“Why not? Thorbjorg is only doing what anyone else would do. If she were a man, or a warrior, she would’ve challenged me to a duel. But instead she has to do what she can, draw things out, target the people closest to me to ward off suspicion. And I’m tired of it. I’m tired of constantly looking over my shoulder. It would be better for everyone if I let her have what she wants. Does my brother not deserve to be avenged?”
“Of course he does,” Gunnhild said fiercely. “No one deserves what you—what your father had you do to him. But if she kills you, it won’t bring Rognvald back.”
“Not any more than you killing Thorbjorg and Katla will bring Heid back.”
“That’s different,” she said. “When I kill them, it won’t just be for revenge, but to protect us. They won’t stop until they’ve seen this through, so I have to stop them before they do.”
“But at what cost?”
“At any cost. Eirik, stop this foolishness. If you were planning to offer yourself up as a sacrifice to ease your guilt, then you should have left me in the woods in Finnmark. The time for that has long passed. Our only option now is to do what we do best.”
“And what’s that?” Eirik asked dully.
Gunnhild grabbed him by the chin and turned him to face her.
“We fight,” she said.
* * *
—
AS SOON AS THE worst of winter had passed and the air began to warm, King Harald spoke of returning to his favorite estate, at Avaldsnes, farther south. At the first thaw, his men began removing his ships from the sheds where they had been stored and maintained. They also uncovered and retarred the ones that had sat on the beach during the long season, Eirik’s own ship among them, to ensure that all were seaworthy.
Eirik summoned the hird to the armory along with Oddny and Gunnhild. As the weather had improved, several ships had arrived from local farms and his hirdsmen had started to return, so a little over half of the hird was present when Gunnhild took her seat next to Oddny and Halldor.
No sooner had she sat down than a wave of nausea hit her, and she took deep, slow breaths through her nose as Oddny shot her a look of concern. Gunnhild shook her head and waited for it to pass. It had been happening for the past week but wasn’t confined to just the morning, as she’d heard was the case when one was with child.
“Gunna,” Oddny whispered, “do you think you’re with—？”
“Impossible,” Gunnhild replied in kind. “It must’ve been something I ate.”
Oddny seemed unconvinced, but when Gunnhild offered no further information, she turned to face forward as the last few hirdsmen trickled into the armory.
“I know you’ve all been wondering whether or not we’ll be raiding after our trip to Birka,” Eirik said once the room quieted. “Between what happened last summer and the scene my brothers caused at my wedding, I’m wary of leaving Norway for any length of time. I have no doubt of my father’s health and ability to rule, but should he happen to die while we’re away, the consequences would be disastrous. I would hear your opinions on the matter.”
“If we don’t go raiding, do you intend to make the royal progress?” Svein asked. He shot a look in Gunnhild’s direction. “To introduce your wife around the country?”
“Those were my thoughts exactly,” Eirik said. “And we’d be away a few weeks at most before making the progress. All in favor?”
No one dissented. Oddny, however, looked concerned.
“And what if we don’t find out where my sister has gone at Birka, or we find she’s been sold somewhere so far away that it’ll take us most of the summer to reach her?” she asked.
“We’ll hire a crew at Birka and go from there,” said Gunnhild.
“No,” said Eirik at once. “Out of the question.”
“What? Oddny and I would be safe. We can look after ourselves,” Gunnhild said, and he cut her a glare, which she returned. If something terrible happened in the short time they were away from Norway and Eirik wasn’t there to face it, she would never forgive herself. She’d go on without him if she had to—Signy was her sworn sister, after all.
“We’ll talk about it if it comes to that,” Eirik said with finality. “Anyone else? Other thoughts? Or are we in agreement?”
“Will we not wait for Arinbjorn to return?” Svein asked.
“We’ve word from Fjordane that his father has fallen ill, so he doesn’t know when he’ll be back,” said Eirik. “Better to leave without him and return sooner.”
Gunnhild didn’t particularly like the idea of going without Arinbjorn—and by the looks on some of the men’s faces, this was a popular opinion. She recalled Thorolf’s words from the first night they’d lain together, about what Eirik was capable of when his foster brother wasn’t there to hold him back, so Gunnhild knew she might have to step into that role should a fight break out or trouble arise.
She hoped it wouldn’t come to that, though. She had enough to worry about; it was likely that she would be fighting all the way to Birka, for she anticipated that Thorbjorg or Katla or the seal would begin to haunt them the moment they set sail. But she’d completed the protection charm to the best of her abilities, so all she could do was put it in her pouch and hope for the best. She needed to remain strong if she was to have any hope of defending against the witches, her sudden bouts of nausea notwithstanding.
So far her illness seemed immune to both potions and spells. And she couldn’t ask Oddny to make her something, because once Oddny found out Gunnhild was sick, she would do the Oddny thing and tell Eirik, and then Gunnhild would have to stay behind, and both of them would say it was for her own good. And then what would happen if the witches sent another freak storm to sink the ship? The hird had survived them before Gunnhild, but still—anything could happen, and remaining at home was a risk she wasn’t willing to take.
She would push through this, no matter what.
“Don’t drink too much this evening,” Eirik said by way of a dismissal. “We leave tomorrow at first light.”
As the men got up to leave, Oddny stayed frozen in her seat and squeezed Gunnhild’s hand so hard she thought her bones would shatter. Gunnhild put a hand atop Oddny’s and bade her relax, but it was hard to contain her own excitement. This was the moment they’d been waiting for ever since they’d first reunited.
“It’s time, Oddny,” she whispered. “We’re going to find her.”
PART IV
30
THE VOYAGE WENT SMOOTHLY until they rounded the southern tip of Norway and began heading east. It was sunrise and Gunnhild and Oddny were still asleep when they heard the shouts, and before they could fully rouse themselves, the ship lurched beneath them and picked up speed. The women exchanged brief looks of panic before tugging on their shoes and sea-cloaks and stumbling out of the tent—and into a fog so thick they could barely make out the mast and sail, let alone the other end of the ship.
“What’s going on?” Oddny called, apprehension writhing in her belly. “Is it another storm?”
Halldor came toward them with a lantern, looking grim. “It came out of nowhere. And look.”