Chapter 42 Freya
We waited until night was fully upon us, then crept down the river Torne until we were in sight of Grindill’s walls. A thick rope was tied to a tree and the other end secured to one of the sturdier warriors who then trudged out into the water carrying a heavy rock to keep him on the riverbed. The others eased him downstream, running out the rope until he reached the base of the fortress.
I paced back and forth through the trees, each passing minute feeling like a lifetime while we waited for him to find the entrance to the tunnel that led under the fortress.
“There’s the signal,” Geir said, letting go of the rope. “Two long pulls followed by three short. He’s in.” My brother gestured to the group of warriors he’d selected. “Go!”
The warriors waded out into the depths and disappeared beneath the surface, using the rope to guide themselves downstream.
“Our turn.” Geir began fastening another length of rope to his waist before handing the other end to me. “You sure you wish to do this, Freya? I can speak to Steinunn as surely as you.”
“She has to hear the story from me for her magic to work.” I fastened the rope around my own waist, checking my knots twice. “I’ll be fine. Just don’t let go of me.”
My brother checked his own knots again, then took hold of the main rope. “Let’s go.”
The chill of the water bit into my skin as I followed him into the river and took hold of a large piece of deadfall that one of the other warriors handed me. “Keep low and behind the branches,” the female draug said. “They have patrols on the wall and they watch the water.”
I gave a tight nod, shivers wracking my body. “I won’t let them see me.”
Geir disappeared beneath the surface, and I held my position until he gave a firm tug. Then I lowered myself into the water and let the current take me. It took only a moment for me to overtake Geir, the rope between us going taut. Keeping behind the branches I clung to, I kicked against the current and prayed to all the gods that those on the walls wouldn’t notice a branch moving slower than everything else on the river as we pressed nearer to Grindill.
I sank lower in the water so that only my nose was above the surface as we drew closer. The walls were well lit with torches, and I counted at least seven warriors on the side facing the river, all attentive at their posts. One man’s eyes latched onto my piece of wood and my heart lurched, but then his gaze jumped away from me. Hopefully drawn by the light of the fires in the distance that other draug had lit as a distraction.
I slipped alongside the wall, the branches no longer enough to hide me from anyone who looked down.
My pulse roared in my ears because this was the moment. Drawing in a deep breath, I let go of the branch and dropped beneath the surface.
All around me was blackness and cold, and if not for the rope around my waist that kept me from being swept away, it would have felt like a void of nothingness.
I pulled myself toward Geir. Hand over hand, the effort it took far greater than I’d anticipated.
The need to breathe grew with every passing second, as did my panic that I’d mistimed my dive.
Then I collided with something solid.
Geir.
Feeling along his arms, I found the rope that would lead me to the tunnel opening and swiftly drew myself alongit.
My chest was burning, instinct screaming that I swim back to the surface.
Except that if I did, I’d be seen. All it would take is one arrow shot from the wall and my destiny would be cut short.
The fibers of the rope cut into my palms as I desperately pulled myself along. The darkness grew more absolute, the current diminishing.
I was in the tunnel.
Except it was completely submerged and thick with debris.
I had to move faster. Had to find air.
But as I tried to hurry through the debris, I was jerked back by the rope fastened between me and my brother.
I clawed with desperation at the knots binding it around my waist.
Air. Air. I needed air!
The knots came loose and I half swam, half dragged myself down the tunnel. My chest was spasming, the need to breathe terrifying. Agonizing.
Then hands closed around my wrists and I was jerked upward.
My head broke the surface of the water, and I gasped in a mouthful of air. For the first few breaths, all I felt was relief. Then the stench of shit, piss, and worse accosted me. Gagging, I called my magic and covered my fist with it, illuminating the tunnel.
And the dead aroundme.
Not undead, though my draug were present, but the warriors who’d accompanied Ylva. I bit down on my other hand to curb the scream that threatened to rise, because they were bobbing around me, cold limbs bumping my body, eyes sightless yet staring.
Geir emerged from the depths. He looked around, then took my arm and led me farther along the tunnel where I had only filthy water to contend with.
“They must have thought the corpses would go into the river, over the falls, and out to sea. But no one has cleared the tunnel in so long that they got caught up in the debris,” he whispered. “But their mistake is to our advantage, as it is yet more proof that Snorri is not Snorri, for why would he murder his own men?”
I gave a tight nod and kept moving, sloshing through the murk to where the tunnel curved and turned vertical. Light filtered in from above, along with laughter and voices.
“The great hall,” Geir whispered. “We wait until they go to sleep, then climb and find Steinunn.”
The person I was desperate to find was Bjorn, but he’d be the one under guard. If I took him, Harald would know that we’d infiltrated Grindill and my plans to reveal his secret to all those who gathered for the execution would be ruined. I was risking Bjorn’s life to defeat Harald, and that fact was like a knife twisting in my gut, but I knew he’d tell me to do it with no hesitation.
We stood in silence listening to shouts and laughter, the only break in the monotony when the servants tossed waste down the opening into the drain. I was glad for the darkness so as not to have to see what floated past. But then a familiar voice filtered down from above.
“You promised I would have vengeance, Harald.” Steinunn sounded close to tears. “You promised that at the end of this, Snorri would suffer for murdering my family. Instead, you’ve formed an alliance with him, and rather than suffering, he is currently drunk on mead and servicing Ylva in the comforts of his room! Worse still, you promised that the shield maiden who gave him power was dead, yet Skade has revealed that not only is Freya alive, but she has also returned to Skaland with an army of the dead.”
I caught hold of Geir’s arm, a sudden thrill running through me because if they were at odds, this would make my task far easier.
“It is a mystery to both Snorri and me how she survived,” Harald answered, and I could tell he was struggling to reconcile the lies he’d told with all that had happened since. “She was imprisoned by magic on an island in the middle of the strait with no shelter and no sustenance. Anyone who attempted to approach her risked being dragged to Helheim, and we were certain that the elements would see her swiftly to her death. No one is more shocked than I am to discover she yet lives.”
“And your alliance with Snorri? Are you equally shocked by that ?” Steinunn’s voice was full of venom, and Harald was silent.
“Sweet Steinunn, I know this pains you,” he finally said. “I know that seeing Snorri thrive is a knife to your heart but have faith that the fate he deserves will soon be delivered upon him.”
“You’re saying this is a ruse?”
“Of course it’s a ruse.” Harald’s voice was soothing. “For me, but for Snorri as well. Freya sent most of his warriors to Helheim, so he has no choice but to accept the pretense that we are now friends, united by our common enemy, the Hel-child. Nothing would please me more than to slaughter him in his bed for the harm he has done to those I love, but that would be oil on the flames of the conflict between Nordeland and Skaland. More war, more violence, and more families torn asunder. I don’t want that any more than you do, so I have set aside my own hurts and work to establish a lasting peace between our nations before I give Snorri his due.”
“I do not know how much longer I can endure this.” Steinunn was crying now. “Every moment spent in his presence makes me sick. I want it to be over.”
Harald sighed. “I know you do. But I also know that you have the strength to press through this trial for the sake of protecting others who might be forced to endure the same pain you did if we immediately turn to violence. Skaland and Nordeland both need to heal after the horror that Freya has inflicted, so we must turn to guile.”
More voices approached, and Harald and Steinunn fell silent until they passed. Then Harald said, “Allow me to escort you to your bed, Steinunn. You must rest, because I need you, as I always have. Please do not allow your faith in me to falter.”
“I will stand strong,” Steinunn whispered. “You have never failed me, my king. Not ever.”
They departed, and I released my grip on my brother’s arm. “She doesn’t know,” I whispered. “She has no idea that he’s a child of Loki and playing both parts.”
It felt like it took an eternity for the revelers above to drink themselves into sleep, but finally, in what must have been the hours just before dawn, the great hall fell silent.
Geir took hold of my waist and lifted me, my feet finding his shoulders as I reached for the lip of the opening and then heaved myself out. Nervous sweat added to the dampness of my palms, and the second I stood straight, both my knees cracked, the noise deafening.
I grabbed Geir’s wrist as he jumped up, gagging as skin gave way beneath my palm so that I was gripping tendon and bone. But it seemed to cause him no grief, and my brother climbed out, whispering to his warriors to hold their ground unless they heard trouble. Then we both put on the cloaks we’d brought, lifting the hoods. Hiding our identities, but not the stink we’d picked up in our passage through the drains.
Geir linked arms with me, both of us walking with the swaying gait of people deep in their cups and looking for a bed. The hall was quiet but for the distant sounds of people coupling, and Geir whispered, “You know where her room is?”
I nodded, leading him toward the stairs. Unlike most great halls, Grindill was built with a great deal of stone, and the building was massive. Heading up the stairs as though I belonged, I started down the hallway, passing the door that had once led to my own chamber. But before we reached Steinunn’s chambers, the door at the far end of the hallway opened.
Reacting without thought, I pulled Geir toward me, my back against the wall. Geir put his hands on my waist, hood falling against mine, and if I hadn’t been half dead from fear of being discovered, I would have died of mortification at having to pretend like this with my own brother. That his face was rotting mere inches from mine did not help the situation.
Twin footfalls approached, and I heard Ylva say, “More jarls will arrive by tomorrow, my lord. All blame the Firehand and the Hel-child for the loss of so many warriors, and they desire the pleasure of seeing at least one of them punished in such appropriate fashion.”
My teeth clenched, fury rising in my chest at how swiftly Ylva switched sides to save her own skin.
Then Snorri’s voice said, “We will make their travels worth their time. You must keep a tighter rein on Leif. He’s tried to enter the prison, but I don’t want him near Bjorn.”
“He’s angry and hurt by his brother’s betrayal, but he wants answers. He’s not satisfied by the explanations he’s been given.” Ylva hesitated, then added, “I’ll keep them apart.”
“Do so.”
Their footsteps neared us, and paused, and Snorri’s voice snarled, “Find another place to fuck, you fools!”
“It’s raining, my lord,” Geir mumbled, and I cringed, certain the strange tenor of his voice would be noticed.
“Go stand in it for the rest of the night,” Snorri’s voice said. “Perhaps it will wash away the stink, since you clearly don’t wash your own arse.”
Then the footsteps carried on, heading down the hall and descending the steps, their conversation too low for me to hear.
“It was Snorri,” Geir whispered to me. “That was Snorri. ”
I shook my head. “It was Harald. But perhaps you now understand his mastery of deception.”
Catching hold of my brother’s arm, I dragged him down the hall to Steinunn’s room, praying to every god that she’d retained the same location upon her return. Opening the door, I eased into the dark room, walking on silent feet. Geir followed, closing the door behindus.
All I could see were shadows, but I crept across the room toward the bed. I waited for my eyes to adjust, searching the furs for a form, but they were empty. I reached down to touch the bed to confirm my eyes weren’t deceivingme.
Definitely empty. But also very warm.
Realizing my mistake, I whirled in time to see the door open, a slim shape outlined by the lamps in the hall. I lunged, but Steinunn was too quick for me to catch.
But not too quick for Geir.
Whether it was luck or some preternatural speed, he caught the skald around the waist even as he clapped a hand over her mouth. I hurried to shut the door, then lit a lamp. Steinunn thrashed and kicked in Geir’s arms, thumping her bare heels against his shins.
“I’m here to talk, and I want you to listen,” I told her. “And believe me, you should quit trying to bite my brother because you’re going to come away with a bigger mouthful than you hope for.”
Steinunn stared at me, then rolled her eyes up to look at Geir. Immediately she began thrashing about in a panic, no stranger to draug given she’d followed me and Bjorn through the tunnels beneath Fjalltindr. I waited for her to give up trying to escape, exhaustion forcing a degree of calmness back into her, then I said, “It’s true what you’ve been told. In the battle on the strait, I used Hel’s magic to pull the souls of most of Snorri’s army down to Helheim. What you don’t know is that it was Harald who manipulated me into doing so.”
Steinunn stared at me, eyes filled with angry skepticism.
There was no good way to explain everything, so I carried on. “Harald is a child of Loki. A trickster and a shape-shifter. Snorri is dead. I know this, because I watched Bjorn kill him.” As quickly as I could, I told her of what had happened on the island, the truth about Saga, and how Ylva had taken Bjorn. My throat was dry as I explained how I’d gone into Helheim and brought back the souls of the warriors I’d cursed, promising them another chance at Valhalla. When I was finished, I said, “I need your help revealing the reality of what has happened when everyone gathers tomorrow for Bjorn’s execution. Your song will reveal the truth. Now, if Geir removes his hand, do you promise not to scream?”
Steinunn gave a tight nod, remaining silent as my brother moved his hand, though she scrubbed at her mouth. I didn’t blame her for that.
“Harald is wearing Snorri’s face,” I continued. “It’s a clever way for Harald to rule both nations. He’s manipulating you and everyone else.”
“That’s impossible. They are both here. I’ve seen them with my own eyes, and Harald—” Steinunn broke off, likely unwilling to reveal to me that Harald still intended to kill Snorri, little knowing that Geir and I had overheard them.
“But have you ever seen them together?” Geir asked. “Has anyone seen them together?”
“Ylva—”
“Ylva knows the truth.” Sweat was pouring down my back because I’d been so sure that Steinunn would believe me. “I can only assume that Harald has secured her cooperation with threats against Leif’s life. Think, Steinunn. Have you once seen them together since the battle? Or if that is not compelling enough proof, ask yourself this: Did you ever see Harald and Saga together?”
Silence.
“You’re a skald, Steinunn! You know the lore. You know what Loki’s children can do!”
For a moment, I thought that I’d have to slap her to get a reaction, but then Steinunn whispered, “So Snorri is dead? Dead by Bjorn’s hand?”
“Yes.” My fingers balled into fists of frustration because this was not the reaction I’d hoped for. “Harald is a child of Loki and he has worn many faces not his own. Compose a song about what happened to me on that island and you’ll see the truth. That is the power of your magic.”
“The man who killed my family is dead,” she breathed. “Killed by his own son. The son he was trying to steal back when he attacked my village. Justice has been done.”
My stomach dropped and I abruptly realized that I had erred. None of Harald’s trickery mattered to Steinunn because he’d given her the thing she wanted more than life itself: revenge.
“He’s lying to you! We overheard your conversation—Harald lied to your face.”
“Freya, keep your voice down,” Geir hissed. “You’re going to get us caught.”
“But did he lie?” Steinunn stepped closer to me, breath hot against my face. “He said I would have my justice, I needed only to be patient. He planned to tell me the truth.”
“He doesn’t tell anyone the truth!” It took concerted effort not to shout, because why didn’t she understand? “But you can help us reveal what he is to everyone. You can help me fix this.”
“No,” Steinunn whispered, then she opened her mouth and screamed.
Geir clapped his hand over her mouth, but I knew that it was too late. Someone would have heard her scream and would come to investigate. Worse still, Steinunn had proven my brother was right.
No one cared about the truth. No one cared about the lies that had been told. Because it was in their best interests not to. “Let her go.”
Geir looked ready to argue but Steinunn wrenched away from him. “Snorri and Skaland took everything from me when they killed my family,” the skald snarled. “I swore vengeance, and now I have it.”
I shook my head and stepped back, my heart filled not with fear or anger, but sorrow at seeing how grief had eaten her up inside and turned her cruel. Turned her selfish. “Then all the Skalanders have the right to know the reason you hate them so much. Compose your song, Steinunn. Show them why Snorri deserved to die. Show them why you deserved vengeance.”
She blanched.
“That’s what I thought.” I shook my head. “Coward.”
“Freya, we must run!” Geir hauled on my arm, dragging me out the door. Shouts were sounding in the great hall, voices demanding that the scream be investigated.
“We need to get Bjorn!” I hissed after I shut Steinunn’s door. “She’ll tell Harald that I was here. He might kill him before tomorrow.”
“He won’t,” Geir snapped. “Bjorn is bait for you, Freya. He won’t kill him until he’s caught you.”
Logically, I knew that. But there was a lot of pain that could be inflicted before death, and leaving Bjorn to suffer while I escaped wasn’t a thought I was willing to entertain. Especially with all my plans to rescue him in shambles.
Geir gripped my shoulders. “We can’t help him if you’re dead. We didn’t bring enough warriors to get him out by force and it’s Skalanders we’ll have to fight. It was you who said you didn’t wish innocents to die because they had the misfortune of being deceived.”
I swayed on my feet, warring with myself. Knowing what Bjorn would want me to do, if given the choice. “We run. But I’m not letting him die, Geir. If I have to kill them all to save him, I’ll do it.”
Geir drew his sword. “We’ll come up with another plan.”
I drew my own blade, fighting tears, because I had been so certain this would work. So certain that I could outwit the trickster, but my plan had failed spectacularly. More screams of terror echoed up from below, boots pounding this way and that, Grindill waking up in the commotion.
We raced down the stairs only for a crying thrall to run by. “The dead are walking!” Her eyes landed on Geir, and she screamed, then bolted into the main hall.
It was a chaos of people running all different directions, warriors staggering out of beds, most still heavy with drink. Geir latched his hand onto my wrist, dragging me through the hall to the drains. He shoved me in the opening, and I landed with a splash in the water before swiftly staggering out of his way.
The rest of the draug followed, their laughs clawing the insides of my ears and made all the worse because I took no humor from the chaos. Our one opportunity to sneak inside Grindill had been spent and it had been for nothing.
And Bjorn would be the one to pay the price.