“Give it here, boy,” he growls and steps chest to chest with my secret lover. Narve isn’t small, but he is dwarfed by the towering warrior before him.
Narve looks up, defiant.
“I sold it,” he lies.
“Fool, no one in their right mind would buy a stolen seax,” the warrior says with trembling rage. “I grow tired of these games. What a shameful band.”
Narve’s courage is impressive. He’s risking it all to protect a thief, without even knowing who it is. His lies can only lead to one thing. Death. His courage, commendable as it is, is fool’s courage.
The warrior raises his sword.
“I will kill you where you stand. I will kill everyone unless?—”
“It was me!” I shout, stepping forward.
Resounding silence. Even the warrior freezes, sword suspended midair. It would be a comic scene if I weren’t in mortal danger. Seconds pass. Understanding ripples through the camp. Our women whisper—they finally understand where my coin is coming from. I am a simple trickster. A burglar with no honor. A thief.
The warrior howls in laughter. His soldiers join in.
“You?” He sheathes his sword as he approaches me. “A little girl, stealing a warrior’s seax?” He leans over, arms on his knees. Like I’m a child. So condescending. Gone is the man who treats his wife like a velvet-clad southern queen.
“I stole it. Picked your bolt,” I say, lowering my eyes.
My father lurches to his feet, startling the warrior into drawing again. His soldiers tense, ready to strike.
“It was…” Father hiccups. “It was me,” he says, swaying. “Not my daughter.”
The warrior laughs, sheathing his sword. His men relax.
“That would be something.” He pushes my father backward. Father crumbles under the shove, weak as old bark. He looks broken. I run forward and lie over him. Even if he is the shame of the group, he is still my father. An image flashes in my mind—sunlight, splashing water, laughter. When Father was healthy, before Mother died.
“No, this man lies like the rest,” says the warrior, pointing at me. “But you. It’s like I’ve seen you before, yes.” He looks into the air. “Yes, I saw you, around the house. Keeping a safe distance. My wife mentioned a girl loitering about.”
I stand, squaring my shoulders between him and my father. Damn it all, let Odin decide my fate. I made a choice. I made a mistake. I should have followed my gut. Now I will pay the price for my greed.
“I stole your seax,” I say.
“Give it to me then.”
I open my dress, pushing aside my undergarments. All eyes are on me. My cheeks flush as the warrior’s men cheer, watching me reach into my clothes. Some whistle.Dogs. How cocky had I been? Thinking the night belonged to me. That I belonged to the night. It all feels so distant now. A childish dream. Reality settles in as I pull out the blade.
Freya protect me.
CHAPTER 5
Chained. A slave. Yanked after a horse. The shackle around my neck gnaws on my skin like a dog on its bone. Horse dung and dust coat my throat with every breath. My body might fall apart, shatter. It’s been a long march.
The early hours, a new dawn, a time I love—it feels like a funeral procession. Birds waking, trees stretching their lazy branches, sunlight banishing the doubts of night. I notice none of it now. The fresh morning air feels stale in my lungs.
Defiant, I hold my head high, ignoring the men’s comments and jokes.
“Let me have her, Asbjorn,” says one on foot.
“You already have problems keeping your wife,” laughs another.
They took me. My folk stood silent, shocked by my theft. My darkest nightmare had come true. I am exiled. Unable to return.Hated. Even worse, I am property. I ownnothing. I haveno one. I can be bartered and traded like the loot I have stolen. Tears well up in my eyes, but I don’t wipe them. I let them fall in silence. They will not see me as weak.
“She has not only stolen from Asbjorn,” says a horse rider dramatically. “She has also stolen my heart.”
