The night ride to the temple was objectively peaceful—but the peace was misplaced, stifling in its solitude. Lanterns lit the way as they approached the town. The bugs were dead, most birds gone south.
Astrid arrived at the temple with the gut feeling that something was very wrong.
“I’ll run ahead,” Sigurd offered.
Astrid wished she could approach herself, that it was proper to do so. She watched from horseback as Sigurd rang the bell at the entrance and a priestess came to greet her with a furrow in her brow.
“Something is amiss,” Astrid said to Hrothgar. She dismounted the horse and led it by the reins to the entrance.
“We don’t know when,” said Esja, the head priestess. “One of the others heard her wake, but they thought she needed to relieve herself. Three priestesses heard the horse leave.”
Gone, then. Freya was already gone. Like Astrid, when she was caged, she would find her way out, one way or another.
Esja paled when she saw Astrid. “Your Majesty. Can I get you some tea?”
“Do you know where Freya may have gone?” Astrid asked.
“We do not know, Your Majesty. I apologize.”
Astrid’s heart twisted.
“She will be back soon, I’m sure,” said Hrothgar. “She is extremely competent, Your Majesty. She can care for herself.”
Despite her worry, Astrid recognized the truth in Hrothgar’s words.
“I tried my best to make her feel welcome,” said Esja. “I do not think she liked it here.”
“She didn’t,” said Astrid. “We will have to let her come back on her own.”
Astrid could give her that—time away, chosen on her own terms. She assured Esja she laid no blame upon the priestesses.
“I am sorry to keep you up and busy,” Astrid said to her félag.
“It’s what we are here for, Your Majesty,” said Hrothgar.
Gratitude swelled in Astrid’s chest. No matter how much she isolated herself, she was not alone.
The lanterns around the stable were fully lit when Astrid returned. A stable girl ran toward the main castle, stopped when she saw Astrid, and turned around and ran back.
Astrid allowed the staff to take her horse with her pulse racing. “Why are we so active tonight?”
“We had an unexpected visitor, Your Majesty,” the stable girl said.
“And who might that be?” she asked.
Shrouded in shadow, Tassi stepped forth from one of the stalls. “I’m the visitor.” He bore deep bags under his eyes, and his clothing was soiled with dirt and sweat.
“I thought you left,” Astrid said. “Did something happen?”
The assassin, she thought. Oh, stars, the assassin.
“Is Guthmar well?” she asked, voice rising.
“For now, he is, yes,” said Tassi. “He has Skarde’s old guard. They do not like him, but they will defend him.” He cleared his throat. “He is kinder to them than Skarde was.”
Astrid touched Freya’s dagger under her cloak. “What’s happened, Tassi?”
“I have kept something from you,” Tassi said. “I wasn’t sure it was worth sharing, but now I think it is important. It’s about—”
