Kept killing.
I witnessed the final confrontation with Gnut through the eyes of his men. Coated in blood and gore with my teeth bared, I was more monster than woman, and a shudder of relief ran through me as Bjorn’s axe cleaved Gnut’s head from his shoulders, and the last stanza of Steinunn’s song flowed away on the wind.
Prying my fingers loose from their death grip on Bjorn’s shirt, I turned to find the crowd shifting and shaking their heads as the vision cleared from their mind’s eye. Ylva hugged her arms around her body, her face a mask of revulsion that didn’t fade as she looked to me. Snorri alone seemed unaffected, moving to rest a hand on Steinunn’s shoulder as he shouted, “Saga foretold that the shield maiden’s name would be born in fire! Foretold that she would unite all of Skaland beneath the one who controlled her fate. And now you have seen what it means to defy the will of the gods!”
The crowd shifted, turning to look at me. Not with respect, but with fear.
“Tomorrow, Steinunn will leave Grindill to spread word of our battle fame. She will travel through Skaland, moving from village to village, and in her wake our people will come in droves to swear oaths to me, their king,” Snorri roared, calling their attention back to him. “And those who fight at my side will be sung about for generations to come!”
The crowd cheered, and a heartbeat later drums began to pound. Jugs of mead were passed around as Snorri broke open Gnut’s stores to reward those who followed him. I stared blankly at the festivities, horror rooting me in place, because that couldn’t have been what I’d done. Wasn’t how I remembered it all, because in the moment, it had felt like justice. Like I’d been righting a wrong.
Like I’d been punishing those who’d taken Bodil from me.
Bile burned my throat. Afraid that I’d vomit in front of everyone, I twisted on my heel and muttered, “I need air.”
I walked with no destination in mind, knowing only that I needed to be away from the crowd. Needed to be away from all those people who’d stared at me like I was a monster. Who’d follow me not out of respect but fear. Vaguely, I felt Bjorn on my heels, a silent shadow watching over me. My shoes slid as I skidded to a stop and rounded on him. “It’s a lie. I don’t know if Snorri made her do it or if those who she spoke to lied, but that wasn’t how it went. The people I killed…they were the enemy. They were attacking me. They…” I trailed off as I took in the look on Bjorn’s face. The exhaustion. The grief.
“A skald’s magic can’t depict lies.” His voice was low. “No matter what people told Steinunn, the magic of her song reveals only the truth as seen by the gods.”
My lip quivered. “Is…is that what you saw, then?”
Bjorn’s silence was all the answer I needed.
“I don’t know how you can stand to look at me,” I whispered. Spinning away from him, I took one step before he caught me around the middle and pulled me into a narrow space between buildings.
“I saw you lose yourself.” His breath was hot against my face, forehead pressed to mine and hands gripping my hips, holding me in place. “To grief. To the battle.”
I wanted to accept his excuses, except that I’d seen how my eyes had burned red, nothing about them human. “What if I didn’t lose myself, Bjorn? What if I found myself?”
Lifting my chin to meet his shadowed gaze, I whispered, “Since the moment I learned of your mother’s foretelling, I’ve questioned how my magic has the power to unite a nation. What if this is it? What if…what if my power is fear?”
His fingers tightened on my hips, body pressing against mine. “You have the power to change your fate, Freya. You can leave. We can leave. Let me take you away from all of this. Force the Norns to alter our futures and to Helheim with everything my mother says.”
We can leave. A tremor ran through me at what he was offering. Not just a chance to escape this madness, but to do it with him at my side. “You’d leave?”
“Yes.”
“But…” I swallowed hard. “You’d be giving up so much. Your family. Your people. The chance for vengeance against Harald. The chance to rule Skaland.”
“I don’t want to rule,” he answered. “I want you.”
Bjorn’s mouth claimed mine then, one hand abandoning my hip to tangle in my loose hair. I whimpered, allowing him to part my lips, our tongues entwining. My body’s reaction to his touch was swift and fierce because it was always lurking beneath the surface. Always wanting.