“That is fine. And if I find Jorvik before he meets Harald?” she asks the group.
“Tell him he has no place among our people,” Oslo firmly states. Katrine throws her arm over Joanna in an attempt to stifle her heartbreak, but Joanna wipes her eyes and walks out of the Hall alone.
“She’ll be okay. Jorvik was bound to fuck up,” Katrine adds. Oslo stays in the Hall to set up a table for accounting and hiding the precious, ancient scrolls Rasha’s clan keeps buried in a dirt cellar.
Outside the Hall, more people have gathered, men strapping weapons to their bodies and women preparing the land for an attack. They all quiet as we reach the middle of the road, as if they are waiting for Rasha to speak. Katrine beats me to the encouragement.
“Say something,” she whispers as Rasha’s blue eyes grow wide.
“I have no authority over them.”
“They don’t need authority. They need your resilience. My father is great and all, but he doesn’t know what it is like to live out there in the mountains. Harald doesn’t even know what it is to be hungry or to wait knee deep in the snow for one deer to walk by in three days. But you do.”
I find a place with Aslaug outside of the stables and prop our bags on the wall to give Rasha her own moment. It’s a strange thing to witness a woman have a tumultuous relationship with people who have both fed her and kept her decently safe, but who have also used her and left her for dead.
“Jorvik sold us out!” a few families holler, forming a group around Rasha as they wait for her to speak. The bond is pulled taut by her sudden upswing of nerves. Sending soft waves of reassurance to smooth over her fear is the best thing I can do while she gains her own confidence.
“I know. I am sorry. He sold me out too,” Rasha starts, her voice shaking.
“Will we kneel to a King?” another man takes the lead to ask.
“Not if I get to the herd and drive Harald away from our lands. Then you can all move into the pass for the Spring and Summer.” The crowd mutters between themselves, probably wondering if the risk is worth it. “If I leave now, I might be able to find Jorvik before he reaches Bjorn and Harald. We are taking three of our fastest riders.”
The two men and one woman that Oslo mentioned come around me, saddled and ready to go, leading our two reindeer.
“Thank you.” I keep my voice low and mount the reindeer beside the horses.
“When we hunt during the dead of winter, we stick together. We take turns sleeping and watching each other’s backs. I need all of you to stick together. I’ll be back, I promise,” Rasha calls while mounting her own reindeer. The group on horseback leads the way out of the Beaivi Clan with our reindeer trotting at an easy pace. Some reach up to hand Rasha or me wrapped loaves of bread and flasks for our journey.
Out of ear shot, I bring my reindeer close to hers, letting our legs bang together.
“I don’t know if you can come back once you’ve crossed over.” I can no longer lie to her. Keeping her gaze forward on the rounded curves of the antlers in front of us, she tightens her jaw without answering. “Rasha, I don’t want to lie to you. The group coming with us will have to go back in a day or two. They will need to relay what they’ve seen.”
“I know. But I will find a way to do both. Help you and help my people. I cannot let them kill Jorvik, even if he is wrong all the time. Vidarr traveled through the Vanheim, so why can’t I?”
“I am coming with you!” Joanna’s voice sends Rasha’s reindeer into a run, and she yanks the reins to bring the creature around.
“What are you doing?” Rasha yells, her face flush with the effort of controlling the reindeer.
“I can’t let you kill him. I love him.” Joanna’s solemn tears have dried up and been replaced with determination.
“I wasn’t going to kill him. Joanna, this is crazy.” Rasha moves her reindeer against Joanna’s horse.
“Katrine is better than me in every way at managing the clan. She doesn’t need me to stay. You, Shaw, are trouble.” Joanna steers her horse around my reindeer.
“I have done nothing but keep Rasha alive,” I reply. She’s upset and heartbroken, which I understand.
“You would sooner see Jorvik dead and Rasha lost to wherever she was when you arrived at our doorstep,” Joanna spits the furious words at me. Rasha’s bond ignites through my veins.
“Joanna! That is not fair!” Rasha yells, but Joanna is already moving her horse to the front of the group. The party greets her, but the solitary woman glances back to make a shocked face at Rasha. Shrugging it off, I keep us riding at a steep incline over swaths of melting snow and the sounds of rivers being brought back to life.
When the group stops to let the animals take a drink, I walk my reindeer over to where Rasha is scooping fresh ice water into herhands. The two women haven’t spoken since Joanna blasted past us. I bring my reindeer close to hers and slide off.
“Talk to her?” I ask, unaware of how female arguments work.
“She has her mind made up.” Rasha turns behind the reindeer’s large antlers to see Joanna fixing the straps on her horse’s saddle.
“Do you think Jorvik cares for her?” I try another route of conversation.
