Page 51 of A Curse Carved in Bone
Unplugging my ears, I watched and listened, my discomfort building because Steinunn made it seem as though I had wanted to come to Nordeland. As though Harald had aided me rather than kidnapped me. And when it came to the battle against the Islunders, she showed none of my defiance, only me fighting alone on the beach against the helmeted warrior. Me, falling to my knees and cursing the Islunders, andthen the bodies floating on the sea. Not the hollow expressions of terror on the children as the drakkar had been dragged back to the beach but of them being folded into the arms of the villagers.
I had always been told that a skald’s song showed only the truth, but now it was clear to me that partial truths could amount to a significant lie.
The last notes of her voice drifted into the rafters, taking with them the visions. A cheer broke out in the hall, the people clapping their hands and shouting toasts. Not to Steinunn.
But tome.
I tensed at the reaction, and a tightness bound my chest as they turned to give me thanks for saving the children. They came forward in twos and threes to clasp my shoulder and praise me. My responses were reflex, the words merely noise in my ears as I came to terms with the fact that they did not see me as something to be feared but as a hero and protector.
Someone who did good.
It was so at odds with how my own people had seen me. Logically, I knew that it was a manipulation of Steinunn’s art but I could not deny that their response made me feel better about what I had done.
All of that fell away as horns blared outside and everyone around me tensed.
“The gods have mercy!” Una shrieked, the servant almost falling as she climbed out of Troels’s lap. “The Skalanders have come for her!”
“He’s here!” Harald shouted, and the terror in his voice made me want to slap him. “We need Freya!”
“It’s impossible for Snorri to be here,” I snarled. “Mustering an army takes time, and it would take days for them to travel to Hrafnheim from the coast on foot!”
Yet there was no denying the fortress was under attack. “Get Tora and the others!” I shoved him toward the great hall. “But leave Freya be! She can’t fight for you anyway!”
Harald took off at a sprint that belied his age, and though every instinct told me to go to Freya’s side, my feet took me to the wall. I was a Nordelander and my promise to defend my people meant something.
Horns blared warning from the watchtowers and Hrafnheim filled with shouts of alarm that turned to screams of terror as civilians stepped out their doors and saw the arrows flying overhead. But the net of wards kept them from coming through, everyone in the streets safe unless the runes were damaged.
No sooner had the thought rolled through my head did I hear a cryof alarm from the wall that the wards had been breached. A heartbeat later, arrows tipped with flame began to fall upon the buildings, catching them ablaze. Panicked people exploded out of their homes and raced to the wells for water, desperate to put out the fires before they spread.
A crying boy crouched in the path before me and I put on a burst of speed, catching him up just before a falling arrow struck. It sliced along my arm instead, the pitch catching my tunic alight until I rolled into a puddle. “Run to the great hall,” I shouted to the boy. “Go! Quickly!”
He obeyed without hesitation. Nordelander children always did.
I ran in the opposite direction, taking the steps rising to the battlements three at a time. Skade was in the thick of things, shouting orders at warriors to fetch water even as she released arrow after glowing arrow into the darkness.
“They covered the runes,” she roared over the noise. “We need to wash away the blood or they’ll set the entire fortress ablaze!”
Leaning over the battlements, a curse tore from my lips at the sight of blood and gore dripping down the wall. It concealed one of the wards, and I knew that it only took damaging one to erase the net of protection they cast over the city. An arrow flew past my shoulder and I ducked behind the wall.
“Shoot them!” I shouted at her.
“I can’t see them!” Skade shouted back. “It’s too dark and they move each time they loose an arrow!”
“Tyr!” I growled the god’s name and my axe appeared in my hand. Immediately two arrows flew in my direction, but I batted them out of the air.
Taking a few steps back, I ran forward and hurled my axe. It flipped end over end, soaring over the dark current of the Rimstrom to sink into the ground a dozen feet up the river’s banks.
Brighter,I silently willed the fire and the flames flared. Illuminating the shadows of the men attacking the fortress. “Skade!”
She’d already lifted her bow. The green arrow arced through thenight and punched through the chest of one of the shadows only to reappear in her hand. But the attackers were already running. Fleeing into the darkness where they were out of reach.
Tora exploded up the steps behind me, lightning crackling between her palms. I pointed, and with no hesitation she released a bolt. A scream of agony split the night, and then there was silence outside the walls.
Not so behindus.
Several roofs were engulfed with flame, and smoke hung in a choking cloud over Hrafnheim. If it spread, the bridges would have to be lowered to allow people to escape the fire. Except that meant facing whatever force lurked in the darkness.
“Go!” Skade shouted at the warriors. “Get water! Put out the flames!”
