Chapter 12
Freydis
Harald walked toward us and stopped a few inches in front of me.
"You killed two Eastlanders and have insulted my wife," Harald said, turning to Lagertha. "And you disrespected me; fighting my brother in front of me without waiting for my judgment."
Lagertha frowned.
"The Eastlanders will be here soon, and it will be my responsibility to cover up what happened," he said. "What I need you two to do right now is apologize to each other."
"Apologize to her?" Ragnar scoffed, spitting blood.
"Aye. And do it right now. Both of you."
"And here I thought ye loved me as brother," Ragnar said.
"You son of a beast. You are no brother to my husband." Lagertha moved toward us, her feet slamming against the floor.
"Don't come any closer," I said, stepping in front of Ragnar defensively. I was ready to bite her again if it meant she would leave him alone.
"You!" Lagertha grabbed my dress and pulled me so close her hot breath stung my face.
"Alright! Get your hands off Freyja. She didn't do anything!" Ragnar yelled from the ground.
Lagertha stared at me in anger. She raised her hand to hit me but was pulled away by a warrior. She released me, and I took a step back.
"Alright now! Guards!" Harald yelled, and the warriors rushed forward. "See to it that he's locked in the dungeon."
Harald turned and ascended his throne, sitting down on the wooden chair. Lagertha was grinning at Ragnar as the guards pulled him away.
"And you, wife..." He turned to the other warriors. "Lock her up in her room."
"What? No! No!" Lagertha screamed as the warriors dragged her away. "Don't touch me! I'm the Queen! Take your hands off me!"
Her voice soon died down, and I turned to Harald, whose gaze was fixed on me.
"Consider yourself lucky that your husband hasn't heard what happened. Return to your room and prepare for their arrival."
I frowned and turned around, walking out of the hall. I went down to the dungeon to see Ragnar, but the warriors forbade me from entering. Just as I was walking back to my room, I saw Astrid hurrying past me with a bowl of water and a cloth soaked in blood.
"Astrid," I said, rushing to her, and she paused. "Ragnar… how is he?"
"The wounds aren't that deep. He'll survive."
"Thank God," I breathed in relief. "The guards wouldn't let me see him."
"There's no need to worry. He'll be fine soon."
I slowly nodded, and she walked away.
....
Drums echoed, marking the arrival of the Eastlanders. Tension filled the air as the men dismounted their horses.
There were about five of them; four men and one young woman. She was tall, with long dirty blonde hair and green eyes.
They introduced themselves. The woman was Tove, sister to the King. The three men were warriors who had escorted their King. When Harald asked why he hadn't brought more men, the King scoffed and said he could defend himself.
The King introduced himself to me. His name was Brok. He walked toward me until we were inches apart. The wrinkles and receding hairline told me he was much older than I was. Harald had lied, saying he was around my age. His dirty blonde hair was cut short, and he had thick, long beards with rings adorning them. He was nothing like Harald had described.
His skin was pale and rough with scars. The only appealing thing about him was the expensive cloak he wore. When he smiled, his crooked rotten teeth showed.
I tried to hold myself together. This was the man Harald was marrying me to. I would have to kiss that mouth one day. And he smelled foul, like goat shit. I wanted to tell him to make an effort to wash himself, but I held my tongue.
He smirked, staring at me with wild eyes. I held his gaze and tried to endure his stench. It was difficult.
I forced a smile onto my face and bowed my head slightly.
"I'm honoured to meet you at last, King Brok," I told him.
A cold smile appeared on his lips as he watched me bow.
"The honour is mine, my lady."
....
Then he turned to Harald, the cold smile fading from his face.
"I sent two of my men ahead of me during my journey here," he said. "Have they arrived yet? One is taller than the other. Bulky, with thick beards; Jòn and Halfdan."
I shivered as I stared at Brok. What if he found out the truth about what happened?
Harald didn't falter. He stood firm as he met the man's eyes.
"We saw no man by that description or name."
"Then you didn't see them," Brok said, his jaw clenched. He searched my father's face for any sign of deception, but Harald didn't waver.
"Not that I know of."
"Jòn is the King's cousin," one of the warriors spoke up.
"Unfortunately, our roads aren't in good condition; they're filled with Hounds. They could have been killed—"
"They can't be killed by Hounds. They're strong warriors," Brok cut in sharply.
Harald shook his head.
Brok stepped closer, this time sizing Harald up. "They told me they were going to send me a message when they arrived to make sure the road was clear. But I never received it."
"They could be anywhere," Harald replied calmly.
"No," Brok said, his voice cold. "And I will ask you again, Harald. Have you seen these men?"
"No."
Brok turned to me, then back to Harald. "I will speak to your daughter, then. To know if you speak the truth."
He stretched out his gloved hand to me, and I took it. Together, we walked away from the others. Fear settled in my chest. What if he sensed the truth in me? If he found out what really happened, he would no doubt kill me, especially since one of those men was his cousin.
"You know," he began, "I don't believe your father is telling the truth. Our lands have been rivals for many years. My brothers, whom I sent ahead of me, are now missing."
He paused and turned to face me. "But I trust you'll speak the truth. After all, you'll be my wife soon."
I nodded slowly.
"Did you see my brothers?" he asked.
I shook my head. "If we had received word that you were sending them ahead, we would've searched for them. We haven't seen any men of that description."
He smirked. "I'll take your word for now. But…"
He stepped closer. The stench of his body hit me again, and I couldn't hide the grimace that spread across my face.
"If I find out that you lied, and that you conspired with your father to kill my brothers, I'll cut out your tongue and use rune magic on you to ensure you bow only to me, and you'll suffer for the deaths of my brothers."
I'd heard stories about the use of rune magic, dark, old magic. In the past, one of the Jarls had cut out the tongue of a thrall witch and used runes on her. She could only speak to him, and he wore her tongue on a necklace around his neck. He controlled her with her tongue.
I shivered at his words. "I thought you no longer believed in the old gods, that you now worship Christ."
He smiled and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. "And who's to say I can't worship both?"