Chapter 20 Freya
The speed at which we traveled did not allow for conversation, our attention all for keeping our horses upright on the rough trail while the wolves raced through the trees on either side. Though the weight of too much wine and too little sleep should have rendered me exhausted, I practically trembled with anticipation.
I’d traveled to see Saga in the hope of finding answers, and though there had been dark moments when it had felt like a fool’s hope, I now had what I’d come for.
I had a goal. Something I could relentlessly drive toward knowing I was on the correct course. It gave me a sense of validation for the uncertainty I’d felt about fleeing with Bjorn. Because I felt no uncertainty now.
We stopped long after the sun had set to rest the horses and eat. While our dinner cooked, I warmed my hands over the fire and stared at Bjorn’s axe beneath the pile of smoldering wood. Waited for him to start arguing against my plan, all my counterarguments ready to deploy. Yet he was silent and entirely focused on digging through his bag, perhaps because he had the wisdom to realize that my arguments were the strongest.
Extracting his hand from the bag, he reached over the fire and handed me a jar.
I opened it and inhaled a familiar scent.
“I made it while you two were drinking Harald’s wine. The herbs I found were old, for it seems my mother has been lax in her gathering, but it’s better than lanolin. You smelled like a sheep. That’s probably why the wolves are so taken with following you about.”
I rolled my eyes, but there was no denying that the heady scent of cloves was much superior to the salve Harald’s servants provided me. Yet the smell reminded me of past moments. There was a part of me that desperately wanted Bjorn to take care of my scars so that I could feel his skin against mine. Feel the strength of his fingers working the tension out of the old injury. Yet even though wine cast a haze over my memories of last night, I still felt the flush of shame at his rejection. Especially given that he’d been in the right.
My anger toward Bjorn was fading, but all of my distrust remained. Maybe that did make me selfish and childish, but after a lifetime of being used by men, I was not sure I had any forgiveness left in my heart for the choices they made that harmed me. To be with someone I couldn’t forgive would be like living with a curse hanging over my head, constantly reminding me of past transgressions and never giving me any peace. Perhaps my destiny was to be alone. To be my own rock in the storm. To take care of myself until the end of my days.
Digging out a glob of the salve, I set to working on my own scars. The relief to my stiffness was almost instantaneous, and yet I kept rubbing at my skin until the friction created a different sort of pain. “I was expecting an argument. For you to tell me what a foolish plan this is and that it is destined to fail.”
“It’s not a foolish plan.” His axe disappeared from beneath the firewood, and the forest grew darker with only natural fire to illuminate our surroundings. “It is a dangerous plan.”
“It’s only dangerous if you refuse to help.”
Bjorn rested his elbows on his knees. “Taking your leash from Snorri only to hold it myself sits poorly with me. I don’t want…” He broke off and shook his head.
“It’s out of necessity,” I said. “Surely you see that?”
“Necessity according to whom?”
I stared at him. “According to the Allfather. You…you aren’t questioning his wisdom, are you?”
“When my mother spoke of the vision he showed her, no mention was made of me. This is a solution that you and my mother have come up with, so yes, I do question whether it is necessity. ”
Closing the jar of salve, I set it aside. “Offer an alternative, then.”
“Maybe you are more capable of resisting Snorri’s orders than you realize. When Harald brought his army to Grindill, you refused the order to fight. I heard you with my own ears.”
“An order given by Ylva, not Snorri.” I sighed. “The moment that Snorri began giving me orders on the battlements, I did what he asked.”
Bjorn lifted his head, green eyes appearing black in the dim light. “Fine. Then kill the volva whose magic binds your oath. With it broken, you’ll be free and can stick your enchanted sword through Snorri’s heart and let the gods decide who will take his soul.”
I blinked, horror rising in my chest. “Murder Ylva?”
Bjorn shrugged. “She’s far from innocent, I assure you of that. Much of my mother’s plight at Snorri’s hands was driven by her jealousy, so I would not weep over her death. I’ll do it, if you wish.”
The callousness with which he suggested murdering a woman who might not be innocent but certainly didn’t deserve to die caused me to draw back. To look at him in a different light.
“Or perhaps I just order you to leave Nordeland with me,” Bjorn said. “You are bound to serve me, yes? Your allegiance is to me, correct?” He rose to his feet. “Then I call you to arms against Islund. Those bastards have been a thorn in my arse for long years, and I wish for you to fight at my side to kill as many of them as possible. We leave now.”
I felt the sudden urge to get to my feet. To reach for my sword and shield. Only to realize my hand was already closed around the pommel of my weapon. And that I was already standing.
Nausea coursed through me because how many times had I obeyed Snorri’s directive believing myself acting of my own free will when it had only been the oath driving my actions? Looking back, it was impossible for me to tell.
“I changed my mind.” Bjorn sat back down across the fire, brow creased with a scowl.
“You arsehole.” I sucked in breath after breath, hating the sense of powerlessness that I felt.
“However you feel, know that it feels worse to me,” he snapped. “Because now I can’t help but wonder how much you’ve done because you wanted to and how much was influenced by the oath.”
Bile burned in my throat as comprehension reared in my mind. “No…” I whispered. “It was me. I swear, it was my choice.”
“How can you know?”
I crossed my arms, trying to ward away the chill.
“I’ll follow you down this path, Born-in-Fire,” he said. “I’ll fight at your side to see this through. But you’ve spent your life serving at the whims of men, allowing them to control you, and despite knowing that suffering, hating that suffering, your solution is to serve yet again.”
I flinched, feeling like I’d been slapped.
“I refuse to control you.” Bjorn picked up a stick and jabbed at the fire, sending an explosion of embers skyward. “And that order I just gave you? Consider it the last that will ever pass my lips.”
“Even if it costs the lives of thousands of Nordelanders?” I asked.
“If it comes to that, I’ll already be dead.” Taking the pot off the fire, he ladled portions into two bowls, then handed me one.
I stared at the contents. “I’m not hungry.”
“Neither am I.” Bjorn dumped out the contents of his bowl. “If there is news to be had of Snorri setting sail, Harald will be the first to know.”
I dumped out my own bowl, the wolves rushing to eat the steaming meat. “Then let’s ride.”