaming from the burns on his back, but I managed to lift him out of the flames and carry him. Snorri tried to pursue us, but I cracked him over the head with a rock and fled. Fled to the love that had never betrayed me. To my sanctuary.”
“Harald.”
She nodded. “I would have been content to let things be. To live a quiet life in Nordeland. But Odin gifted me another vision of you. I saw thousands of dead beneath your feet with the Skjoldfjell beyond. I could not let my love and savior’s kingdom fall to ruin because I did nothing. So I vowed to change the future. I had no certainty that it was Snorri who would control your fate, but I did know your power would be the tool for Nordeland’s destruction. Snorri had stronger means for finding you, so I ordered that we use him to find you and then send you to the gods. That way the future I saw would be rewoven. And yes,” she gave a soft laugh, “to have vengeance upon him for what he did to me and Bjorn.”
“So you sent Bjorn to watch for me.”
“That was my plan. To arrange for Snorri to finally succeed in rescuing Bjorn, who would then feign love and gratitude until you were discovered, when he would strike the blow that would save Nordeland. But my son could not kill you, Freya, and he has sought to protect you every step of the way. He has been his true self.”
“He lied to me.” I drew in a ragged breath. “Over and over, he lied.”
“The only way he could have risked the truth was to steal you,” Saga explained. “To take you to Nordeland, where you could do no harm with the truth. For to have revealed his goals while you shared a house with Snorri risked you turning on him and, in doing so, cursing Nordeland to the fate he’d sacrificed so much to prevent.”
I found myself on my feet, though I didn’t remember standing. “So you believe what Bjorn did was right? That I should forgive him for lying to me?”
Silence stretched between us, and between the tension and the heat of the air, it was hard to breathe.
Finally, Bjorn’s mother said, “ Right depends on perspective, Freya. From Nordeland’s perspective, right would have been killing you or taking you somewhere you could do no damage. So no, I do not think what my son did was right because he risked many lives. But I think that is not the same reason you believe his actions were not right. You care only about your hurt feelings. About the damage to your trust in him. You think only of yourself, and knowing that you are Hel’s child, your callousness to others makes a great deal of sense.”
My own anger flared, because I wanted to blame Bjorn. Except Saga’s words forced me to accept that he’d had no good choice. No choice that was right for all involved. I wanted to tell myself that, if he’d have been truthful, I would have heard him out and considered my actions, except I knew otherwise. Nordeland was a known foe, and to have learned that Bjorn fought loyally for them would have turned me against him. Would have caused me to reveal the truth to Snorri in order to protect my people.
“Shit,” I hissed, pacing back and forth across the small space, trying to logically sort through what I had learned while my emotions raged in every direction. Trying to put the good of the many ahead of the hurt in my heart. But it was as though my heart had put her fingers in her ears, refusing to listen to anything that countered how she felt.
“You do not have to forgive him,” Saga said. “I might not forgive him, for I hate being lied to. But do not think that holding on to your anger makes you good and righteous, Freya. It only makes you like every other woman.”
I felt suddenly sick to my stomach, doubt twisting my guts like I’d eaten something rotten.
Was I wrong to be angry with him?
Was I only trying to use Bjorn as a scapegoat when the real problem wasme?
Saga rose, circling the table to wrap a slender arm around me. “I’ve upset you. I’m sorry. Isolation may be a blessing to me, but I think it is a curse to anyone who is forced to bear my company, for I say what I think without thought for how it might hurt.”
“You haven’t said anything that isn’t true,” I answered. “I…I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to die but neither do I want thousands of people to die because of what Hel’s power can do.”
Reaching up, she tucked behind my ear a lock of hair that had come loose from my braid. “Be kind to yourself, Freya. You are but a few years out of girlhood, and you were not raised to cope with the expectations placed upon you. Wisdom comes from years of experience and from learning from one’s past mistakes. Your situation has been made worse as those around you have given poor guidance.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks, an ache at Bodil’s loss rising fresh in my chest, for it felt as though she was the only one who had guided me true.
“You must take a breath.” Saga gestured for me to sit back down. “Take time to consider all that has happened and all that you hope will happen before you decide on a path forward.”
This seemed like reasonable advice, so I sat.
Bjorn chose that moment to return, stepping inside holding a rabbit who’d clearly met a swift end courtesy of a magic axe. I’d normally have made a comment about overkill but I felt suddenly without the energy to say much of anything at all.
“Is rabbit acceptable to you?” he asked, lifting itup.
“It is fine,” Saga replied. “Clean and dress it, and then I think you can do the cooking.”
“I’ll do it,” I mumbled.
Bjorn huffed out a breath. “Are you that afraid of my cooking, Born-in-Fire?”
I shook my head, then crossed the room and took the rabbit from his hand. “Are Skoll and Hati outside?”
“Yes.” He caught my wrist, and I looked up at him as he said, “Are you all right?”
I forced a smile on my face. “I’m fine.”
A lie. Because I’d believed that hearing Saga’s truth would make me feel better. Stronger. Ready to do what needed to be done.
Instead, all I felt was worse.