Filed to story: A Fate Inked In Blood Free
Knowing I needed to recover the situation, I said, “Besides, napping isn’t a skill, so you shouldn’t brag about it.”
“I beg to differ,” he answered. “But the point is moot, given I wasn’t exercising said skill. Liv’s home and all her supplies were burned in the fire, so Ylva requested those with knowledge search out plants needed to help the injured.”
My chest tightened, partially in shame that I’d accused him of sloth and partially because I was reminded of the fallen healer. Liv and all the others had died because their warriors weren’t here to defend them. “That was good of you.”
Bjorn shrugged, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a jar. “Given my relationship with fire, Liv taught me how to make your salve years ago. It’s likely not as good as hers but it should do until another healer can make more.”
Of all the things that needed to be done, of all the things Bjorn could’ve been doing, he’d been making more salve for my hand. A flood of emotion made it abruptly impossible to breathe, but I managed to choke out, “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
It was everything, and my eyes burned, tears threatening. I hoped both of them would think it smoke from the fire.
Bjorn took hold of my right hand. Though I had little sensation in the scars, I could still feel the heat of him, and my breath caught.
“How were you burned?” Bodil asked, and I jerked, realizing how this must look. Extracting my hand from Bjorn’s, I took the salve and rubbed it over my scars, more than aware that this was something Bjorn excelled at. But if I allowed him, I’d feel things that I shouldn’t. I knew that while I might be able to hide those feelings from most people, Bodil would sense the deception.
“Born-in-Fire needed a weapon and the closest one to hand was my axe,” Bjorn answered the jarl, his voice clipped. “She’s a woman who does what needs doing.”
“The best kind of woman.”
My cheeks heated at being so discussed, and I bent over my hand to put extra vigor into my application of salve so as to seem not to have heard.
Silence hung among the three of us, thick enough to cut with a knife, then Bodil said, “You left in the middle of your father’s speech, Bjorn.”
He huffed out an irritated breath. “Grindill has never been assailed. That’s one of the reasons Gnut can afford to be an unapologetic prick-his position is strong. The only way to take it is by starving those inside, which I suspect is not the glorious victory my father has in mind.”
“So you left because you disagree with his strategy?”
Bjorn’s knee bumped mine as he shifted, and I leaned away despite feeling drawn to him like iron to a lodestone. “Grindill is a fortress. Towering walls of earth and oak ringed by a moat filled with sharpened stakes. Snorri says he wishes to take it to give his people better lives, yet how many will die in the taking of it?”
I…hadn’t known that.
Though Snorri had spoken of walls, I’d envisioned a slightly grander version of Halsar. Not a fortress. I wondered how many others who’d lifted their hands in support of Snorri’s plan were the same. People who’d never ventured more than half a day from Halsar, the town we intended to capture nothing more than a name to them.
“All great accomplishments come at a price, Bjorn,” Bodil answered. “Between Snorri and me, we have many good warriors. We have you.” She gave him a pointed look. “But most importantly, we have Freya, who is favored not just by Hlin, but all the gods.”
Bjorn snorted. “Yes, yes. To make a king out of the one who controls her fate. Yet no mention of how many will die to achieve that end. Perhaps he will be king of no one, all dead beneath the heels of his ambition.”
The sourness of his tone surprised me, and I twisted at the waist and looked up at him. “You don’t believe your mother’s foretelling?”
“I believe it,” he muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I wish to rush into a battle like this on blind faith.”
“Yet you’ve a reputation across all of Skaland, and Nordeland, as a risk-taker,” Bodil said. “For throwing yourself to where the battle is thickest. How is this any different?”
Bjorn’s jaw tightened and I watched him intently as he met the woman’s gaze. “With respect, Jarl Bodil, just because you can discern the truth does not mean you are entitled to it.”
I didn’t disagree with him, but at the same time, if his concern was only for the lives of the warriors who’d be part of the battle, why not say so, given that he basically already had? Why get his back up now?
In a sudden rush of motion, Bjorn stood. “Take care of your hand, Freya. You’ll need it in the battle to come.” He nodded at Bodil. “Good night to you both.”
Then he strode away, weaving through the multitude of campfires.
“Apologies for his behavior,” I said, turning back to the jarl. “He’s…he’s not had much rest, and Halsar is his home. To see it burned…” I gestured outward, unsure whether any of this was the reason for Bjorn’s rudeness but needing to say something. “He does not wish people to risk their lives unnecessarily.”
Bodil rubbed her chin. “I don’t think that’s his concern. Or at the very least, his concern is for one person, in particular.”
I didn’t answer. How could I when she knew truth from lie, and the truth was not something I dared to voice.
With my heart in my throat, I waited for her to push the issue. To voice her opinion or demand an answer from me. Yet Bodil only picked up a stick and poked the fire before adding more wood. Only when the flames were roaring high did she ask, “Do you believe this is the right path, Freya?”
“I…” Trailing off, I stared into the flames, because this was the first time someone had asked my opinion and I didn’t know that I had one. Or rather, I was afraid-given the recent reminder that I was ignorant of many aspects of the situation-that my opinion was wrong. “I think myself not well enough informed for my thoughts to matter.”
Bodil leaned back on her hands, and I swore I saw disappointment on her face through the haze of smoke, so I added, “I think Snorri is correct that to rebuild Halsar as it was is folly. Not only is it easy to attack, but it is now the greatest target in Skaland, thanks to my presence. We are vulnerable not only to more attacks by Gnut, but to all who feel like-minded in their resistance to seeing Snorri as king.”
“I agree,” Bodil said, and I felt a flush of pride. “But would it not be better to merely build somewhere else? To construct his own fortress?”
“Such an endeavor would take years and a fortune of silver,” I answered. “And in the meantime, all these people will be at risk in whatever temporary homes we construct for them. Winters will see suffering, for many will have been taken from fields or from the hunt to build.”
“Raid. Take what you need.”
“We haven’t the ships to raid across the seas, and raiding those we wish to swear oaths to Snorri seems not a path best taken. They’ll only smile to our faces, then stab us in the back at the soonest opportunity.”