“Are we ever going to get to meet this brother of yours?” Eirik asked.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Thorolf, somewhat sheepishly. “He, ah . . . he takes after our father. But . . .” He looked to Eirik, then to Gunnhild, then back to the king. “You were in danger. How could I stay behind?”
Eirik shifted, and Gunnhild wrung her hands. Where moments ago she’d been victorious, now her heart was dampened by guilt. I never apologized to him.
When she stepped forward, he drew a deep breath as if bracing himself, but otherwise didn’t move.
“I should have been better to you, Thorolf Skallagrimsson,” she said. “I’m sorry. I wish to be known as someone who’s good to her friends and terrible to her enemies, and my friendship is yours without question, should you desire it.”
“Gunnhild speaks for both of us,” said Eirik. “Whatever you decide to do now, know that you’re always welcome in our company.”
Thorolf looked at them. And much like what she’d felt when she had first kissed Eirik—as though she could feel the Norns spinning their fates together, as though her very fingertips were skimming the twisted thread—what Gunnhild felt now, what hung there unspoken in the space between the three of them in that moment, was also a brush with destiny. But with it came a keen sense of foreboding, as though they were toeing too close to something better left alone, as though one too many flicks of the spindle would cause the thread binding them together to snap.
“You have my thanks,” Thorolf said at last, too politely. “I’m leaving for Sogn in the morning. I’ll see how things stand after I’m wed.”
When he took his leave, neither Eirik nor Gunnhild followed; they stood there for a long moment, staring in the direction he’d gone, until Gunnhild said, “I’m going to find Oddny and Signy.”
Eirik shook his head as if rousing himself from a trance. “Your brothers found Signy?”
“Yes, but I mean to hear the full story, and see my sisters settled in. You heard Arinbjorn—Oddny saved my life. We owe both her and Halldor our thanks. If you lift his outlawry, Oddny might even stay—”
“Gunnsa.” He leaned in and lowered his voice despite the noise around them. “Halldor can’t stay here. I can’t declare his outlawry lifted without revealing that he’s still alive.”
“So? He is alive, which means that you didn’t kill him in the duel like Olaf said, which proves Olaf is a liar. You could clear your name.”
“Yes . . .” Eirik chewed this over, then shook his head. “I could, but it would be at Halldor’s expense. Olaf could always deny accountability by saying he fell victim to rumor—he wasn’t there for the duel, after all. Meanwhile, I lied to my father’s face about not knowing Halldor, which would only lend Olaf credibility—and, worse, if people knew Halldor was alive, his fate would be my brother’s to decide.”
She blinked. “Am I missing something? What can he do to Halldor? He’s a free man.”
Eirik looked at her for a beat too long. “And anyway, even if Halldor has really let go of his grudge—how can things go back to the way they were between us? How can I know he’s truly given up on revenge? His honor dictates that the matter isn’t settled. He may feel pressured to take up arms against me again one day.”
“Then settle it another way,” Gunnhild said. “Compensate him. Give him the silver that Olaf refused. Have Hrolf there to mediate and name witnesses.” Her eyes strayed to Thorbjorg’s body, now cradled in Tryggvi’s arms. “And for that matter, find someone to compensate for Rognvald as well—one of Snaefrid’s other sons, perhaps? Thorbjorg was foolish, but she wasn’t wrong. She was only trying to avenge her mentor. She did exactly as I would have done. What I did do.”
“I’ll think on it.” He rubbed his jaw, then laid a hand on her shoulder. “Now go to Oddny.”
37
A SMALL LEAN-TO TENT had been set up in Freyja’s grove, and Halldor lay low there the night after the battle. After Oddny brewed her tea to combat the stabbing pain in her womb and made Halldor another for his knee, she and Gunnhild tended to the injured Hordalanders as best they could before Oddny and Signy returned to the tent at dusk. Signy was quiet, contemplative, and Oddny could tell that, despite Halldor’s victory, her husband was itching to leave this place behind.
The following morning, Oddny trekked back to the estate and spent the day checking in on the wounded and providing additional treatments as necessary. Soon after she returned to the grove, Svein arrived with a small cauldron of stew and a sizable jug of ale.
“If you can’t come to the feast, I’m bringing the feast to you,” he said to Halldor. Then, to Oddny and Signy: “The queen wants to see you two.”
So Oddny and Signy went to the main hall to join Gunnhild. They sat there drinking as Oddny told Gunnhild the tale of her first flight and Katla’s death, and Gunnhild told Signy her version of the events since she’d left home. Signy listened but didn’t talk, refusing to offer any details of what had happened to her between the raid and her rescue. Oddny, remembering what Halldor told her on the ship, didn’t press. Gunnhild seemed to be of the same mind.
It was late in the evening and Signy had wandered off to sit next to Runfrid when Gunnhild and Oddny at last broached the topic of the duel.
“Oddny,” Gunnhild began, “what happened in Vestfold . . .”
Oddny waited for her to go on. When Gunnhild’s eyes met her own, there was sadness in them. Regret. But also steel.
“I’m sorry that what I did hurt you. I truly am. From the bottom of my heart. But I’m not sorry I did it. I’m not sorry I saved Eirik over Halldor. I would do it again. And if that means that our friendship is over, then I’ll have to live with it.”
“And I’m not sorry that I stopped the duel and told everyone you cheated,” Oddny said. “Even though I knew it would hurt you—I couldn’t let him die, Gunna. I love him, and you knew it.”
Gunnhild shifted on her bench. “He can’t stay, Oddny.”
“I know. And we don’t intend to.”
“You don’t?”
Oddny shook her head. “I’ll not stay anywhere he’s not welcome.”
“It’s not that he isn’t welcome. It’s that it’s not safe,” Gunnhild said. “Eirik won’t tell me why. He says it’s because they may end up feeling pressured to duel again, but I can’t help but feel it’s something else.” She looked to Oddny as if expecting an answer, but Oddny offered none.
“Eirik means to compensate him for his father’s death and call the matter settled,” said Gunnhild when she didn’t reply. “He offered as much to Olaf a long time ago, and Olaf refused. And you, Oddny—you saved my life. And you used witchcraft to do it! How can I ever thank you enough?”
“As far as I’m concerned, you don’t need to. You saved Signy. And as for the witchcraft, I had no idea what I was doing,” Oddny admitted. “I only remembered what you’d told me and did what I’d seen you do. I can’t believe it worked.”