“That is a foolish way to walk, Born-in-Fire,” he said, following me. “If you fall, you won’t be able to catch yourself.”
“I’m not going to fall.” Or rather, the risk of doing so seemed far less than losing my fingers to frostbite.
“Quit being so stubborn and let me warm your hands for you.”
Against my backside, I felt a sudden glow of heat and knew that if I turned it would be to find his axe blazing bright. I ground my teeth together, desperately wanting to hold my numb fingers over the burning weapon until they were warm again, but I kept trudging forward, adjusting my shield strap as I glared at Bodil’s back. Everyone else was managing, so I would as well.
“Freya—”
Twisting, I snarled under my breath, “I told you to stay away from—”
My feet slid out from under me, a gasp tearing from my lips. Bjorn reached for me, his eyes wide, but my arm was tangled in my cloak.
I bounced painfully off the slope, my fingers clawing for purchase on the icy rock and frozen mud, but they found nothing. My body flipped and I flew through the air, a scream tearing from my lips as I dropped—
And landed hard with a splash.
Water closed over my head, bubbles exploding from my lips as my shield struck rock, the handle digging into my back and driving the air from my lungs.
I thrashed, desperate for breath, then hands grabbed the front of my clothes and jerked me to the surface.
Spluttering, I met Bjorn’s panicked gaze. “Don’t even say it,” I said between coughs, cold piercing down to my very bones. “Don’t you dare say it!”
“What is it that you think I planned to say?” He pulled me out of the pool of slush and water that I’d landed in, setting me on my feet.
“That you told me so,” I muttered, stealing the words so that he wouldn’t have a chance to embarrass me with them.
“That was not what I intended to say.”
He pulled off my shield and soaked cloak, casting them aside before wrapping his own cloak around my shoulders, heat encasing me and his scent filling my nose. But not even that was enough to ease the violent trembles wracking my body. “What then?” I demanded, seeing Snorri sliding down the slope toward us, eyes full of panic.
“I was going to point out that you have a habit of getting very wet around me,” he said. “I’m starting to wonder whether it’s purposeful.”
For a heartbeat, my body forgot that it was freezing to death and sent blood rushing to my cheeks. I’d told him to stay away. Told him the reasons why I couldn’t be in his presence even though revealing the truth had been humiliating, and now he was making jokes. “Don’t flatter yourself!”
He gripped my hands, his skin scalding against mine. “It is you who flatters me.”
“I did not fall down a mountain to get wet for you, Bjorn!”
“Oh, I know,” he grinned. “It’s really only a hill with lofty aspirations. That”—he pointed off in the distance at a rocky peak—“is a mountain.”
“The only lofty thing I see is your sense of self-worth,” I hissed as Snorri shouted, “Is she hurt?”
“She’s fine,” Bjorn answered. “Only wet and cold. We need to make camp and get a fire going to warm her.”
“We cannot lose the hours,” Snorri growled, throwing up his hands. “We need to crest the summit before nightfall or there will be no chance of making it to Grindill to attack tomorrow night. If we delay, we risk word reaching Gnut that our forces have departed, and he’ll be prepared for an attack from the mountains. We’ll lose the advantage.”
“Better the loss of the advantage than the loss of your shield maiden,” Bjorn snapped. “She’ll do you little good as a frozen corpse.”
“This is the gods testing her!” Snorri gave a sharp shake of his head. “She must prove herself again.” He started to turn, then fixed Bjorn with a glare. “Hlin set you the task of protecting Freya. Allowing her to fall down the mountain was your failure.” Without another word, he stalked up the mountain.
Bjorn abruptly pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me so that my head was pressed against his chest. “It’s not a fucking mountain,” he muttered and I was too miserable to argue, watching as the rest of the warriors trudged onward until only Bodil remained.
“You truly are favored by the gods, Freya,” the jarl said, handing me a skin that smelled of strong drink.