“Call his bluff,” Bjorn said under his breath. “If he kills them, he’ll no longer have leverage over you. He won’t do it.”
Geir and Ingrid chose this, the voice whispered from the depths of my mind. They’ve earned this fate. Why sacrifice your own destiny to protect them from it?
I gave a sharp shake of my head to silence it, even though I knew it was part of me that had whispered the words. Staying would have a price. Leaving would have a price. Indecision wracked my body, threatening to tear me apart, because I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t see a way forward. So I took a step backward in the direction of the gate.
“Freya,” Geir pleaded, his eyes full of panic. “Please! Ingrid…she’s pregnant!”
I froze.
“I might not deserve your protection,” my brother said, tears running down his cheeks, “but the baby does. Please don’t abandon your own flesh and blood.”
My brother had his failings, but duplicity was not one of them. I had prayed they would be granted children, but as always, the gods gave, then took away in the next breath.
“Freya, if we are to leave, it must be now,” Bjorn said. “The Nordelanders are nearly upon us!”
I didn’t know what to do, and the weight of all the fates entwined with mine pressed down and down.
Remember who you are.
“I’ll stay.” The words croaked from my lips. “I’ll fight.”
“It is your destiny,” Snorri said, then shouted, “To the ramparts!”
I stood staring at the mud for a long moment, then lifted my head to meet Bjorn’s gaze. “You should go while you can.”
Bjorn lifted a hand, his fingers curving around my face as he bent down and kissed me. “Never. I will stay at your side, whether in life or as we walk through the gates of Valhalla. I swear it.”
“They’re here!” voices shouted from atop the walls, and my stomach clenched because for all I’d agreed to stay and fight, I did not see how we could hope to win.
“To the ramparts! To the ramparts!”
The urgency and fear in the voices of my people sent a jolt through my veins, and I broke into a run, climbing to the battlements. The sight stole the breath from my chest.
Stretched out before the gates and rapidly encircling the fortress were the armies of Nordeland. Warriors in thick leather and mail, all armed to the teeth, shields held at the ready. And before them waited a familiar form.
King Harald, flanked on one side by Skade and the other by Tora, who was battered and bruised, the hair on the left side of her head burned away. A sickening suspicion filled my stomach at the sight of her injuries. Snorri’s warriors had never found the body of the child of Thor who’d killed Bodil, and had assumed it had been incinerated in the blast. But Tora’s burns suggested an alternative that made my anger rise, and I muttered, “Harald was allied with Gnut.”
Snorri cursed and spat over the ramparts, seeming to have made the same connection.
Keeping out of range of Snorri’s archers, Harald’s eyes locked on mine. He slowly withdrew a length of white fabric from his belt and, with utter fearlessness, approached the deep trenches surrounding the fortress.
“Such a shame to meet again under these circumstances, Freya,” he shouted upward, the wind catching and pulling at his golden-brown hair. “But for the sake of my kingdom, I could not stand by and watch you continue down this path. Surrender yourself to me, and you have my word that I’ll take my army, get back on our ships, and return to Nordeland.”
“And why should I believe that?” I shouted back to him. “You are the one who has brought an army onto our lands, the one who allied with our enemies. You are the one who offers threats!”
“What choice did I have?” His chest rose and fell with a sigh. “I’d hoped to avert the future Saga saw—the future Saga foretold to her own son—in ways other than war, but my wishes have not come to pass. I cannot allow you, under the guidance of King Snorri, to bring death to my lands, so here I stand.”
“That is not what Saga foretold!” Snorri roared. “Which is why you killed her for it!”
“We both know it wasn’t me who brought violence to Saga’s door,” Harald answered, and next to me Bjorn shifted his weight. “That’s a lie you’ve used to justify your intentions to make war upon Nordeland.”
Snorri lunged against the wooden balustrades, seemingly ready to hurl himself off to attack Harald man-to-man. “Liar! You killed Saga and then stole my son!”