Chapter 38 Freya
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.
Geir snorted, not the first time I’d seen him clinging to the behaviors of the living. Like breathing. “And on the assumption Grindill has already fallen to Harald, Ylva aims to trade Bjorn for Leif?”
I nodded; it was not lost on me that Ylva had a head start. Bjorn was far from helpless, but Ylva and her warriors were familiar with his magic and would not underestimate him. What if she’d arranged the exchange already? What if Harald had Bjorn? My hands started to shake, because if he was…
I refused to allow myself to finish that thought. Refused to imagine life without Bjorn. Besides, it made more sense that Harald would attempt to bind Bjorn the same way he had Tora. Death was final, whereas a life like Tora’s gave Harald infinite possibilities for amusement. And as long as Bjorn was alive, there was hope.
“Freya?”
I twitched, realizing that I’d been silent too long. “I think Harald will agree to the trade, but it won’t save Leif in the long run. Harald will assume that Bjorn has told Ylva about him being a child of Loki, and he’ll not suffer anyone he believes knows the truth to roam free. He’ll either bind them or kill them.”
“Honorless trickster,” Geir hissed, the sound making me wince.
“Yes, but knowing that he is so gives us an idea of what he’ll do,” I said. “I don’t think he will default to force and violence to make people bend the knee. He will use guile.” Frowning at the waves, I added, “It’s a game to him, Geir. Just like in the stories of Loki himself, Harald wants to manipulate others, trick them, pull strings to make them do things they otherwise would not. It isn’t having power that gives him pleasure but the process of gaining it. Violence will only come if his back is against the wall or someone angers him. Or when he grows bored.”
“We will not give him a choice,” Geir answered. “We will find him and fall upon him like a plague, for we cannot be harmed by the weapons of mortal men.”
“But he’s surrounded by Unfated who serve him faithfully,” I reminded him, regretting having told him about his newfound invincibility. My brother’s vaingloriousness had not been reduced by death. Quite the opposite. “If you are struck by Skade’s arrows or Tora’s lightning, it will be your end.”
My brother didn’t answer, but I saw more than a few of the Skalander undead turn their heads, my words having reached their ears.
“We have to be clever,” I said. “The Nordelanders, they do not know the nature of the man they serve, and I do not wish to see a field of their dead left in our wake in order to reach Harald. We must find a way to reveal the truth to the Unfated who serve him, for without their support, I think he will run rather than stand his ground.”
“You’ve an idea of how to achieve this? They’ve no reason to believe you, especially if he denies your accusations.”
Ylva had told me that the runic magic to capture memory would only work once, and I’d used it for her, so that method was lost to me. “Steinunn.” The idea had been forming in my head for some time. “I’ll recount what happened on the island, and she will sing it. All who hear will see Harald’s change from Saga’s form to his own. Hear his trickery from his own mouth.”
“You assume they will care,” Geir said. “Harald has made their lives good off the bounty taken in raids. His trickery has been to their benefit.”
I chewed the insides of my cheeks, then shook my head. “I met many of his cabal of Unfated in my time in Nordeland, and they are for the most part good people. I cannot believe they’d choose to serve a child of Loki.”
“Perhaps.” Geir shrugged. “The question is, how will you prove this speculation? The moment Harald realizes you are alive and have escaped, all his efforts will be to silence you, and we”—he gestured at all of the warriors—“are bound to you. We exist in this realm because we swore to serve you. I believe our souls will leave our bodies if you die, and Harald will be once again victorious. No doubt he will reward his Unfated handsomely for their loyalty. In their minds, the only people he has tricked are you and Bjorn. Why should they care?”
The coast of Skaland was growing on the horizon, but rather than filling me with elation, I only felt rising unease because I’d thought showing Harald’s Unfated what had happened would be enough. That I’d be able to win this without a catastrophic loss of life, because my hands were already red with blood.
“It is better to fight,” Geir said. “Kill Harald and all those who are loyal to him. A clean victory, and Skaland will be safe. You have an army of the undead, and we have you to shield us from the Unfated. You will be victorious.”
There was logic to what my brother said. It was the way these wars had always been won in the past, but it didn’t feel right given that I knew that all of Harald’s army was deceived. It wouldn’t be glorious victory but murderous slaughter. Though I knew the prophecy of my leaving a field of dead in my wake was Harald’s fabrication, not Saga’s vision, to walk the path my brother suggested would make it reality.
Changing the subject for no other reason than because I needed to tamp down the rising sourness in my stomach, I asked, “Where is Ingrid? Is she well?”
“Selvegr. She’s well, or was when I set sail. She is certain our child is a son.”
I gave a tight nod, and I wondered if it had sunk into my brother’s soul that he would never go home. That he’d never see his family again.
Silence stretched, then Geir said, “It was a deception, that moment in Grindill when Ragnar held a blade to my neck. Ingrid was never threatened. It was a ruse to try to make you keep fighting for Snorri. Part of the deal I made with him to regain my place. I’m sorry for it, Freya. And not just for that, but for all the other moments that I stood on your back to achieve something for myself.”
My eyes prickled with tears. “I’m sorry for killing you.”
Geir laughed, and though the sound of it was strange and horrible, my heart felt stronger at hearing it. “Then let us both be grateful for a last opportunity to do right by each other.”
We stood in comfortable silence as the coast grew ahead of us, familiar mountains and fjords, though there was no sign of Harald’s fleet or Ylva’s ship. In my periphery, I saw a flash of movement in the sky, and then a merlin landed on the bow of the drakkar.
“Kaja,” I breathed, grief pooling in my stomach because I could only imagine what a blow Guthrum’s loss was to her.
Geir was staring at me, and I explained. “She is… was the familiar of one of Harald’s Unfated. He went overboard in the battle. Guthrum was a good man.” Mostly good, at any rate.
Kaja abruptly flew right atme.
Cursing, I ducked sideways. She flew away from the ship and then circled back around, flying at me again. Geir swatted at her, but I caught hold of his arm. “No! Look!”
He followed my pointing finger to a tangle of driftwood in the distance.
“She’s trying to lead us to that driftwood. Change course.”
Geir gave the order, and the helmsman changed direction even as others worked to lower the sail to slow our speed. As we drew closer, I picked out the shape of a man sprawled over the branches of the dead tree.
“Guthrum!” I shouted. “Guthrum, can you hear me?”
The man didn’t move. Whether that was because he was dead or unconscious, it was impossible to tell. Kaja flew circles above him, though, and she was unlikely to do that for anyone but her familiar.
“Guthrum!”
The swells from the drakkar rolled into the driftwood, and I sucked in a panicked breath as Guthrum slipped off the branches and under the swells. Unbelting my sword, I lifted my chain mail over my head and shoved it into Geir’s hands before diving into the sea.
Icy water closed over my head, but I ignored the sting against the venom burns on my legs and swam down to Guthrum, who floated limply below the surface. I hooked my arms under his and then kicked hard. My chest ached with the need for air, but I managed to get him to the surface, where Geir caught hold of Guthrum and hauled him in. Other of the draug did the same to me, and I toppled unceremoniously at their feet. “Is he alive?”
“Barely.” Geir pulled a spare length of canvas around Guthrum’s body, which was drained of color. “Looks like he’s been in the water this entire time. It’s amazing he’s alive.”
“He’s strong.” Retrieving a skin of water, I sat next to Guthrum and supported his head, trickling a small amount into his mouth. He swallowed, then coughed, and his eyes opened. “Freya?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
But before I’d finished saying those few short words, his eyes rolled back in his head and Guthrum was unconscious once more. I sighed and tucked the sail cloth more tightly around his body, my own wracked with shivers as I got to my feet.
“He is part of Harald’s cabal?” Geir slung an arm around my shoulders, but he was no warmer than the sea and I wriggled free.
“Yes. Harald rescued him from bad circumstances as a boy. He’s loyal.”
“Then if he lives, he’ll be the first test to see if the truth will shift those loyalties.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “If not, you will have to make a difficult choice, sister.”
“I’m not killing Guthrum.” I pulled out of his grip. “I’ll tie him up until this is over, if I have to, but I’m not killing him.”
My brother shrugged, clearly of the opinion that my thoughts on the matter would change. But I’d had enough of killing, and the only death I sought now was Harald’s. We stood in silence as the coast drew closer, though there was still no sign of Harald’s fleet.
“You said Harald took Snorri’s body,” Geir abruptly said. “Do you know why?”
“Proof he’s dead, I suppose. Proof that Bjorn was the one who killed him, because his axe leaves a distinct wound.” Memory filled my head of the meaty thunk that the axe had made, the sizzle of blood and flesh, and the smell…“Whatever his reason, it won’t be good.”
The ships drew closer to the sandy beach and I took in the coast of Skaland, noting that the tree leaves were beginning to change into fall. Reds, oranges, and yellows mixed with the greens of the pines, and a sudden sense of yearning filled my core. Sails lowered in favor of oars as we entered the shallower water. The draug drummer pounded a steady beat and my heart seemed to take up its rhythm until the ship in which I stood ran up onto the beach.
Leaping out, I took up a handful of wet sand, water running through my fingers as I took my first steps back in Skaland.
Control your fate.
Taking a breath, I turned to my army. Undead, yes, but every one of them a Skalander. “This is our home,” I said. “Our land. Our families. And though they may not know it, they are in danger. We must discover what we can about the trickster’s plans so that we might make one of our own to defeat him.”
My brother and one of the other draug had lifted the still-unconscious Guthrum out of the ship and were carrying him up the beach to where another was lighting a small fire. I followed after them, watching Kaja circle overhead and hoping that warmth and sustenance would bring him back to consciousness. But more than that, I prayed to the gods that Guthrum would hear me out. Would believe me. Because I very much needed someone among the living on my side.
And so much the better if that person was unfated.
Geir set to organizing the draug to scout and see what information they might learn, though it was not lost on anyone that the living would likely take one look at them and go running the other direction. We needed a better source of information.
I added more wood to the fire and then lifted Guthrum so that he was resting on my lap. Carefully, I gave him more water. Tiny sips so that he wouldn’t choke while I waited for the heat to warm his body. He was ghastly pale, and with his wild hair and beard, he appeared as dead as any of the draug. Yet his chest rose and fell with steady breaths, and his pulse felt strong beneath my fingertips.
Kaja landed on a piece of driftwood near us, yellow eyes fixed on her familiar. “Can you rouse him?” I asked her. “He needs to be awake to drink and to eat, else he’ll only weaken further.”
The bird’s head tilted, yellow eyes regarding me, and then she flew to land on Guthrum’s chest and began pulling out hairs from his beard.
“Stop that!” I shoved her away, but as I did, Guthrum stirred and opened his eyes. It took a moment for him to focus, but then he said, “Freya?”
“Yes. Can you drink?”
He nodded and I propped him up more while he guzzled down several more mouthfuls of water. Then with a sigh, he passed out in my arms again.
“Fuck!” I shouted, knowing that it wasn’t fair for me to put demands on a man who stood on the brink of death, but Guthrum and Kaja were an asset I desperately needed. They could discover what Harald was up to and where Bjorn was, and it felt like every moment that he slept reduced the chances of me rescuing Bjorn alive.
I lowered Guthrum to the ground and tucked the sail cloth around him. Kaja hopped down on his chest, watching me with her uncanny eyes that saw more than any animal should.
Exhaustion weighed upon my heart as I made my way over to Geir.
“Any luck?”
“He roused for a bit.” I scuffed my shoe in the sand of the beach, my eyes on the drakkar that formed my tiny fleet. “I’m afraid, Geir. What if Ylva has already traded Bjorn for Leif? What if Harald has—”
“Don’t think it.” My brother rested a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Harald is clever. He won’t kill Bjorn out of hand if he thinks that you still live. He knows Bjorn can be used against you, so trust in that, if nothing else. I have warriors ranging up the coast who will listen for information, but hopefully with warmth and rest, this Guthrum will rouse enough to aid your cause.”
“I don’t think it will be so easy. He’s loyal to Harald, and even when presented with the truth, I am not certain he can be convinced to go against him. Guthrum has a…certain respect for monsters.” Rubbing my hands up and down my chilled arms, I turned to go back to the fire.
Only to freeze.
Because Guthrum was gone.