Chapter 18
SHAW
Due to my distrust in Harald, I don’t join the ceremonial circle immediately.
Instead I threw my things in my sled and found a longhouse roof to watch from.
I had an arrow pointed at Harald’s heart, and when he punched her in the stomach, I almost ended his life.
Then she offered herself as a sacrifice, and I had a better idea.
The malice coursing through my veins drove me to make Harald watch her choose me instead of him.
So I slid off the roof, and not coincidentally, into Siggy.
Siggy was on her way to stop the shattering of the sacred rituals of Yule, and we quickly came up a plan, but I didn’t expect Harald to not let me die with her.
Now we are fucked.
“Harald!” I yell across the crowd, but he’s taking her away, through the snowy village roads to the gates. His men pummel me before I can reach her. Too many men throw punches and grab my limbs, making it impossible.
“Are you insane?” Jorvik asks, landing a decent punch to my jaw. Given the way this played out, maybe I deserve this from him.
“You could have stopped him from beating her at any time. You told him about the map when she asked you not to. You didn’t care that she didn’t want to marry Harald. Don’t fucking come for me now,” I gurgle at the little shit as he hits me again.
“Make him watch,” Jorvik instructs, and they haul my sorry ass down the road too.
Her red hair is tangled in the crown still on her head.
I have to believe there is dormant power in me that she can bring out.
After years of seclusion, searching for forgiveness and a way home, I found her.
That kiss we shared will not be our last. It is only the first of many once I figure out how to save both our asses from the mess we’ve made.
The snow outside the village wall is past my knees.
I know from touching her in the maze she has nothing underneath that flimsy dress to keep her warm.
If she dies before me or I can’t complete the ritual, I will be stuck here for another thousand years, and her fight, her ferocity, will be in vain.
Taking heavy steps though the snow while being held at sword point, I look at the moon casting an iridescent glow over the icy fjord and pray.
“You’re an idiot. You could have had anything you wanted from Harald if you brought her to him,” the man closest to me says.
Spitting blood at his feet, I reply, “A woman comes to you when she’s ready. Soon there will be a reckoning, and the gods will remember whose side you are on.”
The mention of the gods instills fear into the fragile minds of the men around me. Swayed by the false narrative of Harald and the flashes of riches, most have forgotten how we once lived mutually with the gods. They have forgotten how to seek the divine.
Grinding my jaw at my ignorance, I remember spending a lifetime acting like my position didn’t matter.
Instead, I wallowed in my own self guilt and lack of purpose.
Maybe I was just like them and that is why I was cast out.
They slam my back against a tree at the edge of the fjord, and I look over to see Rasha trembling.
“It’s going to be okay.” My words fall flat.
“I know,” she answers, but she doesn’t look like she believes me. “Will the gods welcome me when I die?”
“Trust Siggy. She can stop the flames from hurting you. You’re not going to die.”
“We will run the rest of our lives if I don’t die tonight,” she murmurs, her body shivering in the thin dress.
“You are beautiful,” I say, and her mouth forms a little smile. “You are, and not just because I remember how it felt to hold you in my hands, but because you are willing to stand up to them.”
She strains her wrists against the ropes, letting her head drop. Tears hit the snow, and I realize she doesn’t want me to see her scared.
“Rasha, look at me,” I murmur, pulling my elbows taught against the binding to get closer to her.
Her face is red and splotchy, but she looks over at me anyway.
I want to tell her what I am, and that there is far more at play than petty Harald.
But there will be time to explain everything.
Men are coming for her now after they hauled an old, beat up longboat down the snowy embankment and onto the ice.
Vikings slide and march along the path we created, carrying dry evergreen boughs from inside the stronghold.
Fuck, what if this doesn’t work? Siggy is here, thank the fucking fates, and muttering all sorts of ancient prayers.
Her arthritic hands slip over Rasha’s limbs, coating her in oil so that the flames hopefully won’t burn her.
In the rush of everything that is happening, I hear soft cries from Rasha.
The woman I am supposed to be saving can no longer hold back her fear. And where’s her brother?
I crane my neck to see Jorvik holding Joanna, who is rightfully sobbing against his chest. That is a problem for another day. I focus on whittling away the rope in between my wrist and the tree bark.
“Let’s get this over with,” Harald hollers, standing by the haphazardly decorated funeral longboat. Siggy gives me a small shrug of encouragement before following Rasha down the fjord.
Harald renounces the gods in front of the clans while I desperately try to untie myself. He pledges his allegiance to the King who will come and bring order to the heathens. Everyone walks by me, gathering to hear him and see the Maiden give her life for Yule.
Rasha is stripped of her crown, and the ties of her dress are opened. Katrine is shaking through sobs when she steps in front of Harald and paints Rasha like we would a corpse with black lines and dots. Rasha’s whole body stiffens as she gives Katrine a kiss on the cheek.
Harald uses the chains I forged to tie her to the boat, sliding the heavy iron across her legs and around the bench. He forces her to lay down and threads the chain through her arms, latching the clasp against her heart where she won’t be able to reach the lock.
“You are taking too much time.” I recognize Enora’s voice and still my hands as she cuts the ropes. “Do something,” she urges, and I can’t blame her.
“I am. I need your help. I packed a sled and need you to move it out of the gate while they are here. Can you do that for me?”
She says yes, running toward the village. Retreating to the shadows of the forest, Aslaug hot nose bumps the back of my knees, and I bend down to scratch her head.
“Take this to her without being seen,” I ask, and the great cat looks at me like she’s waited her whole existence for this task. “Wait till they think she is lost to this world, Aslaug. We cannot afford a mistake.” I bring my face against her warm head.
Desire and jealousy can wait till after we have the bow, and Rasha is safe, miles away from this mess.