I gaped. I couldn’t help it. Bodil was a famous warrior and the only woman living who claimed the title of jarl. But more than that, she was a child of the god Forseti, able to tell truth from lie, no matter who spoke. Which meant if Ylva lied about what she’d been doing, Bodil would know.
Whether she’d share that information might be another matter.
“Ylva met with me to discuss an alliance,” Bodil said. “Given what I witnessed tonight, the very gods themselves stepping onto the mortal plane to accept Freya’s sacrifice and claim her as their own, I saw merit in her proposition. I will follow the shield maiden into battle against our mutual enemies.”
Her words were lost in a drone of noise because this didn’t make sense. Ylva had been with Harald, not with Bodil. I’d seen…
What had I seen?
The answer to that was nothing. But Harald had been talking to someone and what I’d heard of the conversation had been damning; plus I’d seen Ylva unable to cross her own wards into the hall.
You never saw her face. The first kernels of doubt filled my chest that perhaps I’d jumped to a conclusion. Except everything I’d seen, everything I’d heard…it pointed to Ylva.
“I accept your allegiance,” Snorri finally said, the tone of his voice suggesting that he wished it were coming from anyone but her.
“My allegiance is to the shield maiden, not you.”
Snorri’s face darkened, but Ylva stepped between them. “She is wed to Snorri, so it amounts to the same.” Meeting her husband’s eyes, she added, “Bodil has long been a friend to me, so her alliance is one we can count on.”
There was nothing Snorri could say, and everyone present knew it. Given he’d said nothing about having convinced any of the other jarls to join him tonight, I doubted he’d been successful. He needed an alliance and couldn’t afford to be particular about where it came from. The muscles in Snorri’s jaw worked back and forth, likely his pride warring with practicality, but he nodded. “Let us drink to first steps down the path the gods have foretold.”
Someone retrieved a jug of mead and Snorri lifted it. “To a united Skaland!” he roared, and everyone shouted “Skal!,” toasting the alliance as the jug was passed around. When it reached me, I took a mouthful and muttered “Skal,” but as I handed it off, the skin over my spine prickled.
Twisting on my heel, I watched Bjorn approach, his expression grim.
“Where were you?” Snorri demanded. “Why did you leave Freya alone?”
“I needed to speak to a seer,” Bjorn said. “I was gone only for a short time, but when I returned, Freya was gone. I searched for her, though I see she is quite fine.”
“Are you mad?” Ylva snarled. “Why would you risk speaking with another jarl’s seer?”
Bjorn shrugged. “Seers always speak the truth for fear of the wrath of the Allfather. I sought guidance.”
I glanced to Bodil to see if her magic scented a lie on his lips, but the jarl’s face held only curiosity.
Snorri’s eyes narrowed. “What did the seer say that was so worth you leaving Freya alone?”
“She told me that an unwatched hearth spits the hottest embers and that an untended hall is formed of the driest kindling.”
My pulse quickened even as Ylva’s eyes widened. “Halsar.”
Bjorn lifted one shoulder. “She offered no clarity.”
“We cannot wait until dawn!” Ylva rounded on Snorri. “We must leave now. Send word down the mountain to Ragnar, so that he might ride ahead and avert whatever disaster this seer has foreseen.”
“It’s a test,” Snorri murmured, his eyes distant. “The gods are testing my commitment. Forcing me to choose between that which I have and that which I might achieve.”
“We left our people undefended,” Ylva shrieked. “Every warrior we have is here or at the base of this cursed mountain. The women and children stand alone.”
Nausea rolled in my guts as I remembered what Bjorn had told me the night Gnut had attacked: that Snorri valued his warriors over innocents and that he’d sacrifice the latter to ensure the strength of the former. Because it was the warriors who would see him to the crown, not helpless children.
Yet those very warriors shifted uneasily, for it was their friends and families we’d left undefended. Several of them looked on the verge of speaking out, but then Snorri lifted his voice over the crowd. “The gods themselves stepped onto the mortal plane tonight to honor the shield maiden who will unite Skaland beneath one king. One army, which we will wield against our enemies with no mercy. Together, we have the might to defeat our enemy when he steps out of the confines of Fjalltindr, but you’d rather race home for fear of a seer’s obscure ramblings?”