“Untie me then, and I’ll do what you ask with dignity,” I say, and Harald brings me close to him. The heat of the fire is replaced with a hollow chill. He unties my hands, and I rub my sore arms before holding them out to accept the bow.
Harald keeps the knife pressed against my ribcage. “Go on.”
The bow is heavy in my arms, like the weight of my whole life sits in this moment. I lit this Yule log over a week ago, and I asked the gods to help me. I have used every available moment to offer myself to Skadi in hopes that her bow and the power inside it will help me lead our clan away from Harald and the King. I have no choice but to believe Shaw when he said I will be protected. Dropping the bow into the flames, I hear a few women stifle a cry, and the men from our clan exchange displeased glances.
“Skadi is a whore!” Harald shouts, and I stumble backward, feeling lightheaded without the bow in my arms.
“Skadi is whore!” the men who follow Harald’s every word shout the phrase, attempting to gain unity amongst the clans.
“Harald that’s enough,” Jorvik says, turning to give me a look of pity.
“You’re right, Jorvik, we need to end this with a marriage,” Harald replies, and I see a chance to run. Taking off through the ceremonial circle, I find women who are standing so incredibly still it forces me to stop.
“No, no, little Rasha, not unless you want them to die,” Harald chides, walking over to where I pace around the edge of the circle. All of my friends have slender knives to their throats.Outnumbered.
“Sacrifice me. I won’t marry you. Not in a thousand years. So sacrifice me to the gods and be rid of me.” I press my lips together, still tasting Shaw on my flesh. He’s the only one who knows about the bow, the real bow, underneath the ice, and he came into my life with a lynx from across the Vanheim. He didn’t have to explain it. Where else did Aslaug come from? He might have run away to savehis reindeer herd, but he promised I’d be protected. He’s never failed me.
“Do you accept me as your sacrifice?” I scream, opening my arms wide to the circle.
“No, Rasha. Don’t do this.” Joanna elbows her captor in the balls, and he doubles over enough that she runs to me, intertwining her hand in mine. I know she’ll offer herself right along with me. No one bothers to chase her. We are now trapped in the circle with Harald and Jorvik.
“I killed Axsel. I rescued my friends. Yes, Bjorn and I fought. So offer my life to the gods, and all of this will be forgiven. Jarl Harald can go to the King a cleansed man without the stain of a heathen woman.” Whirling on Harald, I refuse to give up.
“All those in favor?” Harald asks the crowd, and more people than I want to admit cheer for my demise. My heart lurches in the dangerous game I started. What if I can’t fake my own death? There are too many factors to think about, and I don’t have time to change my mind.
Shouts and chants blur together, along with the popping flames eating the bow in the Yule log. Suddenly, an older woman breaks through the ranks of burly Viking men and scared women. She bangs her walking stick on the ground, emphasizing her presence. Due to her elderly nature, the crowd once again quiets.
“Siggy? What do you have to say?” Harald asks, having a neutral level of respect for the medicine woman. The memory of the first time I met Shaw crashes through my senses, seeing him laying on the cot and the way his face was horribly bruised. His helpfulness and lack of judgment made it easy to open up to a stranger.
Clearing her throat, she speaks to everyone. “In the years long past, there was always a couple sacrificed on the solstice. Their bodies were chained to a longboat and set ablaze on the fjord. Jarl Harald, you are being punished by the gods for not keeping to the true ritual.”
“But, Siggy,” he whines, and I squeeze Joanna’s hand.
“Sacrificing Rasha will bring back the balance I saw in my runes when I channeled the Seidr,” she explains.
“And you expect me to die with her?” Harald asks, starting to sweat his choices.
“I will die with her,” Shaw speaks, walking through the crowd. Gutted at his request, I hoped he’d save me and not give up our lives so easily. Unless his faith in the fates is stronger than mine?
“The blacksmith?” Harald questions, looking between both of us, as if to say how disappointed he is. “No, just Rasha will die. Tie him up.” Harald’s words send the ceremonial circle into complete chaos.
18
SHAW
Due to my distrust in Harald, I don’t join the ceremonial circle immediately. Instead I threw my things in my sled and found a longhouse roof to watch from. I had an arrow pointed at Harald’s heart, and when he punched her in the stomach, I almost ended his life. Then she offered herself as a sacrifice, and I had a better idea.
The malice coursing through my veins drove me to make Harald watch her choose me instead of him. So I slid off the roof, and not coincidentally, into Siggy. Siggy was on her way to stop the shattering of the sacred rituals of Yule, and we quickly came up a plan, but I didn’t expect Harald to not let me die with her.
Now we are fucked.
“Harald!” I yell across the crowd, but he’s taking her away, through the snowy village roads to the gates. His men pummel me before I can reach her. Too many men throw punches and grab my limbs, making it impossible.
“Are you insane?” Jorvik asks, landing a decent punch to my jaw. Given the way this played out, maybe I deserve this from him.
“You could have stopped him from beating her at any time. You told him about the map when she asked you not to. You didn’t carethat she didn’t want to marry Harald. Don’t fucking come for me now,” I gurgle at the little shit as he hits me again.
“Make him watch,” Jorvik instructs, and they haul my sorry ass down the road too.
