Until there was no one else to fight.
Blood dripped from my face as I paused, my anger hunting for more because it was not satisfied. Could not be satisfied.
Only for my eyes to land on Bjorn. He stood a few paces away, covered in blood and gore, shoulders rising and falling as he panted for breath. There were dead men at his feet that didn’t fall to my blade, yet I hadn’t even known he was there. Hadn’t seen anything other than the men and women who’d fought against me, their faces already a blur.
“Do you know how many times you almost died,” he hissed. “How many men came at your back while you were lost to bloodlust? How many times I screamed your name and you never heard?”
I bared my teeth, still lost to the rage. I didn’t want to find my way out, because once I did, I knew there would be a reckoning. So I twisted away, screaming, “Where is Gnut? Where is your jarl who brought blood and ash upon you rather than swear allegiance to the king of Skaland?”
“Freya!” Bjorn snarled, but I ignored him, moving between the buildings, my voice a strange singsong tone as I crooned, “Come out, Gnut. Where are you?”
Vaguely I was aware others had joined Bjorn. Heard Snorri demanding that I silence myself, but I ignored them all as I hunted.
Then a familiar man with an axe stepped from between the buildings, a dozen blood-spattered warriors behind him, all of them eyeing me warily.
“There you are, Gnut.” I gave him a bloody smirk. “I thought I was going to have to hunt you down among the children.”
“You let them be, witch,” he hissed, hefting his axe.
“It isn’t me they should fear.” I stalked closer. “It’s you. You, who cared more for your pride than for their safety.”
“Says the monster who slaughtered their parents!”
A shudder ran through me, the tip of my blade wavering, but I shoved away the rising guilt. Buried it deep beneath my rage. They deserved everything they got for standing against us. For killing Liv and burning Halsar. For taking Bodil from me.
My eyes filled with crimson and smoke, my skull throbbing with such ferocity that I couldn’t think. There was only wrath.
Lifting my sword, I screamed wordlessly and charged, needing his blood on my hands.
A flash of flame shot past me.
Gnut’s grin faded. The spark of malice in his eyes dimmed as his severed head slid sideways, landing on the ground with a thud a heartbeat before his body collapsed.
Dead.
“Do the rest of you surrender?” Bjorn’s voice cut through the silence. “Or do you wish to die to the man?”
The remaining warriors shifted uneasily, then tossed their weapons forward and fell to their knees.
I stared at them, my hands shaking, the magic on my shield pulsing. Gnut had been mine to kill. All these men had been mine to kill, and Bjorn had stolen that away from me.
Whirling around, I stalked toward him. “Why did you steal vengeance from me?”
He snorted in disgust. “You mean, vengeance from them?”
Knocking aside my weapon with a careless swipe of his hand, he caught hold of my shoulders, spinning me to see Snorri’s warriors shove a pair of archers out from behind cover. “Gnut was luring you in, Freya. Another few paces and you’d have had a pair of arrows in you, and Gnut would have died with the honor of having put you in the grave.”
He twisted me back around, bending so that we were nose-to-nose. “But maybe that was what you wanted?”
“Back off!” I shoved him hard, but I might as well have shoved a stone wall for all the good it did.
“Why?” Bjorn demanded. “So that I won’t be close enough to save you the next time you try to get yourself killed?”
“Silence yourselves!” Snorri roared, but I ignored him.
“Gnut deserved to die,” I shouted. “All of this is because he refused to bend. Bodil is dead because—”
“Because she willingly went into battle, and in battle, people fall. She knew the risks as well as anyone, Freya. Certainly knew them better than you.”
I flinched, stepping back from him, my rage faltering beneath the onslaught of sharper emotions. I’d chosen to fight today knowing that I was weak. I’d stumbled. I’d dropped my shield. I’d left Bodil exposed.
I’d killed her.
My shield slipped from my hand, magic extinguishing as it hit the ground. Bodil was dead because of me.
“Bodil was a warrior.” Bjorn’s voice was quiet, as though his anger had been extinguished alongside mine. “She died with a weapon in hand and will be in Valhalla now.”