Chapter 85
Thin flakes of snow fall from tenebrous skies. The light carries a dark tint, promising the bitter cold of winter. Nothing new. Three days have passed. Soft days of laughter, warm food and warmer furs. The first days of freedom, and for Eidunn, the first in her life.
Ari’s smell clings to my body, as mine clings to his.
His entire face must carry my scent. This morning’s pleasure, waking to Ari’s lips finding their way down my belly and ending between my legs, had me clawing at the furs.
I should keep my head above the clouds before me.
I should be shaking with pink memories of intimate moments.
And I was, until I stepped outside and felt the tension crackling through the air.
I cannot see Opdal. But it’s there, far below, licking its wounds.
With Sigurd dead, Vidar will inherit his father’s throne.
If Vidar survived. That man wants me dead, or even worse, as his thrall.
I will have to close that chapter, when the time comes.
A part of me hopes the snow will bury what I left behind, but I know better.
Those that chained us would do it again. Drag us all by our hair to force us into servitude. I would rather die. That life is over.
My breath comes out in plumes as I raise my greatest treasure to see it reflect the pale light of day.
The rubies display an endless depth. A furious beauty that both invites and intimidates.
Whenever I look away from the lynx head, it weaves and bends in the corner of my eye, imitating the snarling beast it is forged to resemble.
I’m happy I took it. It is mine to bear. It was always mine. If anything has been decided by fate, it is this. I feel it in my bones. I have defied Norns. I spat on a queen. I burned down a hall. Helped defeat a frost giant. Freed a thrall.
But this? I hold it up to my face, gazing into the prime jewel held in the predator’s mouth. This I would never challenge. Never disobey. We are one. Why oppose oneself?
It is mine.
Even now, it seems to listen. As if waiting for my command, or waiting to give me one. Its rubies flash, not in the light, but beneath its glittering surface. Like something alive lurks within. Power hums beneath its golden sheen. Patient. It yearns to rise. And it will.
It will rise above that bitch Queen who wants to claim my man. Her filthy magic has no place in this world. Wherever she is, I will find her. The south—perhaps a journey would be fitting. Perhaps I—
The door to the cottage opens. I turn and see Ari. His familiar smile dissipates as he throws a glance about him. Maybe he feels the same as me. I return my gaze to the view as he approaches. He lets out a low whistle.
“Special energy in the air today, isn’t it?” he says.
I smile. How connected we are.
“I was just thinking the same.”
“You’ll freeze out here.”
“I’m fine, I’ll just—”
A warm cloak is flung over my shoulders and tucked around me. At first, I’m offended. But then I remember, this is my man. The one I trust with my life. We’re meant to help each other. It feels good being guarded. If that is weakness, then I am weak.
I give him a sideways nod.
“Thank you.”
“Of course, my love.”
Ari’s hand lands on my lower back—enough to remind me that I do not stand alone. He stares out across the land with me before pointing at a large rock formation jutting out of the forest. Far, far below.
“See that?” he asks. “Remember?”
I’m puzzled. What am I supposed to remember?
“No? What is it?”
“Strawberries,” he says with a grin.
I snort. Brought back to the first moment we shared in private. When I had brought a knife to gut him if he tried to rape me. When we had eaten strawberries under the moon, breathing in thick summer air. When we had climbed the rocks and stood at the top, buffeted by wind and he had… he had…
Shared his cloak with me.
Tears flood from my eyes. The memory unfurls within me. So gentle. But I was hard. I had to be. That night feels like another life, an age ago. I was a different woman. But he was there already.
“I remember,” I whisper.
He must also feel different. But he doesn’t show it. Always brave, this man. We stand together in silence before he breaks it.
“You afraid of losing it, or?”
He gestures with his chin to the necklace in my hand. I realize that I’m gripping it so hard my knuckles have turned white. I can barely feel my palm.
“No, I—”
He reaches out and touches it. My body stiffens. No one else has laid a finger on it since the theft. But the gold tingles in my hand, like it approves of him. A pulse travels between us, through the bejeweled metal. I know it felt him. Liked him.
“Relax, Kilda,” he laughs. “I’m not going to run off with it.”
I let it go, expecting him to inspect it and tell me its value, or that we should sell it.
But he walks behind me, lifting my hair from my neck. He reaches around my throat before tying it. Its warmth coils around me. The chain tightens, just barely, as if to remind me that just like I chose it, it chose me.
“Brisingamen,” whispers Ari with a soft laugh.
A gasp escapes me. He can’t be serious. How could I not have thought of it? To be fair, fleeing from frost giants keeps you busy. The thought lingers.
Freya’s fabled necklace. Could it be?
Silly girl. Ridiculous.
“No way, you can’t be seriou—
“Now, it won’t go anywhere.”
The collar fits perfectly. It was made for my neck. The weight settles with authority. Heavy without being a burden. The moment feels like an announcement. Or a coronation. Like the nobles of the south.
This man. He never ceases to surprise me. So smug, so cocky, and yet, so caring. Such an eye for details. A Jotnar skald.
I throw my arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” I say.
“What?” he says, surprised. “For what?”
“You were the first to say my name. The first to put on my necklace.”
He holds my shoulders and stares into my eyes, an attempt to calm me.
“I will be there for many first times, Kilda the Wild.”
“And I for you.”
“And you for me.”
We both nod. I dry tears with his cloak.
“I’m sorry, it’s just—”
“Look there!” he says excitedly, pointing to some birch trees beneath us.
“What? I don’t see anything.”
“It’s still now. Wait until it moves again.”
Then it moves. My eyes widen. Such perfection. Blending in with its environment. Seeking its next prey. A shadow among the trees. Unseen until it’s too late.
“A lynx,” I whisper.
It pauses, its gaze sweeping the ridge. My heartbeat flickers. It’s like it can sense us. Or me. Like it feels my presence. It moves on, as it wills, unclaimed.
Ari massages my shoulders carefully as we enjoy sharing a surreal moment together.
“Like you,” he whispers back.
He’s right. I am free. Hiding in the shadows of the mountains. Like the lynx. The lynx decides where to leap. It decides when to strike.
It has no master.
It has claws to shred with. Teeth to rend.
The lynx’s ears hear the lightest paw and its eyes see the furthest peaks.
It rules its territory. A creature that bows to no one. It slips into the trees and out of sight. A secret I get to keep or share.
My fingers stroke the lynx head hanging from my neck as I gaze across the mountains. The gold and rubies vibrate against my skin. A thrill under my fingertips. But I’m not worried. I’m used to it now. It threatens me, not with danger, but with promise. My will moves with the same motion.
Powerful winds create waves in the treetops below. Somewhere down there, Ragnhild lives. The girl I orphaned. She cursed me with blood on her hands—her mother’s blood.
I curse all you love, she screamed. You will burn.
I should feel guilty. Maybe I do. But guilt is a chain I’ve already broken.
She’s just a child. She’ll forget. Forgive.
The necklace pulses warm against my throat, as if in agreement.
Won’t she?
My eyes wander past Opdal. Beyond the valleys.
This land will be conquered. Its thralls will be freed. Nature will be restored. Fate is not carved or woven. It is taken. Shaped.
My hand finds Ari’s. We share heat. Share life. With every breath.
We are ready.
I have my teacher. I have my closest friend. I even have… Elof.
I have my life and freedom.
More than anything, I have my man. We will vanquish the harsh cold of this world. This realm.
The Norns, the Queen, Vidar, the rest. I refuse to bend the knee.
They will taste my boot.
I will taste their blood.
I hunt again. They will tremble when I stalk the night.
All I see is mine.
I’m Kilda. Kilda the Wild.
I will rule.