God's Eye (The Northwomen Sagas #1)

by Susan Fanetti

  Erik stood and came to him, but Vali waved off his help. He needed to appear stronger than he was—as strong as he should be.

  “Vali,” Calder called, seeing him. “Friend. It is good to see you on your feet so soon.” His expression belied the sentiment his words had expressed. Calder, too, understood that Vali was Snorri’s strong right arm in this raid, and no doubt knew why he would fight so hard to be present now.

  “Calder. I am sorry I could not join you in battle yesterday. I hear we had a great victory.” The pain had turned his body to iron, but he fought hard to make his voice steady and strong.

  Not missing the way Vali had stressed the word we, Calder lifted an eyebrow. “Yes. And now we discuss the future. Come and talk with us.”

  Erik had vacated a crate when he’d stood and come over, and now Vali gratefully made his way there. If he’d had to stand, or worse, sit on the ground, he might not have made it. Easing himself down to the slatted wooden surface was challenge enough. “What about the future?”

  “We have beaten this Prince Vladimir and all who owe him fealty. His lands are ours. As leader of this raid, I claim this territory in the name of my father. We will settle here.”

  “This is not your father’s raid alone, Calder. Half the men sitting here raid for Jarl Snorri Thorsson. The spoils will be split among us all. But none of us here is a settler, and we have no supplies to make it so.”

  “We need no supplies, Vali.” Calder made his contempt writhe around the word. “If you had fought with us, you would have seen. We have a castle full of riches and all the land and resources we could want.”

  Erik stepped forward. “You think a prince has no friends who would avenge him? We lost many in this raid. We could not hold off a foe who was well prepared for us.”

  Calder turned and scowled at Erik, but then Leif, Calder’s closest friend and advisor, stood. “They speak true, my friend. It is not so easy as to hang our shields at the door. But summer is near its end. The Estland winter is as harsh as our own. That will keep them at bay and give us time to work out these differences and make a plan for a settlement. We should return to the jarl.” He looked out at the group. “Both jarls.”

  After a long look at his friend, Calder nodded. “Well enough. But we cannot abandon this holding. Who will volunteer to hold the castle during the winter?”

  Vali stood immediately, clenching his teeth to keep from shouting with pain—and saw that Brenna had stood as well. Several other men and the one other remaining shieldmaiden also stood. Vali had stood for three reasons that had come to his mind at once: because he needed to assert a strong claim for Snorri, and because he knew the voyage home would be torturous and possibly fatal for him, and because, unlike many of his fellows, he had no one waiting for him at home.

  That Brenna had also stood made a fourth compelling reason. The most compelling reason.

  Calder’s attention went directly to his shieldmaiden. “Brenna God’s-Eye? No. You are needed.”

  Vali saw him meet her eyes, then shift his focus slightly downward. What must it be like to live with no one willing to look directly at you?

  She shook her head. “We are invaders, and he was a prince. You need strong fighters to keep this holding, even in winter. And I would be away at home in any regard. Here I can do good. Here is where I best serve your father.”

  It was the most Vali had heard her speak at one time.

  Leif, still standing, put his hand on Calder’s shoulder. “I will stay as well. This is where my son Einar, the last of my family, achieved Valhalla. I will stay.”

  To Vali’s watchful eye, Calder seemed to have deflated. He was a great warrior and the son of a storied jarl. He likely had been groomed for his whole life to lead, but he had not expected to lose his closest advisor and his pet shieldmaiden to his plan. He stared at Leif, then looked out over the rest of the raiders, clearly trying to formulate a response that would right his course.

  Vali scanned the group as well and saw that those who’d stood, thirty or so, were fairly evenly divided in their fealty. He had been paying attention to Calder and Brenna, and had not noticed the way the other volunteers had announced themselves, but he would not have been surprised to know that there had been a kind of intention in the even divide.

  Erik had not volunteered, and Vali would have objected if he had. Erik had a woman and three small children at home.

  But Orm had volunteered. Orm was a strong warrior despite his advancing age. Vali and he were not close friends, but they were loyal comrades.

  At last, Calder said, “Very well. Leif will have charge of the castle. We will ride there today and bring all the spoils we can back to the ships. Those of us headed home will bring this great news and much treasure to our people, and we will return at the new summer’s dawn.” He clasped Leif’s arm. “Thank you, my friend. My brother.”

  Calder walked off, and with that, the group dispersed. Sven came up to Vali.

  “You got what you wanted, fool. Now back to bed with you.”

  “I should ride to the castle. It should not be Calder’s people only.”

  “Orm rides with them. And others. You would die if you tried, and how will that help anyone?” Sven pulled him toward the tent he had grown to hate.

  But in truth, he couldn’t say he would be sorry to lie down. Pain had become a beat at the base of his skull.

  ~oOo~

  He was just settled, again on his stomach, when Brenna came into the tent. He was the only patient left who’d survived but was not yet completely free of the need for care. Sven glanced at her and then turned and gave Vali a smirk. Without even devising a pretext, he left the tent.

  The captive woman had been put to work elsewhere. Vali and Brenna were alone.

  “Why would you stay?” she asked, standing in the middle of the tent and glaring down at him.

  He rolled to his side, stifling the groan that wanted to be made. “You think I could survive a voyage on the sea?”

  “How will you survive the ride to the castle?”

  “The ships won’t depart for a day or two more. I’ll be stronger. And a few hours’ journey on horseback cannot compare to a few days’ journey by sea.” He met her eyes and held out his hand. “Brenna, come.”

  She didn’t move. Not even her eyes. He made it his mission in that moment to hold her eyes as long as she held his. She should be seen. She deserved to be seen.

  “Brenna.”

  “You’re not strong enough to fight. You won’t be a help here.”

  He’d be the judge of that. The proud part of him wanted to be offended by her assertion, but he smiled and let patience quash pride. There was likely a reason other than her lack of faith in his ability that had prompted her to say such a thing. “I will be by the time a fight might come. Why are you angry with me?”

  Her aggressive posture faltered, and she dropped her eyes—for a moment only, and when she looked back up, his eyes were right where she’d left them. Her surprise in that was clear. “I do not understand you.”

  She turned and left, and Vali dropped to his stomach with a sigh full of relief for his back and frustration for his heart in equal measure.

  ~oOo~

  Two days it took to move the treasure from the castle. Every raider who had died in battle and every raider who’d chosen to stay the winter in Estland meant that much more weight could be carried back, and Calder used every spare ounce.

  Vali leaned on the spear that had become his walking stick and watched more precious metal and stone than he’d ever seen in his life move through the camp to the shore. Even without the land, this raid would have been immortalized in the stories. Calder’s name would resound across all of Scandinavia.

  It was true, and Vali wondered what it would do to the alliance when Calder took the acclaim meant for them all.

  He turned and watched Brenna, helping strike a tent. The day before, she had taken a chance to wash thoroughly and re-braid her hair. She was so clean
that he thought she must have stripped to her skin, or near that far. He wondered if she’d stood in the waterfall, as he had that first day. His loins ached at the thought. Oh, to behold her like that.

  For six months, at least, he had her. More time than that, probably—perhaps nearly a year. No matter what happened to the alliance at home, here in Estland, they would be isolated until winter broke. They would be their own alliance.

  He would make it so.

  ~oOo~

  For at least the tenth time since they’d embarked on the journey to the castle, Brenna, who’d been riding at the fore, abreast with Leif, slowed her big golden steed and pulled up alongside Vali.

  “We should stop and rest. You’re pale.”

  “We should ride on. I am well.” He was not well; in fact, he wasn’t sure he would survive the ride after all. He could feel blood seeping down his back, and the pain was exquisite. But the truth was that he would not be able to regain his mount if he succumbed to the temptation to dismount and rest. He’d barely made the saddle in the first place.

  “Vali, don’t be foolish.”

  He’d grown weary of being called a fool. “If I need a nurse, I could do better than you, I think,” he snapped, regretting it instantly.

  Her expression closed. With a terse nod, she kicked her horse and trotted forward, leaving him to his sour thoughts and hot pain.

  ~oOo~

  “Gods, woman! If you’re trying to kill me, I will see you join me!”

  The captive jumped at his roar, weak though it was. “Excuse. Please excuse. Finished now.”

  He grunted and lay back down. He’d made it to the castle, a monstrous heap of stone. He’d managed to dismount and then to use his own legs to enter a barren, cold space where the floor was still stained with blood.

  After that, a black, blank void in his mind, and then he’d woken here, in this cold room, lying face-down on a soft bed, with the woman who’d been helping Sven sticking needles into his back. Again.

  “You can’t kill her. Olga is the only one who speaks both tongues.”

  The laughing voice behind him was Leif’s, and Vali went on his guard—for all the good that could do him, helpless as he was. Again. Where was Brenna?

  “Leif.”

  “Vali. I come to make sure you are well. We need you, my friend.” He walked around the bed to the side Vali could see and then crouched down so that they were eye to eye. “We are allies here. Allies and equals. No leader among us. Be well. There is much to do here.”

  Vali nodded, and Leif patted his arm and stood. As he went to the door, Vali, unable to stop himself, called out, “Brenna. I would like to see her.”

  At the edge of his vision, Leif stopped and turned back. “May I offer you some advice?”

  Vali didn’t want advice from anyone, but he was curious what Leif might say, so he remained still, neither encouraging nor rejecting further comment.

  “The God’s-Eye is special to Jarl Åke. He sees her as a gift from the gods. She saved his family. He attributes his success and power to her fealty and says often that Odin himself sits where she does. He will sing her praises when the bounty from this raid is known. You take on more than the Eye of the Allfather if you get close to her. You are sworn to Jarl Snorri, and Åke will do anything to keep her.”

  Leif’s words made Vali wonder if Brenna had been more than a slave and then a shieldmaiden to Jarl Åke. A jealous ember flared in his belly at the thought of that old man lying with her, but he sought to tamp it down. By his guess, she had near twenty years; she had had seven or eight years when she’d saved him in the woods, and eleven years had passed since then. She had been a shieldmaiden of note for several of those.

  Even with the fearful reverence with which she was treated, men were men, and she was beautiful—and a woman with needs of her own. It was folly to believe that no one before him had sought to taste the fruits of her body—especially not the jarl to whom she was beholden, one who was known to have fathered many bastard children, in addition to his twelve heirs.

  Of course Åke had had her.

  The ember flared hotter, and he only stared. There was nothing he wanted to say; Leif had said nothing he hadn’t known already, and now he had to contend with his helplessness while the image of Åke grunting over the treasure that was Brenna took over his mind.

  Finally, without another word, Leif turned and left.

  ~oOo~

  Vali woke later and found her sitting at his side, staring out the tall, narrow window in the stone wall. “Brenna.” His throat was dry, and her name came out a croak.

  Without answering him, she stood and walked out of his field of vision. Then he heard the sound of pouring liquid, and she returned with a golden cup. She slid her hand under his head and helped him drink. Then she sat again in the chair, setting the cup on a table near the bed.

  “Olga said you are ‘strong like bear’ and have not yet succeeded in killing yourself.”

  She had tried to affect the captive’s accent—she’d made a joke, though she hadn’t smiled. Vali laughed as much in delight at her attempt as he did at the humor in it. Then he grunted as the laugh shook parts that had been shaken enough for a goodly while.

  Tired of feeling helpless, tired of feeling frustrated, Vali decided there was little to lose in full speech. Never mind patience and stealth. “Brenna. You feel it, too, this pull between us.”

  When she moved to stand, he shot his arm out and grabbed her knee. The pain mattered not at all compared to the need he felt to make something happen. Unable to chase her, he would have to hold her. “Run from me no more. I want to be with you. If you don’t feel as I do, then say it.”

  Her stunning eyes went wide and dark as their black centers flared open. He held them with his own. “I don’t understand you,” she whispered.

  That was hardly a rejection, not with his challenge in the air between them.

  He smiled and released her knee. “So you say. Here I lie, open to you. Let me help you understand.”

  Brenna hated the castle. The stone walls and floors held the cold no matter how large a fire was built, and the many rooms and heavy doors isolated each person from the others, and blocked out the world, as if they’d all been imprisoned. Though she had lived a life without friends or even true companions, she had only been alone when she’d sought it out—and then, she’d been surrounded by the world.

  Here, in these stark stone cells, she felt more alone than ever she had before. The ceilings were tall and the rooms vast, yet she felt hemmed in, so much so that she woke gasping most nights, when she could sleep at all, clutching her chest as if the walls had fallen in on her.

  The low wooden halls and houses of home, filled with people and animals, were warm and snug. No one was ever really alone in a longhouse.

  As had become usual in the few weeks of their residence here, long before dawn, Brenna gave up the fight to rest in her tapestry-covered dungeon. She pulled her sleeping shift—an item of clothing she’d found, along with many others, in a heavy chest in one of the rooms—over her head and dropped it on her pillows. Then she bound her breasts and dressed in leather breeches and a heavy woolen tunic. The unyielding and bone-deep cold of winter hadn’t arrived yet, but nights had lately begun to greet the morning with a kiss of frost.

  After she pulled her boots on, she worked her tangled mass of blonde waves into one thick, simple braid, snug against her scalp, then trailing down her back. Before she left the room, she picked up her belt and slid the scabbard of her shortsword from it, leaving her dirk as her only weapon. She would need no greater protection. After an early fight that had resulted in the deaths of all of the prince’s remaining soldiers and of two more of their own, these weeks had been quiet, and she didn’t mean to leave the castle grounds. She needed only to see the sky, to feel the air.

  Before she lifted the heavy iron handle that would release the hasp and let her pull the door open, she picked up a fur throw and settled it over her s
houlders. Once in the corridor, she moved quietly, but even the sound of her breath seemed to echo off the stone walls. Stealth was nearly impossible in a place like this, with massive doors creaking open on iron hinges and stone surfaces returning even the softest sounds.

  Along the corridor and down the sweeping, dark stairs she went, completely alone all the way. An enormous edifice, the castle had housed only the prince, his small family, and their servants. When the raiders had combed through it, collecting the treasure, they had come upon room after room that had been richly appointed but obviously unused.