Weighed upon him? My chest hollowed and I looked at the mud between us. For most of my life, I’d hidden my magic, my heritage, which meant keeping it from everyone I’d ever known. Never once had I told, because I’d understood intrinsically that it wouldn’t just be me who would be hurt if my secret got out, it would be my family. “It doesn’t much matter now.”
Ingrid hugged me tightly, my one hand trapped between us, the hilt of the sword digging into my breastbone painfully. “This is a gift from the gods, Freya. You must look at it as such.”
I didn’t trust myself to say anything, so instead I only nodded and turned back to those waiting. Ylva scowled at me, but Bjorn’s gaze was on Ingrid, who was splashing away through the mud. “I take it back,” he said. “She does not deserve better than your brother.”
“What do you know?” I muttered, not bothering to hike up my skirts again, for the hems were already stained gray and dripping.
“Very little,” he said. “But I’m neither deaf nor blind, so I saw how she spun your sacrifice into a gift from the gods so that she need not feel guilt over it. You are well rid of her.”
He wasn’t entirely wrong, but Bjorn’s words only made the hollowness in my core grow.
Alone, that was how I felt. As though I faced a great army, and all those I’d been so certain would be at my back had vanished. My eyes stung and I blinked rapidly to keep tears from forming, but a few still escaped, mixing with the melting snow running down my face as I walked toward the beach.
I’d not gone more than a handful of steps when Bjorn’s hand closed on my arm. “Ingrid’s cowardice does not diminish the honor of what you did.”
Swallowing, I met his emerald gaze as I said, “I regret nothing,” then pulled from his grip and carried on.
A crowd had gathered, Snorri standing apart with an ancient woman who I supposed was the matriarch who’d conduct the ceremony. My eyes drifted from them to the long stretch of dock, next to which sat several drakkar, the flags on their masts fluttering in the wind. They were huge, capable of holding at least a hundred warriors, and I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to stand in one, the drummer beating a thundering rhythm as the oarsmen drove the drakkar into battle. What it would be like to leap into the water, shield up against a rain of arrows, racing onto a beach where the sword in my hand would clash against that of my enemies as armies collided. My fingers clenched on the hilt of my father’s weapon, my heart driving away the sluggish weight of grief in my veins and filling them with fire. For Ingrid had not been wrong that there was much to this new path I faced that sang to my soul.
And that, at least, was something to live for.
* * *
—
The ceremony was brief and lifeless, both Snorri and I saying what needed to be said, then exchanging blades, the one he gave to me newly forged and unsharpened, rendering it as devoid of sentiment as it was of edge. If he noticed or cared that the sword I gave him was my father’s, he didn’t show it. Yet the moment the ceremony was over, it was as though a bolt of Thor’s lightning struck, filling Snorri with an urgent energy as he turned me to face the crowd.
“Twenty years ago,” he shouted, “the seer spoke a prophecy of a shield maiden, a child of Hlin, born under the blood moon and destined to unite the people of Skaland beneath the rule of the one who controlled her fate. A prophecy that said her name would be born in the fire of the gods. For twenty years, I have searched for this maiden, hunted for the woman who’d unite our people against our common enemy, King Harald of Nordeland.”
The crowd shifted restlessly, several calling out curses at the king who ruled across the Northern Strait.
“Many of you have asked why I would wed this woman when I have a wife such as Ylva,” he continued. “Let me assure you, it is not for love or lust, but for you, my people! For this woman is the shield maiden, the child of Hlin, her name revealed in the fire of Tyr!”
He took the shield one of his warriors held out and offered it to me. My skin burned hot despite my dress being soaked with melted snow, and taking it in my grip, I whispered, “Hlin.”
Magic flared to life inside of me, rushing through my hand in a hot flood to cover the shield with silver light, glowing like a beacon. The crowd gasped and stepped back, their eyes wide at the sight of magic they’d only heard of in stories. Magic they didn’t understand, which explained their apprehension.
“She will bring us battle fame!” Snorri roared. “She will bring us wealth! She will bring us power! She will bring us victory and vengeance against the bastards of Nordeland! For with her in our shield wall, we will be favored by the gods themselves!”