Chapter Fifteen
Freya
“Do not leave us,” I wailed, jolting awake.
In a cold sweat of panic, I sat up and tried to get my bearings. Though I had felt like I’d been in a chilly, dark forest moments before, I was still in bed in mine and Soren’s lodge. Wind howled, and waves crashed in the distance just as they had moments ago in my dream.
Yet it had felt so real.
Powerful.
Heart-wrenching.
Putting a hand to my womb, I knew our babe was safe. It had been something else.
Soren.
I was sure of it.
Compelled, I slipped into my night rail, wrapped my bear fur around me, drifted out to our tree, and stared up at the moonlight pouring down through its branches.
Since I had embraced my gift two months ago, my powers of divination had only grown stronger. Clearer. Especially when I dreamt, giving me insight into things to come, or sometimes as they were happening in another location.
“Soren,” I whispered, murmuring prayers to the gods. “Where are you, my love?” I dropped to my knees in supplication to my deities but never stopped looking up. “Talk to me. Be with me.”
Over the past few nights, my pendant and talisman had remained warm against my skin, telling me we were connecting, despite the distance.
However, there was a chill between us born of the unease Soren felt wherever he was.
A mental wall that made it hard to bond with him, yet last night I had awoken in a panic, much like how I woke tonight.
Last night, I had dreamt of my gray wolf and a raging storm at sea. Of ships rolling and men crying out. Of Soren crying out. Fearing for him, for all of them, I had beckoned him, them, to come to me. Come to the wolf, and find the safety of the shore.
Now tonight, the feeling was so much more intense.
Vivid. Fast, furious, and relentless, as though the storm of nature became a storm of warriors.
Staring down at my hands, I saw an axe in one hand and a dagger in the other.
Felt warm blood speckled on my face and neck as I poured myself into Soren’s heart in a way that felt truly otherworldly.
Looking to my left, I saw the spirit of a polar bear. To my right, the spirit of a wolf. Then, I felt only my ancestral berserker and a vicious need to protect my countrymen and king. To give them a chance to flee.
“Fight,” I roared as the wind whipped up and the tree branches above bent and swirled. “Fight, husband!”
Although terror filled me as Soren fought valiantly and neared Valhalla’s great halls, soon to dine with the All Father himself, I stood with him, empowered him, loved him, every step of the way.
“No,” I wailed when piercing pain sliced through my gut, and I fell back.
I tried to keep wailing, but all went silent, except for the sound of men fighting in the distance, then even that faded, leaving only the wind in the trees and moonlight dancing down through its branches.
“Soren,” I whispered, my voice hoarse with emotion as I saw him reaching down to me. Or was he reaching up? It was impossible to tell.
“Do not go,” I cried, roared, wailed. “Do not leave me!”
Yet as I reached for him, he faded, and I saw the white furred, blue-eyed face of one of Astrid’s huskies peering back before I saw my sister’s face and heard her single, mournful, urgent plea.
“Come now, sister! Come before ’tis too late!”
Then her cry became Ivar’s roar, and everything snapped away except the angry face of Soren’s second-in-command, his dark eyes blazing at me as if he had come for my soul.
Confused, I blinked and tried to get my bearings, only to find myself not kneeling but standing beneath my tree with Ivar’s hands on my shoulders as if he had been trying to rouse me awake.
Sten released a long, mournful howl from beyond my front door as if he, too, had been trying to get through to me.
While I wish I could say things had improved between Ivar and me since Soren’s departure, he only seemed to grow more frustrated and despondent with me the longer Soren was gone, as if I were somehow to blame for it.
So imagine my surprise when his angry scowl turned to a look of relief, and he murmured a prayer of thanks to the gods before speaking more civilly than I expected. “Are you with me now, Freya?” He glanced from Brynhild, who had at some point arrived, too, back to me. “With us?”
“I am,” I whispered hoarsely, my throat bone dry as if I’d been screaming endlessly, and it turned out I had been. Enough to rouse many, including Ivar and Brynhild.
“Here,” Brynhild said gently, lifting a cup of water to my mouth when she saw how badly my hands shook. “Drink, daughter.”
So I did, grateful for the cool water sliding down my parched throat before swallowing hard and continuing to gain my bearings.
“What is it?” Brynhild asked, trusting in my powers of divination as much as everyone else after the past few months. “What did you see? You were calling out for Soren, and it didn’t sound good.”
“I have to go to him,” I managed, relieved to find my voice working again, if not wobbly with emotion. Looking from Brynhild to Ivar, I made myself clear. “My sister told me to, and so I will because Soren is…”
“What?” Brynhild prompted when I trailed off.
I shook my head, unsure yet certain of my path. “Dead…but not dead.
“Which is it?” Ivar bit out, as disgruntled as I and Brynhild. “Where is he?”
“Where I’m going,” I made clear again, pulling away and striding inside with them fast on my heels. “And don’t try to stop me.”
“Yet we will,” Ivar growled. “Because you carry Soren’s child.”
“And my child,” I growled right back, snagging a dagger from the wall and spinning on him.
Though he towered over me, I stood on my tiptoes, went nose to nose with the brute, brought my dagger to his throat, and glared at him.
“We are going to save her father, and my husband just as he would for us, and I dare you to try to stop us, Ivar. I dare you to stop two Helvig Dahl shield-maidens because we will drop you to your knees here and now.”
Well aware I held my well-sharpened blade against a vein that would kill him if I sliced, Ivar didn’t tremble in fear. Instead, he narrowed his eyes in return, before surprising me again when the corners of his mouth rose a mere fraction and his voice softened. “’Tis a daughter? Truly?”
I couldn’t help a small smile in return, because though my belly had barely swelled, I often saw her in my dreams. “Ja, she is a beautiful, strong, willful daughter who will kill you herself the moment she can wield a blade if you don’t allow us to go to her father’s aid this very night.”
“No doubt she will if she’s anything like her mother,” Brynhild said, her voice shaky with emotion at the news because I hadn’t even told her yet.
She rested her hand on Ivar’s shoulder. “So mayhap we should hear Freya out, my friend, for if anyone has proven she possesses the power of the gods over the past few months, ’tis her and it has only been for the betterment of our people. ”
“It has, and you know it.” I pressed my blade tighter against his neck. “So you decide, Ivar. Will you hear me out and allow me to leave, or will my daughter and I end you here and now?”
Thinking about it, Ivar’s nostrils flared, and his gaze remained narrowed on me before he relented through clenched teeth, “All right, Freya.” His voice softened once more. “If ’tis you and your daughter’s wish, I will hear you out.”
“Then let us leave,” I reiterated. “Because that is the only option and soon.”
“Leave when you were honored by your husband to watch over his people,” Ivar reminded, choosing to use words and guilt rather than weapons. Not altogether unwise, given his current position.
“Yet would it not be watching over Soren’s people if Freya saved him and brought him home alive to watch over them always?
” Brynhild said, keeping her voice gentle.
“You and Freya have trained excellent warriors to be ever better since Soren left, so ’tis safe to say they can protect themselves and our people in both of your absences with me watching over them. ”
“Yet I, too, was tasked to watch over our people,” Ivar countered.
“As was I,” Brynhild pointed out. reminded.
“Yet you were also tasked to watch over Soren’s wife and unborn child, and you’re much better with an oar than I these days.
” She gave Ivar a look. “You are the better, more formidable choice betwixt us to see Freya safely to Soren’s side, and you know it. ”
“This is no easy journey,” Ivar warned me. “Are you sure you want to put your daughter at risk like that?”
“She will not be at risk if she’s safely inside me,” I made clear. “And not only is my ship new and built well, but I excel on the sea. We need but six strong oarsmen with us, and we will travel swiftly, reaching western Scotland within the week.”
“’Tis swift indeed,” he returned dubiously. “And only if you’re lucky enough to have the wind at your back the entire time.”
“I will be,” I lied because I had no way of knowing that. “I would not have heard my sister’s call otherwise.”
“And what do you intend to do once we arrive?” Ivar wondered. “Do you know where your sister is? Will we be safe going ashore? Somehow I doubt it.”
“Ja, I know where she is,” I assured. “’Tis not all that far north of Largs.” Growing tired of this conversation and the time it wasted, I arched an eyebrow and cocked my head. “Come or do not come, but I need to know you will let me go save Soren.”
Ivar considered me for a stretch, debating before he sighed and agreed. “Fine, I will allow you to leave these shores and will get you there safely.”
I narrowed my eyes in question, wanting to trust him. “Ja?”
“Ja.”
Now it was my turn to consider him before deciding he told the truth and lowered my blade. Moving right along, I began packing a few things in a satchel and suggested that Ivar go pick the men he felt best suited to our journey.