Chapter 39 Bjorn
Snorri stood before me. But not my sire, because I’d watched Snorri die from injuries that I’d given him.
Harald.
“Mother!” Leif bolted forward to fling his arms around Ylva, whose face had blanched an awful shade of gray as she stared at the man masquerading as her husband.
“What possessed you to venture onto the strait? Father and I have been in a panic that you were lost at sea. That perhaps you’d been caught in the Hel-child’s curse,” Leif said. “The relief I felt when news came that your drakkar had been spotted…” He exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m so happy you are safe.”
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Quite fine.”
“I told you she’d be fine,” Harald said in perfect mimicry of my father’s voice. “Njord himself wouldn’t dare get in your mother’s way. Though I see she has brought us a prize.”
Skade shoved me forward.
Leif’s head turned, seeing me for the first time. “Traitor!” He reached for the sword belted at his waist, but Harald-as-Snorri caught hold of his arm.
“Your brother is my problem, Leif. His betrayal will be punished in due course.” He gave Leif a push toward the rear door. “Go now. Spread the word that the traitor has been caught.”
“Ragnar, go with—” Ylva’s shaky voice broke off as she scanned the stunned warriors in the room and found the man missing.
I cursed silently as Skade scowled, finally realizing that Ragnar had slipped away. I’d hoped he’d have a longer head start.
Leif hesitated, then obeyed, but as he walked past me, he spat in my face. “You are no brother of mine. You’re a traitor. A slave to the Hel-child’s will. The blood eagle is what you deserve.”
I flinched. There was no question that I deserved his ire, but it still cut like a knife.
“Leif, go,” Harald-as-Snorri said wearily. “You must stand in for me while I deal with this ugly matter.”
My brother stormed to the rear door, passing Tora as he left.
Her eyes widened in shock at the sight of me, but Harald-as-Snorri said, “Tora, if you’d make sure the rear door is secure. This is not a conversation I wish overheard.”
Tora obeyed without hesitation, but I didn’t miss the flicker of hatred in her eyes. It made me question whether I’d been oblivious for years that this tension sat between them or if the conflict was new. A question I might never get an answer to, but what I did know was that if there was a way to break the control Harald had on Tora, she’d be an ally. And a dangerous one at that.
Ylva was shaking. Lifting a finger to point at Harald, she cried, “You are not my husband, child of Loki! You are a trickster!”
Harald-as-Snorri sighed. “This is what I get for leaving loose ends.”
“Kill him!” Ylva shrieked, and the Skalander warriors unsheathed their weapons. But Harald-as-Snorri only waved a hand and said, “Skade, deal with this, please.”
Bound, bleeding, and gagged, there was nothing I could do as Skade’s bow appeared in her hands, the green brand spiraling in loops and arcs around the room, punching through throats in rapid succession until every one of the warriors was on the ground gasping. Dying.
Harald-as-Snorri had clapped his hand over Ylva’s mouth to silence her screams. When Skade’s arrow had finished its bloody business, he moved his mouth close to her ear. “Behave or I will gut Leif in front of you. Am I understood?”
She gave a tight nod, and he kissed her cheek before letting go of her. Ylva staggered, gagging once before regaining her composure. Harald-as-Snorri walked away from her. Just as before, his skin seemed to move like softening wax, shifting in shape and color, until he was Harald once more.
Motion caught my eye. Skoll and Hati rose from where they’d sat in the shadows, moving to Harald’s side. He stroked their fur, tracing a finger over the markings painted onto their heads that ensured their loyalty.
“This is why killing people is rarely the best solution.” He gestured to the bodies. “It’s always such a mess to clean up. Tora, think of a solution that makes this disappear.”
“There are drains for waste that lead into the river,” Tora said. “The bodies will be unrecognizable after they go over the falls, and what is left will go to the sea.”
“See it done,” Harald ordered. “Then clean up the blood. I wish it to be as though they were never here.”
“Most have families in Grindill.” Ylva stared at the faces of the warriors that she’d brought to their deaths. “There will be questions.”
“For which you will provide answers that steer them away from suspicion.” Harald stroked Hati’s head, again tracing the markings painted on the wolf’s fur. It was a nervous tic of his that belied his feigned composure. “Deceit, darling Ylva, is how you will earn your keep and ensure Leif’s continued longevity. By being the lady of Grindill, the wife of the king, the queen that all of Skaland trusts without question. You will keep Snorri’s rule alive.”
“Your rule, you mean,” Ylva whispered, her gaze tracking Tora as she carried the bodies of the fallen to the drains.
Harald let out the strange giggle he’d used on the island, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “Well, yes. Though all of Skaland will believe that Snorri and Harald have formed an alliance. Enemies who are friends again after slaying the Hel-child, who cursed Skaland’s warriors, murdered Saga, and then turned her sights on the warriors of Nordeland. If only we’d united sooner, your warriors might all still live.” He smirked.
My jaw clenched because there was no easy way to prove his lies, given that everyone who had witnessed what had really happened was dead. Harald’s gaze drifted to me. “Though I see we may have a problem with the latter part of my narrative. Tell me, is Freya alive?”
“I was told she remained imprisoned where you left her,” Skade said when Ylva didn’t answer. “I would happily travel there and put an end to her, Father. My arrow doesn’t miss.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Harald agreed. “Though the same cannot be said for your eyes. Where is this Ragnar?”
Skade’s cheeks colored. “Said he needed to piss. He’s likely in Grindill, somewhere.”
“Is likely good enough given that Ragnar knows where the Hel-child is imprisoned, among other things?” The last came out in a vicious snarl, and I bit down on the gag as Harald backhanded Skade with enough force that she sprawled across the floor.
“Where is your man Ragnar?” he then demanded of Ylva. “What orders did you give him?”
“I know not,” she answered. “It wasn’t under my order that he departed.”
Seeing violence rising in Harald, I coughed around my gag and Harald turned his glare on me. Closing the distance between us, he wrenched the gag out of my mouth. Then he backhanded me. “Where is he?”
“Go fuck yourself.” I spat on the floor before him.
Reaching down, Harald unraveled the bandage around my shoulder, then shoved his fingers into the hole left by Skade’s arrow. I bit down on a scream even as the world around me spun with pain and stars, and when they cleared, I was sideways on the floor.
“You are predictable, Bjorn.” Harald loomed over me. “Your loyalty to those who earn your affection makes you so, just as it makes you easy to manipulate. There is only one place you would have sent Ragnar, and that is to liberate your lover.”
He turned away, and I started to laugh, spitting out blood as I did. “I told him to spread the word, child of Loki. To whisper into the ear of every person he sees that Snorri is dead and that it is Harald of Nordeland who wears his face. I told him to seek out the village gossips, the fishwives, and orphans who trade in information. To buy a cup of mead for every foreign merchant or sailor he meets and tell the tale of the king who wears faces and trades in lies and deception. Harald, king of tricksters, king of lies, and soon, I wager, king of nothing.”
A desperate lie, but I wanted them to search everywhere but the island where I’d left Freya. Ragnar was her only chance.
“He’s spinning tales,” Skade spat. “He’d not sacrifice his only chance to save Freya. Send me after her, Father, and I will lay a trap for Ragnar.”
“Ragnar would not free Freya,” Ylva said, and I wasn’t sure if she believed that or if she was trying to buy her warrior time to escape. “He knows what a danger she poses to us all.”
“Born-in-Fire is very dangerous.” I dragged my legs under me, managing to get upright even though blood was running fresh down my chest and back. “And she has grown to be very cunning. Do you really think the daughter of death is so easily defeated, trickster? You should have killed her when you had the chance.”
“I tied the wards to Freya’s life,” Ylva said. “They will hold until she breathes her last. My wards are good—that monster will never walk free.”
I scoffed at her. “You think death will stop Hel’s daughter from having vengeance?”
My words were bluster, yet the entire hall fell entirely silent.
“Oh, gods.” Ylva lifted a hand to her mouth in horror that I was fairly confident was feigned, for she was not a woman easily shaken.
“What?” Harald demanded. “Spit out your concerns, woman.”
“Runic magic only holds power over the living. If Freya dies, the wards will not hold her.”
“Are you suggesting Freya might be loose?” Harald demanded. “That she’s dead…yet living? An unfated draug? Or something else?”
“I don’t know!” Tears rolled down Ylva’s face. “I do not know the extent of the powers Hel has granted her. You know more of her magic than I do. Do you believe she might have escaped?”
Harald’s fingers twitched, and though his face was a blank mask, I could feel the tension seething out of him as he weighed which threat was greater: stopping Ragnar from spreading his secret or ensuring that Freya was no longer a threat.
“You will hunt Ragnar down,” he finally snapped at Skade. “Silence him, and then sail to the island and kill the Hel-child, then burn the corpse. Take Skoll and Hati, and go!”
“Yes, Father,” Skade whispered, wiping blood from her split lip and hurrying past Tora, who didn’t hide her smile at seeing the other woman brought low. Harald noted it as well, his glower deepening, and he snapped, “Ensure the door is secured behind her else you’ll have more bodies to dispose of.”
“Yes, my king.” Tora heaved a corpse over her shoulder and followed after Skade and the wolves, leaving bloody footprints in her wake. Harald glared at the mess in frustration.
Ragnar, for all his skills, was a dead man, because Skade always caught her quarry. But he’d bought Freya more time. More than that, he’d revealed that Harald was not in control, his plans coming apart at the seams. The secret he’d kept his whole life, on which hung every one of his schemes, was loose in the world. If I knew anything, it was that nothing infuriated him more than losing control.
“I think your ambition has stretched beyond your skill, Father, ” I said. “It’s one thing to keep up the pretense of the life of a reclusive woman no one ever sees, quite another to keep up the pretense of the life of a king. I see your plans fraying like a poorly made tapestry, and with it your control over your own fate.”
He backhanded me, but I just spat blood and laughed. “You spent too much time in my mother’s form, Harald. You hit like an old woman.”
Harald drew the knife belted at his waist. “You have outlived your usefulness. Just as your mother did.” His smile was vicious. “I still remember how she screamed as she burned in the fire of your making. It was not quick. But I’ve learned my lesson about indulging in the pleasure of slow deaths.”
I had not known it possible to hate someone as much as I hated him, and it drowned out any fear I might have for my own life.
Harald lifted his knife. “Give my regards to your mother when you reach Helheim.”
Ylva caught his wrist. “Wait. He is still useful.”
Harald turned his head, listening.
“If the Hel-child has escaped,” Ylva said, “we must catch her and kill her. Use Bjorn as bait, Harald, for Freya will surely come for him.”
“I distrust your wisdom, Ylva.” Harald crossed his arms. “And feel inclined to do the opposite.”
Tora came back into the hall, bending to collect another body. Though no one paid her any attention, I knew that she was listening to everything that was being said.
“Bjorn killed my husband.” A tear trickled down Ylva’s cheek. “Killed him in cold blood. There is no one who wishes him dead more than I do, but not at the cost of my son. All things that I do are for Leif’s well-being, which means I must set aside matters of the heart in favor of cold logic. To rule Skaland, you need me. To keep me, Leif must be well. Knowing this, I believe that your success will be my son’s success. And,” she swallowed hard, “if Freya has escaped through means other than death, Leif has the capacity to control her. She is bound to serve his blood.”
My jaw clenched, because even with Snorri dead the burden of those oaths remained on Freya’s shoulders.
Rather than appeasing him, Harald turned on Ylva, pressing the knife to her throat. “Understand this, woman. If you try to cross me in any way, your son will die. Die badly, die slowly, and I assure you, there will be no honor in it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord.” Ylva inclined her head. “I suggest you make a spectacle of Bjorn’s death. A traitor’s death, for all those his actions harmed to witness. If Freya is free, she will aim to rescue him and we will catch her. We need a few days to set our trap, but also to ensure Bjorn is strong enough to endure the worst of tortures.”
Ylva was buying me time. Freya time. Not because she’d forgiven what I’d done to Snorri, but because she had realized that Freya was our best chance at salvation. Ylva was nothing if not pragmatic, and she knew she had erred in her decisions. But her regret was not enough to risk Leif, so time was the only thing she’d giveme.
Harald was silent, eyes distant as he considered, then his face began to melt like wax, re-forming as Snorri. Lowering the knife, he leaned down and kissed Ylva on the lips. “I see why my old rival valued you so, Ylva. You will be a good queen.”
It was a struggle not to look away.
“Yes, my king.” The slight tightening of Ylva’s jaw was the only emotion on her face. “I will not disappoint you.”
“Tora, have Volund patch Bjorn together so he doesn’t bleed to death. He is to be confined under your watch and you will do whatever it takes to keep him from escaping,” Harald-as-Snorri said. “Come, wife. Let us announce our plans to Skaland. What better way to celebrate the union between Skaland and Nordeland than to execute the man who betrayed both?”
Keep fighting, Born-in-fire, I silently whispered, then my strength finally failed me and the world fell into darkness.