Chapter Seventeen
Freya
Despite a small storm near the Orkney Isles that slowed us, the winds remained in our favor, and we drew closer to a woodland area I’d seen in my dreams a little over a week after we left home.
“We will lay anchor here and then you will bring me ashore tonight,” I told those traveling with us, looking at them in warning. “Despite my sister’s presence here, ’tis best to consider this enemy territory, so tread carefully.”
It was far too risky trying to hide my boat and those traveling with me ashore while seeking out Soren, so this was our only option. I had wanted them to drop me off alone, but Ivar refused to let me go by myself, reminding me that he was there to protect me and my child.
“How does Soren fare?” Ivar asked me softly, joining me at the front of the boat. “Have you sensed him or heard from your sister?”
Thankfully, Ivar and I had come a long way on this journey, and he was no longer wary or distrustful of me. Rather, we’d spent ample time talking and got along better than we thought we might.
“I sensed Soren, but our moments together in dreams were fleeting, as if he were only partially with me.” I swallowed my emotions because now was not the time for them.
Now was the time to stay strong, think clearly, and get to his side as swiftly as I could.
Either help nurse him back to health with Astrid or have one last chance to say goodbye.
“Little from Astrid other than her urgency that I get there.” Inhaling deeply, I tried to keep fear from my voice. “That time is limited.”
Ivar said nothing to that, but I didn’t miss the concern in his eyes when his gaze swept over the distant shoreline. “If anyone can survive the sort of wound you fear he suffers, ’tis Soren.”
“And he will,” I vowed. Prayed.
Fortunately, although blustery and cold, the waves were not overly big, and the storm brewing in the distance had yet to reach us by the time we made our way to shore.
The chilled air smelled of wood smoke from distant fires, and the trill of bagpipes echoed on the wind, but they were far enough away that we need not worry.
After our men dropped us off, followed by Sten when he jumped out after us, Ivar and I kept to the shadows until we were under the cover of trees.
“Now we wait,” I whispered when my pendant warmed. Recognizing them from a vision, my gaze drifted to two trees leaning against each other. “Astrid will come from that direction.”
Ivar remained silent with his blade at the ready lest someone other than my sister happen upon us.
Sten stood at attention, his gaze trained on the woodland and his ears perked forward.
Thunder rumbled closer, and the wind picked up as we kept watch and prayed Astrid appeared soon, and that we were not too late.
When my pendant grew warmer still and an overwhelming sense of urgency surged through me, I tried not to panic.
Tried not to fear the worst, but it was difficult.
All I knew was that I needed to get to Soren soon.
Right away. So, when movement ahead caught my attention, I started walking despite Ivar grumbling that I shouldn’t.
“’Tis her.” I was certain of it. “’Tis Astrid.”
Moments later, a slight figure with a dark, hooded cloak appeared through the trees, and our gazes locked on each other. Never so relieved, I rushed to my sister and we embraced, holding on tightly.
“’Tis so good to see you, Freya,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you and Tove so very much.”
“And I you.” Fearing the worst, I met her eyes. “Please tell me Soren still lives.”
“He does, but barely,” Astrid said, her tone urgent. “You must come straight away.” She shook her head and gestured at Ivar and the wolf. “But they cannot. ’Tis far too risky.”
“Freya goes nowhere without me,” Ivar growled, shaking his head as well. “’Twas the stipulation of allowing her to come to begin with.”
“Whilst Freya will be safe enough, I cannot guarantee the same for you,” Astrid returned.
“Clan Mackay puts themselves in a difficult enough position already with the Scottish king placing a bounty on Soren’s head.
Whilst they owe a debt to Soren, they won’t feel the same about you.
And one look at the wolf will mean his certain death. ”
Ivar frowned. “How does the king know Soren is still here?”
When Astrid looked at me in warning and shook her head that we did not have time for this, I knew Soren was doing poorly indeed.
“There’s no time for questions right now.
” I shot Ivar a look he had gotten to know well on our journey.
It meant I knew things he did not. Felt things he could not.
“If we don’t do as Astrid says, I won’t be taken to Soren, and I must go to him before ’tis too late.
” I rested my hand on his shoulder. “Please, my friend. We are nearly out of time, and his wife and daughter should be with him. Save him if ’tis a matter of us being there that keeps him with us. ”
“You cannot ask this of me, Freya,” Ivar said through clenched teeth.
“Yet I must,” I replied. “You need to stay here and await our return, whether Soren makes it or not. We need to bring him home, and I can’t do that if the Scots get their hands on you. Worse yet, if it draws attention to our boat and men.”
Ivar considered me for a moment, clearly conflicted and weighing his options.
What the best move here was before, thank the gods, he finally said what I needed to hear.
“Be safe and bring him back, Freya.” He nodded once, solidifying the divide we had finally crossed together. “Bring him home, my friend.”
I nodded once in return and looked at Sten. “Take care of each other. We’ll see you again soon.”
While there was no way to stop Sten if he were determined to follow, it seemed he understood how important it was to remain with Ivar because he remained by his side when I followed Astrid into the woodland.
Yet when I glanced back and caught a glimpse of my gray wolf peering at me from the darkness, I suspected Sten followed its bidding, too.
Astrid put a finger to her lips, urging me to remain quiet, and started down a small, hidden path cutting through bushes and ever-thickening woodland, slowing when the sight of a castle emerged in the darkness.
After scanning the small distance between us and what appeared to be a back entrance, she gestured that I follow her.
Although we were in the rear of the sizeable structure, what I could see of it looked impressive, with several levels.
After entering a dark hallway, Astrid lit a torch she’d pulled from a wall bracket, and we headed up narrow, steep stone stairs, climbing several floors before ascending more spiraling steps into what seemed to be a tower.
At the top, Freya opened a door and led me inside a sizeable room with a warm, inviting fire. Yet all I felt was chilled to the bone when I laid eyes on Soren. With drawn, pale skin, he struggled to breathe, the sound shallow and labored.
My heart in my throat, I dropped my satchel, raced to his side, and took his hand.
“I’m here, husband.” Wrapping my fingers with his, I leaned close and whispered in his ear. I could feel the heat of his fever wafting against my skin as if from a fire and smell the sickness in him. “Just as I promised you I would be in our dreams.”
Nothing.
No response. No squeeze of his hand.
No stirring of any kind.
If anything, he grew stiller. Then, terrifyingly enough, as if he knew I was here, and he could finally let go, he released a long, rattling breath.
“No,” I whimpered, shaking my head, refusing to believe it. Hear it. Feel it. “’Tis not time, yet.” I kept shaking my head, and did all I could think of when my pendant and talisman warmed against my skin. “I will not allow it any more than you did.”
Removing it from my neck, I pressed it into his palm just as he had into mine years ago on my deathbed. Wrapping his hand around it, I rested my cool cheek against his hot, fevered chest and prayed for him to stay with us. Demanded it. Refused to let him go.
“I return the strength of the wolf you gave me so long ago, my love,” I whispered, tears leaking from my eyes when I no longer heard his heartbeat.
Yet I kept talking.
Pleading.
Reminding him why it was not the time to drink with Odin in Valhalla.
“And I give you the might of the bear so that it can lead you back to my shores,” I said hoarsely. “Back to your daughter so that she might know her father. Be protected by him until she someday grows into a fierce shield-maiden like her mother and grandmothers before her.”
I was about to go on when thunder rumbled in the distance, lightning flashed outside, and I swore I heard a thud beneath my ear, so I kept talking and squeezed his hand around the pendant and talisman.
“Come back to us, Soren,” I urged, dropping a soft kiss on his dry lips. “Come back to your daughter. She needs you. We need you.”
As if in response to my desperate plea, I swore I heard another thud.
Then another.
And yet another before Soren inhaled sharply, and his hand tightened around the pendant, as though it anchored him. As if he battled through a storm and refused to let go and slip beneath the water.
Cupping his cheek, I dropped several more soft kisses to his lips, pleading for him to come home to us.
Stay on Midgard and grow old with me. I pleaded with such relentless fervor, I didn’t realize his eyes had cracked open a fraction until I went to press another kiss to his mouth when I saw him looking back at me.
The air rushed out of me from such stark relief, it was a wonder I could find another breath. That I could even speak.
Yet I could and did, never so grateful.
Murmuring a prayer of thanks to the gods, I blinked back tears and managed a wobbly smile, knowing he would be all right now. “Welcome back, husband.”
“You came, wife,” he whispered hoarsely, worry flaring in his grayish blue gaze. “You are here.”