Chapter 44 Freya
Geir and the other Skalander draug hauled me out of the river and half carried me at a run through the trees, the shouts of pursuit filling our ears.
“Skade led those who came after us,” Geir told me after we’d reached our camp, which was nothing more than a few tents and a single fire, for the draug needed neither rest nor warmth. “But she broke off chase. Likely because she does not care to face us in the dark.”
“Do not allow your confidence to get the better of you.” I crouched next to a small fire, warming my shaking hands. I was frozen to the bone, the sensation made worse by the hollowness in my chest. “I cannot believe Steinunn did not listen. That the truth did not matter.”
“You assume that everyone is like you, sister.” Geir muttered orders to the other Skalanders to keep a strong watch in case Skade had continued her hunt alone. “You assume that everyone will fight for what is right and make sacrifices for others, but that is not the nature of most people. They are selfish, and they always choose the path that is best for them and call it wisdom. But it is cowardice. Let them call you the fool for trying to do better—the gods see the truth of their nature and they will be judged accordingly. Odin has no place for cowards in Valhalla.”
It was cold comfort. I’d spent my one chance to extract Bjorn on a failed conversation with Steinunn, and in the coming day, he’d be executed unless I found a solution. Exhaustion dragged upon me, but there was no chance that I’d waste these last few hours when I might yet win Bjorn free to do anything as useless as sleep.
A sharp whistle split the night, and as I lifted my head, it was to see that the first hint of dawn glowed through the dense trees of the forest. Yet that was not the reason for the whistle. Two of my draug were coming toward us with a man between them.
“Guthrum!”
I clambered to my feet, and one of the draug said, “He approached and asked to speak to you.”
I waved a hand at them to let Guthrum go, then motioned for him to join me at the fire.
Guthrum was silent, holding his hands above the flame. He was skinny as a rail, and his ill-fitting clothes looked to have been stolen from a clothesline. Yet he was also alive, and though I was not certain what side he was on, there was comfort in standing next to the living.
“I’m sorry I ran,” he finally said. “It felt like I was caught in a trap, and so I thought only of escape.”
“In fairness, you did wake up surrounded by corpses.” I tried to laugh but it sounded more like a sob. Sitting before my knees could betray me, I motioned for him to sit next to me. “Where have you been?”
“In the wilds.” He rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the fire. “Kaja showed me some of what happened during the battle on the strait, though once I fell from the boat all she looked for was me. Shetold me that it was you who pulled me from the water and chastised me for not listening to you, but I have not lived this long by ignoring my instinct to run.” He shrugged. “We’ve been watching you and yours. Watching those at Grindill. The alliance between Snorri and Harald. Nothing made sense to me, and so I sent Kaja to speak to Bjorn.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “She saw him? Is he well?”
“ Well is a stretch but he’s alive and in the cells beneath the fortress with Tora as his guard. He told Kaja all that had happened and she relayed it to me, along with his request that I aid you. It was…quite a story.” He stuck a hand in his pocket and withdrew a handful of berries, which he ate in silence. “I struggled to believe it. Still struggle to believe it, for I have been in Harald’s company most of my life and never once had cause to question he might be a trickster. Kaja has since watched for proof of such a nature but has seen nothing.”
I kept silent, for if Bjorn’s story and days of watching had not given him the proof Guthrum needed, then nothing I said would.
“But what she has seen, time and again, is Harald and Snorri referring to you as a monster.” He ate the last of his berries. “You and I once talked about what it means to have a monster in you, Freya, and I said that we all do. But I think I was wrong, because no part of you is the villain. I was on that drakkar. I know the lengths to which you went not to use Hel’s magic, and I know that it was Bjorn who forced your hand, just as I know that it was Saga who drove him to it. Saga, who has mysteriously vanished from the world with nothing but a vague explanation that Bjorn or you killed her in the battle.”
I kept silent, waiting to see where this wouldgo.
“Harald saved my life. I owe him a life debt and I will not turn against him,” Guthrum said. “But neither will I fight for him in this, because my respect for him is tarnished. I know your goal is to rescue Bjorn, but the cost of doing so will be high.” He hesitated. “Kaja has overheard that Snorri intends to send you a message offering you the chance to surrender. If you do, he will give you a swift and merciful death, and Bjorn will be sent into exile. If you decline, it will be the blood eagle at dusk for him.”
My despair swelled at the reminder of the fate that Bjorn would face if I failed to rescue him. The most torturous of deaths where the victim’s ribs were separated from their spine, skin and bone pulled outward to form macabre wings before the victim’s lungs were removed from their chest. A horrible and slow way to die, and one that surely denied the victim Valhalla.
Guthrum rose to his feet, so I did as well. “I will leave you to debate your course of action. Goodbye, Freya Born-in-Fire,” he said, then melted into the darkness.
Geir moved into the firelight. “Do not agree to this offer, sister. Not only would you grant victory to the enemy, there is no certainty that Harald will hold to his agreement. Already crowds gather to see the brutal end to one of the named traitors, so imagine how many would come to see the blood eagle of two.”
“I know.” I resumed my spot in front of the fire, rubbing at my scarred hand as I tried to swim above the fear that threatened to drown me. “Grindill’s walls are manned mostly with Skalanders. If we attempt to take the fortress by force, many of our people will die. Bjorn might be killed in the chaos of the battle, and if it looks as though it is going badly for him, Harald will merely change form and escape with the masses. It will all be for nothing.”
“What about your magic?”
“It won’t work on the Unfated,” I muttered. “And it especially won’t work on one of Loki’s children. Hel feels some degree of solidarity with her father, I think.”
Geir toyed with the hilt of his sword. “I know you love Bjorn, but maybe it’s time—”
“No.” My scarred hand balled into a fist. “I’ll not sacrifice him. I’ll die to save him.”
“Your death will not save him,” my brother muttered. “Even if Harald allows him to go free, he’ll only get himself killed trying to avenge your death. You know this.”
I did know it, but I said nothing.
“We can try to climb the walls while it is still dark,” one of the other draug suggested. “They may not know the capabilities of the undead. It may be that we can break Bjorn free before they even realize we are inside.”
“Steinunn knows the capacity of the undead.” My voice caught. “And she is no friend of ours. What’s more, if Skade gets any of you in her sights, her arrow can easily end you. Likewise Tora’s lightning, and it is she who stands guard over Bjorn.” Although there was no doubt in my mind that Tora did so under duress.
“We are dead, Freya Born-in-Fire,” he answered. “Life in this realm will never again be possible, but what comes next is unknown. I, for one, would gladly take that step for the sake of avoiding battle with our friends and family who stand against us on Grindill’s walls.”
It didn’t feel right to ask the draug to take such a risk when I’d already taken so much from them, but I knew he was right. This was why they’d come back. Not to hide in the woods, but to do battle against Harald and win a place in Valhalla. To deny them that was worse than killing them in the first place. “All right. But we must be quick. In another hour, there will be full light.”
—
Geir sent his best warriors to attempt to infiltrate the fortress, but it was for naught. After our failed attempt to sway Steinunn, Grindill had been rendered virtually impenetrable. No one was allowed in or out, the gates were kept shut, and the patrols on the walls were doubled. Even so, the draug might have succeeded.
If not for Skade.
She was called the huntress for a reason, and the magic in her blood proved its worth, for she shot all four draug who made the attempt. They burst into ash just as had those beneath Fjalltindr when they’d encountered Bjorn’s axe, and I sent a prayer to the Allfather that he honor their bravery.
As the sun moved high in the sky, a single rider approached the new camp we’d made on the ridgeline overlooking the fortress, it now seeming pointless to attempt to hide our presence.
“King Snorri offers terms,” the messenger shouted. “If the Hel-child known as Freya Born-in-Fire approaches the gates alone and surrenders herself, she will be given a swift and honorable death and her lover will be granted exile. The Hel-child has until dusk to surrender, else her lover will die a traitor’s death. A blood eagle in front of all he betrayed.” Without waiting for a response, she rode back to the gates of Grindill.
“I had hoped it would be Skade who brought the message,” Geir growled. “That one deserves death for what she did to Mother.”
“Skade is too clever for that.” I paced back and forth, wearing a track in the dirt. “She knows we’re here and won’t race into a trap. Not when she is equally certain that I will walk into theirs.”
“Time runs short.” Geir watched me pace, rotting thumbs hooked on his belt. “What do you wish to do, Freya?”
Noise from inside the fortress reached my ears. Shouts of celebration and calls for blood, hundreds of Skalanders lifting their cups to Snorri. To his renewed friendship with Harald. Toasted to peace between Nordeland and Skaland. Toasted to the imminent execution of a traitor.
It turned my stomach sour. “How quickly Harald has become the hero. How quickly our people forget the long years he raided Skaland’s coast, plundering and killing.”
“He’s painted himself as a victim,” Geir replied. “A victim of the monstrous Hel-child and her hapless lover. It was not visions of Harald or Nordelander warriors that Steinunn’s song showed dragging their loved ones beneath the waves, Freya. It was you, with Bjorn at your side.”
“Nothing is more powerful than the truth.” I wished desperately to see a path through this. A path to defeating Harald that wouldn’t make truth out of his fabricated vision of me as a plague upon both nations with scores of innocent dead left in my wake. “But the truth refuses to be our weapon. There is no choice. We must go over the walls and take control of the fortress to rescue Bjorn and kill Harald.”
The draug shook their heads restlessly, and Geir watched them, some form of silent communication passing between my brother and the dead Skalanders. “No, Freya,” he finally said. “It would be one thing if doing so yielded victory, but we know that Harald will only shift forms and escape. We might save Bjorn, but it would come at the cost of the lives of those we call friends and family, for they all believe that we are the enemy. That we are ruled by a traitor. They will fight us, and none here wish to harm our people.”
Whether it was my oath or just my frustration, I didn’t know, only that emotion rose in my chest, wild and furious.
“You promised me!” The words tore from my lips as a wild shriek. “You swore to fight for me!”
“To fight for Skaland!” my brother shouted back. “To fight to defeat the trickster whose plots put us all in Helheim. To fight for a chance at Valhalla. But what you suggest has no honor—to kill those we love for the sake of the one you love.”
A ragged sob tore from my lips, because he was right. I couldn’t ask them for this. All I could do now was choose between fighting this battle myself or surrendering on the hope Harald would hold to his word and allow Bjorn to go free. Hooking my shield over my shoulder, I started walking toward Grindill.
“Freya,” Geir called before I’d gone more than a few paces. “Wait! The wolves have returned!”
Turning my head, I found Skoll and Hati sitting in the trees, watching me. Their presence changed nothing, yet I stopped walking and waited as they made their way in my direction. It was not lost on me that both creatures were larger than I was. More than capable of ripping out my throat. Yet I felt no threat as they neared, not even when they sniffed my hands, massive teeth clearly visible.
Sniffed with their large noses. Their keen noses.
I went still, watching the wolves lick my hands. “Harald changes shape,” I murmured. “But does he change smell?”
Geir and the others exchanged looks but then shrugged.
It was a long shot, but desperation drove me to take it. “Get me a stick of charcoal.” When one was brought to me, I dropped to my knees before the wolves, a cold fall wind tugging and pulling at my hair. “Will you trust me to wash away the magic when we are through? I have no desire to bind you to my will, only to offer you the chance for revenge against the one who kept you bound for so long. And for that, I need you to be able to understand me.”
They only sat with lolling tongues, showing no resistance as I replicated the runes that Harald had once used to bind them. Immediately, their eyes sharpened with intelligence. “Can you smell Harald no matter his shape?” I asked them.
Hati gave a soft whine.
Geir frowned. “Is that a yes?”
I nodded, understanding them as easily as they understood me. “Will you help us?”
Both animals circled me with wagging tails, and resting my hands on their heads, I looked at Grindill with a different light.
“We flush everyone in the fortress out with smoke,” I said. “Force them through two gates as choke points. Harald doesn’t know we have Skoll and Hati, so he’ll not hesitate to try to slip through. But they will know it is him no matter what face he wears.”
“He’ll know it’s a ploy,” Geir argued.
“Every part of Harald’s strategy here has been predicated on his belief that he knows how I will act. On his certainty that I will not voluntarily attack my own people. On his certainty that I’ll risk myself for Bjorn’s sake. That I’ll die for him.” I swallowed hard, wishing I could tell Geir about my oath, although in truth, even without it, I’d have made the same choices. “Harald was right in his assessment of my character. But I also know him. He has consistently fooled everyone by taking on another’s form and it will not occur to him that his magic will fail him. When it seems as though he has erred in his judgment of me, that we are attacking the fortress in truth, he will change form and try to run. It is his nature.”
“And once he’s caught? Then what?”
Every part of me wanted to force Harald to reveal the truth of his nature. For all to know who and what he was. But that might well be a dream out of reach for me, so I said, “I’ll kill him.”
Geir rubbed at his beard. “We need to think of a way to fill the fortress with smoke without setting it ablaze so quickly that no one has time to flee.”
“We need to get the smoke to the center of Grindill,” I said. “The gates we wish them to escape through must be kept clear of flame. And we have only a matter of hours to figure out how to do it.”
The draug set to work while I stood with Skoll and Hati, listening to my people in Grindill call for my blood. For Bjorn’s blood. They patrolled the battlements, Skade in their midst, all forewarned that I was coming. All forewarned that I’d raised an army of the dead that was bound to do my bidding.
They would wait no longer.
“It’s time.” I called magic to my shield and drew my sword, the runes glowing in the presence of the draug surrounding me. “To Harald, this is all a game and we are but pieces on the board. Today the pieces rise against him, and he will taste what it is like to lose!”
My army of the undead flanked me and, as one, we stepped out of the trees and into the open.