Page 17 of A Curse Carved in Bone
And it had been Steinunn who’d passed word to Skade that I’d goneto see my mother, which meant it had been Steinunn who’d caused my mother’s death.
It was all I could do not to fall upon her and beat her bloody, but I forced myself to keep eating.
“Would you grace us with a song?” Harald asked the skald after we’d eaten. “A story about the gods?”
“Yes, my king.”
As Steinunn climbed to her feet, Bjorn gave a soft snort of annoyance. “I’m going for a bath.”
I glared at the fire, but my traitorous eyes followed him. Watched as he pulled off his tunic and the naked muscles of his back were illuminated, as well as the old burn scars. Guthrum’s tale had begun only after Saga had brought Bjorn to Nordeland, so the exact details of what had happened before were still unclear. I’d been led to believe it was Harald who had attacked Saga and kidnapped Bjorn, only to be told that Harald had saved them. Logically I should just ask for the truth and be done with it, but deep in my heart, I feared that his story would make all the lies he’d told reasonable and just. That I’d lose my grounds to be angry with him, and if I could not be angry, all that would be left was grief.
As though she played for a large group in a great hall, the skald removed her cloak and straightened her red dress. Though the curves of her full breasts strained against the bodice, I noted that her face had gained hollows, the skin beneath her eyes dark with exhaustion. She ran her fingers through her light brown ringlets, which spilled down to her waist and gleamed in the firelight. Steinunn picked up her small drum as Bjorn moved out of the fire’s illumination, and then clucked her tongue in irritation for the instrument was still wet from having been immersed in the sea.
Bjorn had surely known Steinunn was a spy and yet had done little to dissuade me from blaming Ylva for all my woes. So many lies. So many cursed lies, and I was such a naive fool who’d been played by everyone.
Steinunn began to sing, and I tensed, my eyes fixed on the crimson tattoo on her neck that pulsed with the beat of her heart. No part of me wanted her visions playing in my head. But the words were an old poem written about the death of Baldur by way of Loki’s trickery. How Hel had refused to release the most beautiful of gods from Helheim unless all the world wept for his loss. All had but one, the giantess Thokk, and in Helheim, Baldur had remained.
The song trailed away on the wind through the trees, and I lay down to sleep, rolling so that my back was to the fire. The moss beneath me was thick and soft, and every time I moved, it released an earthen scent. The fire crackled, the pine sap making loudpops,but I scarcely noticed. My focus was on the sounds of the others readying their bedrolls for rest. On the soft tread of Bjorn returning to the camp, though I refused to look at him.
Sleep,I ordered myself.You must rest.
But Steinunn’s song had filled my head with thoughts of Helheim and the souls I had sent there. For many, it would be no curse to go to Hel’s realm, but for a warrior, it was worse than death itself to be denied Valhalla.
The Islunders had deserved death. They’d raided an innocent village, killed many, and had intended to steal those children to make them into thralls. But it should be the gods who decided which realm their souls went to after death, not mine. Not in a split-second decision driven by desperation and fear. It was too great a power and the consequences of using it were far too high.
Never again,I promised myself.
Then a branch snapped.
I lifted my head to discover Steinunn creeping away from the fire. I’d vaguely heard her volunteer to take the first watch but instead of doing so, the skald disappeared into the forest. A quick survey of those around me revealed all were asleep, so I silently rose to my feet and followed.
It was the darkest sort of night, neither moon nor stars visible in the sky. To follow her would have been nearly impossible except thatSteinunn carried a lamp. It allowed me to keep enough distance that she did not hear the errant crackle of needle and branch beneath my own shoes, and as a pair, we made our way farther into the woods.
What precise reason drove me to follow the skald, I didn’t know, but with each step, I silently repeated her lies. Her betrayals. The names of those I loved whom her actions had cost me. So by the time Steinunn stopped moving, my fists were balled tight and my anger seethed. I wouldn’t kill her. But by the gods, I fully intended to make her hurt for what she’d done.
As I readied myself to give the skald a pummeling she would not soon forget, my eyes picked up familiar shapes in the shadows around me. Not just trees, but the remains of burned structures. The charred bones of what had once been a village. Steinunn dropped to her knees, and my anger faltered as I took in the row of cairns she knelt before. As I watched, the skald bent her head over a smaller one and her body shook with sobs.
The memory of a conversation she and I had had after the taking of Grindill filled my head.I endured a tragedy that cost me nearly everything I held dear.
A family, it seemed. A child, judging from the small cairn. And from violence, if the remains of the village around me spoke true. A pang of sympathy struck me in the heart, her sobs so thick with grief that it made the air around me unbreathable.
That Steinunn had suffered did not absolve her of the harm she’d caused me, but I would not sink so low as to attack her in the depths of her grief. Exhaling a breath to find some measure of calm, I stepped back with the intent to return to camp.
Only for my shoulders to slam into something solid and warm.
A hand clamped over my mouth to smother my shout even as an arm wrapped around my waist and lifted me off my feet. Panic rose only to burst into aggravation as I inhaled Bjorn’s familiar scent of pine, as well as the soap he seemed to have used while bathing. Only respect for the dead kept me from lashing out as he backed away from thevillage and carried me deeper into the forest. But once we were far enough distant that Steinunn would not hear, I slammed my heels against his shins as hard as I could.
He hissed in pain, muttering curses about my parentage that I did not appreciate as he dropped me to the forest floor. Spinning, I slammed my palms against his chest. Hisbarechest.
My hands jerked away from his skin as though he’d burned me. To cover my reaction, I glared at him in the darkness. “Did your clothes wash away while you were bathing or is it Nordelander custom to wander the woods in the nude?”
“You know it is my preferred attire for fighting,” he replied. “And given I followed you, I needed all the advantages I could muster.”
“Nudity does not serve so well in the dark.”
“I beg to differ.” He leaned closer, the heat of him warming my skin. “Now lower your voice. I bribed Kaja with a rabbit, but she may yet follow and her ears are keen.”
It was tempting to be contrary, but I had enough pragmatism left in my soul to drop my voice to a whisper as I said, “Why? So that she does not hear you brag about your good looks and report back to your master about your excessive vanity?”
