Chapter 17
Freydis
The gods granted me a small favour when I reached the prayer hall—there was no one there. It was a blessing. I didn't want to receive stares and pity from people.
Each step sent a burning sting down my spine where the cane had touched. My dress clung to my back; it was soaked with sweat and blood.
I stared at all the statues of the gods. My eyes fell on Bjorn, the King of gods.
Kneeling before the statues, I looked at every single god. My lips trembled.
"Would ye hate me too?" I asked, not expecting a response. The gods looked back at me with wooden eyes.
My jaw clenched. "I didn't commit a sin. Cousins marry. Why is it different for me? Why does everyone act like I brought ruin to the house?"
Slowly lowering my head, I pressed my forehead to the cold floor. "If any gods hear me—Bjorn, Freyja, Vidar—I beg you, punish me if that is what I deserve."
I sat down, breathing in the silence. Just then, the door opened, and I turned my head to see the King walk in.
He approached me, standing just a few inches behind.
"You shame me, Freydis, and I will never forget what happened."
I turned to him, furious.
"You fucked Ragnar in the brothel," he said. "I was told by the trader, and now everyone in Fellur knows what happened."
I stared at him in silence.
"Talk to me, Freydis!" he yelled. "Tell me what happened between the both of you at the brothel."
"You already know."
"I still want to hear it from you."
I took a deep breath and stood up, slowly turning to him.
"He took me out the other night," I said, "during the burial of the warriors."
His jaw clenched.
"He took me to the brothel."
"Did he force himself on you?"
"No."
"Were you drunk?" he asked.
"No, Father!"
"Then what happened?"
"I only drank one horn of ale, but I swear by the gods I wasn't drunk, and neither was he," I said, reaching toward the King. But he stepped back. "Where is he now?"
"Still in the dungeon," he seethed. "Tell me what happened."
"He kissed me there," I said. "And I loved the feel of his lips. I didn't want it to stop, but it was getting very late and we needed to return home. Nothing happened. It was last night that it happened..."
The King turned his head away from me. He ran his fingers through his hair.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Thank the gods for the beauty they gave you."
I frowned.
"Thank them, because had it not been for your fair face, Geir would have refused to marry you."
"What?!"
"Geir's father, Vegard, agreed that his son would marry you," he said. "Your mother was wise enough to send words to him the moment she heard what happened between you and Ragnar."
My hands curled into fists as I stared at my father. I knew Geir—the son of a king. His father was the King's brother.
The last time I saw Geir, I was nine, and he was sixteen. I was only a little girl, and my first enemy was Geir. He and his father came to our house during one summers.
I had a thrall as a friend who knew how to fight with an axe. I asked him that day to train with me. Geir just happened to be strolling with his guards. I thought he looked too soft, like a doll, not a Viking prince.
Geir approached us, demanding why a thrall was training to fight with me, and whether he was planning to kill everyone in the house one day.
I told Geir it was me who asked Arne to train with me, but Geir told me to shut up. He approached Arne and challenged him to fight. Arne was hesitant, but Geir pushed him to it. When Arne cut him with his axe, Geir dropped his sword and started crying like a princess. The guards seized Arne and took him away to be judged. They killed him. His pot-bellied father demanded that the thrall be executed. My parents said nothing—because Arne was a thrall.
I cried in my room. As if that wasn't enough, Geir later killed my pet rabbit and cornered me in my room, saying I would make a pretty good wife one day. He said he'd scar my face to make me less pretty, and make me obedient—like a cow meant for breeding.
His father, Vegard, was no different. He once killed thirty thralls to appease the gods after a poor harvest. He drowns his wives when they displease him and even trained his son to hit his mother.
"I will not marry him," I seethed.
"You will do what your mother and I decide for you," he said.
"No."
"You think you have a choice here after what you did? You're lucky anyone still wants to wife you."
"That's because he wants the throne."
"And Ragnar is any better?" Harald asked. "You think he doesn't want Fellur too?"
"He's a monster."
"And what are you? A disgrace? You shame me and your mother. What were you thinking? That you could climb on top of a man like a whore and still walk around?"
I flinched. "I am not a whore."
"Then what do you call it? Do you know what the people say behind my back now? That my daughter spreads her legs for her uncle while the warriors were being buried?"
"I did no such thing you are accusing me of with Ragnar that night."
"You ruined any alliance I could have formed with other kings. The son of Vegard is the only option for you," he said, turning around and walking away.
"I will not marry him!"
"You will marry Geir, Freydis. Or may the gods help me, Frey, I will strip you of your title and you'll be nothing but a kitchen thrall."
With that, he walked away.