God's Eye (The Northwomen Sagas #1) (31 page)

Crouched at some distance from them, Leif, too, sharpened his attention at that name. Vali didn’t look at him. “She is well. In Karlsa.”

“Karlsa?” Leif asked. “She came with you?”

Vali ignored him and directed his answer to Brenna. “There is nothing left in Estland. For her or any of us. But enough of that. We have all the time in the world to tell our stories. You need healing and rest.”

But his wife shook her head and pushed him until he let her sit up. She took the linen from him and held it to her own throat. Then she turned to Leif. “I want Igul. I want him alive until I have my hands on him.”

Leif nodded but said, “Brenna, Vali is right. You need strength. If he still lives, we will put him away for you, but you need care first.”

She fought her way up to her feet; Vali’s jaw clenched at the rattle of the chains on her. “No. I need the smith to take this cursed thing off of me, and then I need Igul and Viger chained to that table.”

“Viger is dead. I opened his throat.” Leif seemed suddenly abashed.

Holding her hand to her bleeding throat, bruised and scarred, filthy and weak, shackled in iron, Brenna cast a look of regal disdain on Vali and Leif both, as they crouched at her feet. “Have you left me no vengeance of my own? If Igul is dead as well, perhaps I’ll take it out on your hides instead.”

Then she walked out of the stable with her back tall and her shoulders square.

Her braid lay over her shoulder, and Vali thought he saw a scar across the top of her back. Yes, they would tell their stories, and soon. He retrieved his axe from Åke’s head and spat in the dead man’s face. There would be no Valhalla for him. He had been a great warrior once, but he had died a coward. Hel could have him.

~oOo~

He stared at the raw, red flesh around Brenna’s neck. Now he knew that it was the least of her injuries, by far. To remove the shackle, the smith had opened her soiled shift and pushed it down to her waist, and then Vali had seen the ladder of vicious burn scars, still tender and pink, from her shoulders to her hips. Since then, his stomach had tossed violently with a fury he could not assuage.

Åke had died far, far too easily. So had Viger, who had been the one to burn Brenna, Vali now knew. He and Leif had taken her vengeance away from her. He had been single-minded and arrogant, thinking of the wrongs done to Brenna—which he’d only imagined, and were in fact much worse than his mind had conjured—as if they’d been done to him. He could have disabled Åke and left his death to her, but it had not even occurred to him. He had acted out of rage and need.

Leif had caught Igul, however, and he would not be so lucky as the others. The fat punisher was chained, supine and naked, to a massive table in a room made for bad intent.

Once Igul was in custody, they had convinced Brenna to take a moment for herself first. Now—unshackled, tended to by the healer, bathed, braided, and dressed in a gown and hangerock more befitting the great woman she was—she rolled up the sleeves of that gown and picked up a small dirk from a table at the side of the room, on which were arrayed a number of brutal tools.

When she had instructed that Igul should be stripped of his clothes, Vali got a sick feeling in his stomach about the kind of wrongs Brenna meant to right in this room. But he stood aside and remained quiet; he would not interrupt or interfere.

Brenna had wanted Leif in the room, as well. Vali felt jealous and territorial; he didn’t like that there was ease between them when Leif had caused so much of the damage they were repairing today. Brenna’s trust in the man spoke to the truth of his friendship, perhaps, but her body told the story of how much she’d suffered because Leif had let her be taken.

Igul shook, making his chains rattle, but he had not yet spoken, neither word of challenge nor of plea. When Brenna came to the table, standing at his hip with the dirk in her hand, however, he grunted out a “No.”

Brenna stared at the blade. “I told you once I would bite it off, but I have no wish to have that diseased thing in my mouth. So a blade will do instead.”

Vali’s fists clenched so hard that he felt blood wet his palms.

“No,” Igul said again, panic adding an edge to his tone.

When she put her hand around his flaccid worm, Igul lost his bladder. She paid that no mind and severed his member with a quick flick of her wrist.

Igul screamed, his mouth wide open as he yelled until his air gave out, then took a great gasp and yelled again. Brenna dropped what she had taken from him into his mouth, and the sound of his agony was reduced to muffled gagging.

She turned and laid the blade on the table where she’d picked it up, then went to the bowl and washed her hands. When she was clean again, she dropped her sleeves.

Brenna turned to Leif. “Will you see this to its end?”

Leif tipped his head in a terse nod. “I will, Brenna. Shall I keep his head for a pike?” She had insisted that Åke and Viger’s heads be displayed at the docks.

She stared down at the suffering, dying man on the table. “No. He is not worthy. Cart him out to the woods to rot.”

At Leif’s agreement, Brenna came to Vali. Feeling more emotion than his chest could contain, he brushed his thumb over her cheek. So pale and thin, so bruised, and yet still so beautiful to him. His shieldmaiden. “Brenna.”

She laid her hand on his chest. “I knew you’d come. I knew our story was not ended.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her head. “And it never will be. I would like to find a place to be alone with you.” She stiffened, and Vali shoved back the fresh surge of rage at what she’d been subjected to. He bent his head and put his mouth to her ear. “Not for that. I would only hold you and talk with you. I have missed you, shieldmaiden.”

“Take the jarl’s quarters. They are yours now, Vali,” Leif said.

Surprised, Vali turned to Leif, forgetting that he didn’t trust him. “What?”

“You killed Åke,” Brenna answered. “You invaded and vanquished him. No one will challenge you for the seat. You are now jarl.”

Of course. But he didn’t want that. This was not his home. He was not a leader, not off the field of battle.

The sudden new direction of his turmoil must have been apparent on his face, because Leif smiled. “We can discuss such matters later. For now, be with your wife. You fought hard to rejoin her, and she fought hard to be waiting.”

Friend or not, Leif was right. Vali took his wife’s hand and led her out of that room of death.

Brenna let Vali lead her into and through the empty great hall. So rarely was it empty that its dark quiet seemed eerie and unfamiliar to her, even though it had been long since she had been a welcome presence in it.

When they crossed into the jarl’s private rooms, she stopped. Prevented by her hesitation from going any farther, Vali turned and squeezed her hand. “What is it?”

“Hilde? Turid? The children?”

Åke had had three wives, who among them had given him twelve children. His first wife, Torunn, had died birthing Ulv, the third son. After her death, he had taken Hilde to wife. When she gave him only daughters, he’d brought Turid into their bed.

Six of Åke’s children were grown. The three sons, Calder, Eivind, and Ulv, were off on the raid. None of the three had yet married. Hilde’s three oldest daughters had all been married away. At home still were six children—four daughters and two sons. The boys, Turid’s only issue, were the two youngest—one a babe still at the breast, not much older than Brenna and Vali’s son would have been, and the other just toddling.

The oldest of Hilde’s child daughters was eleven. When Brenna had first served Åke as thrall, she had become close to Hilde and her daughters. Saving their lives had freed her from that servitude—so she had thought at the time. She remained fond of them, even of the little ones she had never tended.

Now that Åke was dead, his family would have been killed as well. It was the way, but it hurt her heart nonetheless. She hoped it had been quick.

Brenna looked up at Vali. “What of his wives and the children?”

Vali cocked his head and then led her to a nearby chair. When she sat, he crouched before her and took her hands. “Åke sent them out of town, but they were stopped on the road and returned. We hold them in a house at the edge of town until we can decide what should be done. What would you do?”

“They have not been killed?”

“Is that what you would advise?”

Confused, she frowned. “The children are likely enemies. Their mothers would nourish that. That is our way.”

“No, Brenna. It was Åke’s way. He was brutal and impatient in all things. My jarl, Snorri, would have said that if we kill everyone who might someday be an enemy, there will be no one left alive to be a friend.”

“So, what then would you do?”

He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. “I would offer them sanctuary here and allow them to remain as freewomen to make their way.”

“Hilde is a proud woman. She will never be subject in the home she once ruled.”

He sighed. “Then I would offer them supplies and let them find a new home.”

“And if she and Turid sow hatred in the hearts of their children? There are already three strong sons who will soon come home to a Geitland greatly changed.”

“Calder and his brothers we will contend with when they return. We will be prepared in a way they cannot be. As for the hatred of a suckling babe, that is a concern for the future. Only a seer can know so far ahead.”

Remembering something Åke had said only a few days before, at the feast after the thing, Brenna chuckled.

Vali smiled in response. “What amuses you, my love?”

“Åke said something before the raiders left. He had been to the seer, who told him that he had the eye of the gods, and Geitland was about to enter into an era of greatness. He thought the prophesy meant that he had the gods’ blessing to do to me what he did. But he was wrong. Bringing me here was his ruin. And
you
are the jarl who will bring greatness to Geitland.”

Vali stiffened and stood. “I don’t want it, Brenna. This is not my home, and I am no leader. Estland is lost to us. I would return to Karlsa. That is my home. I would bring you there and become the farmer you would have me be.”

She stood, too, and took his hand again. “But you
are
a leader. Even here with me now, talking about Åke’s family. Your words, and your thoughts, are wise and true. Your actions are purposeful and righteous. You heed the counsel of those you trust. And people trust you. They admire you. They follow you. I think you are a great leader already.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want it. I want to go home.”

Brenna found herself charmed at how much her great, brave, strong husband sounded like a homesick boy. The thought that the little home they’d almost made for themselves in Estland was gone made her feel homesick, too. She had no other place she had ever wanted to be a home.

She certainly had no love for Geitland, where she had twice been a slave, and where she had been abused and abased. Karlsa was far north, farther than she had ever been, but she thought she could love a home that Vali loved. Perhaps his people would treat her as a woman, as he himself always had.

She had an idea. “Split the jarldom with Leif. Restore the territories—we will go north, and you will take Snorri’s seat in Karlsa. Leif can take Geitland. This is his home.”

Vali stalked away, almost to the luxurious bed, then stopped and turned back. “You trust him? After all of this?”

“I do. He is our friend. He saved us both.”

It was odd to be standing in this room, still appointed with the personal effects of Åke and his family. She found herself distracted by a piece of half-finished needlework resting on a chair not far from where Vali stood. Such an innocent, domestic thing on this day of violence and upheaval.

Vali’s focus was sharp, on the other hand. “No, Brenna. He betrayed us. He let us be overrun in Estland. He let you be taken. He let you be hurt!”

“Vali. What else should he have done?”

“He should have warned us. We could have fought Åke there. He should have
protected
you!” He slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand to punctuate his last sentence.

“He did.”

Her husband stalked back to her and cupped his hand around the side of her neck, his thumb brushing lightly over the skin her shackle had made raw. “No. He did not.”

She pulled his hand away and held it. “He made himself a shield between me and the worst Åke would have done to me. He made sure I could live and fight.”

“I want to know everything, Brenna. Everything that happened to you. I want to know it all.”

She had no intention to indulge his fruitless curiosity, and she had even less desire to relive their time apart. “No. You have seen the scars and wounds. That is enough.”

He flinched at that. “And nothing else?”

She knew what he was really asking. Even if he had not imagined it already, allowing him to see the way she had killed Igul would surely have put the thought in his head. “No. Nothing else. Igul tried, but he could not…temper his sword. When he tried something else, I threatened him, and he beat me instead. A fair trade.”

Rage still lit Vali’s eyes. “I cannot forgive Leif. It is because of him that Åke had you. I cannot forgive him, and I do not understand how you can yet call him friend.”

“I have known him long. He trained me in the ways of the warrior. I
know
him, Vali. He is our friend. Perhaps we would have made different choices, but his choices were made in love and loyalty. His choices put him at risk, as well.”

Vali glowered, and then shook his head again. “He is not my friend.”

With a sigh, Brenna gave up that approach. She stepped up to him and closed her arms around his waist. “But might he be your ally?”

He embraced her as well, gazing down into her eyes. Then he bent his head and pressed his lips to the bruised bump on her nose. “You trust him.”

The words didn’t have the lilt of a question, but she answered them anyway. “I do. With my life.”

“Then I will heed your counsel. If Leif will take the seat here, you and I will go to Karlsa and lead there together. We will be allies with him.” He curled his finger under her chin and held her head up. “But he is not my friend.”

It wasn’t true, but Brenna wouldn’t fight that losing battle. “I understand. I hope one day you can find forgiveness for him.”

He brushed his fingers over her throat again and shook his head.

~oOo~

“All of Åke’s lands are rightly yours, Vali. It was your axe that killed him. It is you and Brenna he most wronged.”

Vali only glared across the table at Leif. Before the three of them sat brimming cups of mead and a platter of meat and fruit that had made Brenna’s mouth flood when Vifrid had brought it out, but thus far only she had partaken of anything. The men vied tensely, silently, on either side of her.

They had already called Hilde and Turid in and offered them sanctuary in Geitland. Hilde had turned them down flat, with her chin held high. Turid looked surprised, and torn, but she dipped her head and deferred to Hilde. The women and their children would be given a horse and cart, a driver, and a week’s provisions. They would leave town at the dawn and find their own life.

“Vali,” Brenna said, prompting him to calm himself and speak. He glanced at her and then sat forward and finally took a drink from his horn cup.

“I do not want this seat. I want no part of it. I hate this place with all my heart. You have Brenna’s trust, and she has mine, so we offer this arrangement instead.”

“To split your land in twain would split your power as well. Are you sure you want this?”

“I have little interest in power. But what I have would be split only if you are not my ally. Are you not?”

Leif sighed and dropped his head as if it had suddenly become heavier than he could manage. When he looked up, he said. “I am, Vali. I am your friend and Brenna’s. Always will I be. I will accept this arrangement. Geitland and Karlsa will be allied as long as you wish it so. If you agree, we can have the rituals here, tomorrow, and you and your clansmen can be on your way north.”

Brenna cut in then, leaning in to put herself as much between the men as she could at the table. They couldn’t leave yet. “The raiders will return, three ships full, and Åke’s sons will find their father dead and their family displaced. Calder is much like Åke in his rashness and quick anger. You need the warriors of Karlsa to hold this town. You need us here until that battle is won.”

Leif turned to her. “You are the God’s-Eye, Brenna. Calder knows your import to his father, and he heard the prophesy. He will believe that Åke’s defeat is your doing—which is not far from true—and he will blame it on the power of your eye. You should be far from here when he returns.”

Brenna bristled. “You would suggest that I cannot fight him and win?”

“As you are now, after these weeks enslaved? I would say that you are not as strong as you should be. And I would say that you have fought long and hard enough, and Åke has caused you harm enough.” He turned to Vali. “This is my peace offering to you. Go, and take your wife away. If Geitland is to be mine, then I will hold it.”