Chapter Thirteen
Freya
Although I knew Soren expected me to continue fighting him about leaving after we made love beneath the tree out back, I did no such thing.
Instead, I brought him to bed and lost myself in his arms for the entire night.
We never ate or drank, but made love time and time again until dawn broke, and we made our way down to the sea to watch our last sunrise together.
Somehow, I wasn’t surprised it was all the same shades of crimson, yellows, blues, and greens I had seen in the flames the night my sister spoke to me. I said as much, too, before making my way back to our lodge to prepare for his departure while he oversaw final preparations.
Wiping away the last of my tears for now, I braided my hair as I had the day that he’d arrived at my father’s holding and painted my face for war because saying goodbye to him felt like going to battle.
Then, I adorned the trousers and tunic I had worn the first day I fought him here at our stronghold, wrapped my bear fur over my shoulders, and sheathed his mother’s sword at my side.
Holding her shield at the ready like my shield-maiden ancestors and with Sten by my side, I made my way down to the shore with my head held high, pleased when many fell in behind me, understanding the honor I meant to show my husband.
The days of our Viking ancestors might have passed, but we still carried them in our blood, and I would see Soren sent off knowing such.
As expected, most at the shore who were preparing to leave stopped what they were doing at my approach, including Soren, and our gazes connected across the distance.
As it was every time we looked at each other, I felt the palpable energy of our bond, struggling to imagine it not being a part of my life anymore if something happened to him.
Truthfully, I wondered how I ever got by without it to begin with.
“Thank you for this, Freya,” he said when he joined me, admiring my appearance. “I’m honored. Might I carry a piece of your warrior spirit with me.” Soren looked past me to the villagers who had followed. “Many thanks to all of you for seeing me off.”
After saying their farewells to him, he bid goodbye to Ivar and Brynhild, embracing his aunt before slipping his hand into mine so that we might walk to his boat together.
Doing my best to keep my emotions reined in, I assessed the numerous ships traveling with him as well as his warriors, and all looked in good form.
“I will miss you more than words can say, wife,” he said softly once we arrived at his ship, cupping my cheeks. “Both of you so very much.”
“And we will miss you.” I rested one hand over our child and one over his heart. “May both of us give you strength and protection wherever you may be, and might our hearts beat as one.”
I wasn’t surprised to feel my pendant and talisman warm at my chest, telling me great magic was at work in my words. Magic born of the gods that would bind us three, given that his offspring was as mystical as his mother and me.
“I felt that,” he exclaimed softly, his pupils flaring with awe. “I felt the warmth beneath your hand pulse and fill me.” He closed his eyes for a moment, as if cherishing the sensation, then looked at me again. “’Tis like nothing I have ever experienced.”
“’Tis my and our child’s love for you, husband,” I said just as softly. “Love so great that ’twill stay with you. Protect you in ways born of the gods and could very well bond us through the flames, as I’m bonded to my sisters.”
“I can only pray,” he said solemnly, then closed his mouth over mine and kissed me one last time. A deep, soulful kiss that ended far too soon as ships were already sailing and his vessel was next to go.
He looked at Sten, who had remained by my side. “Take care of her and our child, my friend, and I will see you all again soon enough.”
His thick black pelt rippling in the wind, our wolf looked from me back to Soren, his gaze steady and watchful in a way that spoke to him understanding his master’s request. More so, as he remained faithfully by my side when Soren boarded.
Biting back a fresh round of sadness he didn’t need to see right now, I held my head high and my shield proudly, walking down the pier as the ship was untied and the sails raised.
Soren and I never stopped looking at each other as the wind caught and his boat lurched forward.
Instead, I went to the end of the pier and held his gaze until I could barely see his form in the distance, even as all around me went back to their morning duties and routines.
I watched him until all I could make out was his ship’s sails glowing in the morning sun, until even that disappeared into the horizon.
Only then did a tear slip free, and I realized Ivar and Brynhild still stood beside me, watching our ships in the distance until the last one disappeared.
“He will be all right, Freya,” Brynhild said gently, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. “As you well know, he’s a fierce warrior, and now he has more to fight for than ever.”
“Ja,” Ivar agreed roughly, making himself clear when he looked at me with his typical scowl. “And I will see that what he fights for is well-protected.” He gestured dismissively at my attire and jerked his head once. “’Twas good to dress as you did today.”
Before I could respond, he spun on his heel and strode for the shore.
I shook my head and looked skyward. “What will it ever take to lessen his frustration at me?”
“Actually,” Brynhild mused, watching Soren’s obstinate second-in-command as he walked away. “I think that might have been him finally starting to warm to you.” Her dark blue eye twinkled when she looked at me. “’Twould have been unthinkable for him to compliment you in any fashion mere months ago.”
“True,” I conceded. “Yet still, ’tis hard to imagine us overseeing this place together.” Counting on her, I cocked my head in question. “With your help, I hope?”
“Ja, if you like.” Wiping away my tears, pride lit her affectionate gaze. “As Soren became more like a son after my sister’s death, you are very much like a daughter to me now, Freya, and I will stand by you always, helping however I can.”
“Thank you, Brynhild.” Pressing my lips together, I fought another wave of emotion. I had very much needed to hear that, given Soren’s absence and my own mother’s death. “That means a great deal.”
Not just that, but knowing she would stand by me if something happened to Soren in Scotland was comforting.
“I thought mayhap we might take your boat out sometime over the next few days?” Brynhild suggested as we headed for shore.
“I know you must spend time with our people whilst they adjust to their earl leaving on such a quest, but I think ’twould be good for you once things settle, as I know you favor being on the sea. ”
“’Twould be most welcome.” I managed a wobbly smile for her. Little gave me as much peace and clarity of mind as sailing. “Most welcome, indeed.”
“I will see you again soon, my friend and new daughter,” Brynhild said once we reached the shore.
She squeezed my hand and looked at me with wisdom.
“Mayhap to share a cup of ale this first eve alone before you dine with your people?” Her voice grew softer still.
Discreet. “Mayhap this first eve without Soren when you pray as you once did?”
“I would like that,” I whispered because I couldn’t quite find my voice. It seemed Brynhild knew me better than I realized. Knew things even Soren did not.
So, after spending most of the day dressed as I was, a shield-maiden for all to see so they knew I would stand strong for them always, I knocked on the door of a small cottage toward the back of the stronghold, finally ready to embrace another part of me.
My long-abandoned inner seer.
Soren hadn’t spoken of it much after I told him I would never divine again after steering my mother wrong, but when he did, it was important to him that I be everything the gods wished of me.
Everything my mother would have wanted me to be.
He didn’t feel that she, nor the gods, blamed me for her death any more than they blamed me for my father’s bear mauling and disfigurement.
So, for him and our people, I had met with the seamstress when I knew he would be leaving, determined to honor his wishes and be strong for everyone who depended on me in his absence.
And strong meant being both a shield-maiden and a seer.
Strong meant believing in myself and what the gods had gifted me with, praying they would be there for me as I took this first step.
When the village seamstress, a kindly, full-figured young woman with round, rosy cheeks, and a thick crop of dark curls opened the door, I nodded hello and tried to hand her a coin, but she refused it.
Saying nothing because she knew I wished this exchange to be discreet until tonight, she gave me a package wrapped in fur.
After handing it over, she offered a small smile, and I smiled in return.
“Please?” I said softly, asking her to place her hand in mine. “Don’t be afraid. I only wish to give you something in return for your kindness and discretion in doing this for me.”
Although tentative at first, when I gestured that she could trust me, she slipped her hand into mine and waited as I closed my eyes.
Waited as I did something I hadn’t done in a long time.
Inhaling deeply, I prayed to the gods to flow through me again.
Empower me. When my talisman warmed, and I heard the telling whisper of my deities in my ear, I could not help but smile, knowing now that they had never left me.
Moments later, warmth spread through me, and my ancestral seer abilities surfaced, filling me once more.
I embraced and welcomed them like an old friend I had shunned because I had.
Not anymore, though.
Now I welcomed clarity past the barriers of mortality into something deeply profound and mystically vivid.