Page 7 of A Curse Carved in Bone
“Smoke!”
Skade’s voice rang loud, and all in the drakkar looked onward to where the huntress pointed. Faint at first, barely more than wisps, but the plumes swiftly grew into great black columns.
Raiders.
“The Skalanders have come!” someone shouted from one of the other ships. “It is Snorri come to steal back his prize!”
My heart lurched, and I climbed to my feet. How could he be here so soon? How was it possible?
The bird I’d seen riding on a man’s shoulder earlier shot down fromthe sky, crying loud as it circled its master, who rode in the other vessel. He roared, “Not Skalanders! Islunders!”
My hands turned clammy at mention of the island nation, for they occasionally raided Skaland’s shores. When they did, none were left alive. Yet every Nordelander on all three ships was now on his or her feet, voices roaring in fury, not fear.
“It seems the Islunders noted our absence and took advantage,” Skade said. “Our villages were left undefended.”
Harald’s jaw tightened and his eyes flicked to the columns of smoke. “They shall pay the price, because the white wolf is here now.” Then he roared, “Ready your weapons, my friends, for we sail to bathe in Islund’s blood!”
The smoke had seemed distant. Yet as we flew along the coast of rocky beaches and verdant forest, it felt only a matter of heartbeats before the black and yellow painted ships came into sight. Islunders, there was no doubt. There were three drakkar dragged onto the beach with a handful of warriors standing guard. And though we had the same number of vessels, the Nordelanders were outnumbered because all the warriors who’d normally sail in Harald’s vessel were in Helheim thanks to me. The only warriors in our drakkar were Bjorn, Tora, and Skade.
Andme.
From the flickers of lightning coming from the village, the Islunders had Unfated of their own.
Bjorn moved past me to the fore, and our elbows brushed. I shifted to the side to put space between us, hating how my body seemed to draw closer to him against my will. If Bjorn noticed, he didn’t show it, for his attention was on Tora.
“You vowed to kill Arkyn before I left for Skaland, Tora,” Bjorn said,axe already burning in his hand. “Yet from the show of light, it seems he is very much alive.”
Their familiarity turned my mouth sour. Though he’d not denied knowing Tora, he’d also allowed me to believe he saw her as an enemy when she was clearly anything but.
Tora scowled. “Arkyn has been hiding from me, so I’ve not had the chance.”
“He’s not hiding now.” Bjorn gave her a smirk that made me want to push him overboard. “Best to make good on your vow lest people start to worry your threats are more bark than bite.”
“Says the man who vowed every day of his life to kill the shield maiden and ended up fucking her instead.”
I scowled at the barb but Bjorn only shrugged. “If you envy my course, you are welcome to find a secluded spot to discover whether Arkyn’s fingers tickle as well as his lightning. I will not judge you poorly for it. Even if he is old and ugly and smells of goat.”
“How do you know what he smells like, Bjorn?” Skade gave him a sly smile.
“He fell on me during a skirmish and I nearly perished from the stink, though perhaps he has found a bath since then. Tora, you may let me know what you discover during your sojourn.”
“Enough chatter, children,” Harald interrupted, and I found myself grateful for it. I was aware that Bjorn knew these people, but I had believed it was knowledge gained as a prisoner. Not knowledge gained because they were comrades. Because they were…family.
“What do you wish to do, Freya?” Harald turned his gray eyes on me. “Will you fight for me to protect the village, or do you wish to remain in the drakkar?”
Every part of me tensed at the request, because I sensed what he desired. For me to call upon Hel to take the Islunders’ lives and souls, ending this fight with my curse so that it cost him nothing. “Fight your own battle,” I hissed. “I do not serve Nordeland, nor will I ever.”
“Islund is no friend to Skaland,” he answered. “They raid your coasts as well.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
He only shrugged. “As you like.” Raising his voice, Harald shouted, “Make ready!”
My heart raced as the Nordelander ships sped toward the beach, and the Islunders standing guard over their drakkar finally noticed our approach. Runners raced up the beach toward the burning village to warn the main war band while the others hefted their weapons, preparing to fight. Their shields were painted black and yellow, bodies clad in mail and fur, and their heads bore the elaborate helms they were known for.
“Skade,” Harald said softly. “End them.”
“Gladly, my king.” Skade’s glowing bow appearing in her hands. Drawing the string, she let the arrow loose and it shot through the air to punch through a man’s chest. Bile burned up my throat as visions of her doing the same to my mother filled my mind’s eye, but then Bjorn shouted, “Beware! The sand is wet!”
