“You gave it to Harald already didn’t you?” I ask. He smiles again through the pain of his broken face and thigh wound, shaking his head. I look at Shaw who is ready to kill him, but Bjorn has a point. How are we going to vouch for what we’ve done?
“You gave it to Jorvik?” I ask, trying every road to get the information we need. He laughs this time, blood spurting out and around the knife embedded in his leg.
“You’re fucking brother had it this whole time?” Shaw says to the both of us.
“No, as of this morning I made a deal,” Bjorn says to Shaw, and then slides his reddened, conniving eyes towards me. “He’d sell you to the King if he could be the Jarl. Now fucking kill me,” Bjorn finishes.
Shaw takes the knife out of his leg, ripping a piece of the bed sheet, and ties it around Bjorn’s thigh. Quickly making a loose knot, he breaks the wood off the handle of the massive axe on the floor and twists the bedsheet around it. Clamping the wound shut, Shaw cranks the wood until Bjorn screams, writhing on the floor in pain. The bleeding stops, and for better or worse, Bjorn will live to fuck up another day.
“You need to go to your room and lock yourself in,” Shaw says, and I protest, not waiting to leave him here. Shaw hits Bjorn over the head with the end of his previously unsheathed seax knife, and Bjorn slumps over, unconscious.
“I’ll admit to finding Katrine and Ingrid. I can say Bjorn tried toattack me, which is true,” I plead, not wanting him to suffer the consequences of the choices we both made.
“Rasha, Harald will know something isn’t right. You can tell Harald you knew the women never returned after the feast. That will help, but I need to bring this coward out in the open and put it to a vote. No clan leader or Viking man will stand for having their own women locked up and assaulted.”
“At least let me ask Jorvik about the map,” I reply, and he rubs his hands. I didn’t notice before, but he wears two iron bars over his knuckles. Taking the double rings off, he slips them into the pocket of his vest.
“Can I trust Jorvik to tell you the truth and not hurt you?”
“He’s a lot of things, but he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Stay in your room after.” Shaw comes to my side, his gaze stopping over my bruised lip and swollen chin.
“Alright,” I comply, taking his hand and pressing the palm into my lips. The rush of the fight still urges my body onward, but later I will crash. He pulls me close, letting his arms cocoon me like he did out on the ice. Breathing in the scent of embers, I wish I could count on him coming to my room tonight, but in light of what happened, I doubt he will.
“Promise me you’ll stay in even if it snows or if the women come to your door. Keep them with you instead of getting into trouble. I’ll see you at the Wild Hunt,” he murmurs into my hair. I have no recourse, so I agree. Letting him go, I open the door and leave the room of horrors.
15
SHAW
The urge to kill Bjorn is strong as I haul his unconscious body over my shoulder and down the stairs. The courtyard is full of Vikings. Joanna is in the forefront of the group with Katrine. Her strength is admirable, though it kills me to know I did nothing while the horrors of last night unfolded. Ingrid huddles under Enora’s arm as other women come to her aid, and the rest of the clans pile in to seek vengeance.
“Who is it, Shaw?” Leif, the woodworker from the archery competition, asks.
“Bjorn. He held two women from the feast against their will in his room with his friends. Go see the chains and the blood for yourself. He fought against me. Demand for a vote,” I grunt through my explanation as I walk through the courtyard toward the medicine room.
“Where are you taking him?” The shouts of Vikings from all four clans cascade over me. Giving Leif an urgent look, I see him walk behind me to tell the crowd.
“He’s taking him to see Siggy to get stitched up. Calm yourselves.” I hear shouting back and forth. A riot during Yule or any gathering of cold and frightened Vikings is not far-fetched, but thereis no way I’ll leave Rasha here alone for that type of battle. I don’t know what she has experienced in her life to know about men like Bjorn. The horrific thought that someone could have done to her what he did to the women sends me into a blind rage.
“Siggy!” I yell, but the little woman is already at her doorway.
“Come, come. What mess have you brought me?” she asks, standing back to allow me to toss Bjorn’s limp body on her work table.
“I stabbed him.”
She looks over his body, quickly gathering her bottles and jars of herbs while I tie his wrists to the table legs.
“What did he do to warrant you beating him within an inch of his life?”
“He kept two women chained in his room. Multiple men were there all night, Siggy. This is unacceptable behavior from a clan.” I pour hot water into a clean wooden bowl, and she closes the medicine room door.
“You broke his jaw, and his side is swollen like you ruptured an organ,” she mutters, waving me toward the hearth. “Bjorn is a troublemaker. I’ve already given treatment to a few women who came down here after being with him.”
“Will you speak that truth to Harald?” I ask, knowing I am asking a lot for an elderly woman who relies on this stronghold to keep her safe.
“And your new friend, Rasha? Is she hurt?” Siggy slides a glance my way while she keeps working on Bjorn’s leg.
