by T S Florence
“You’re not as ready to leave the warrior lifestyle as you’d care to admit, are you?” Skald asked.
“I want to live a quiet life,” Freya said, though her shoulders were slumped as she walked back to the bed.
“You’re a valkyrie,” Skald said, grinning.
“I’m just Freya, I’ve told you that, and that’s how you’re treating me, so stop calling me valkyrie” Freya huffed.
“Very well, shield maiden,” Skald said, fighting a grin that was wrestling its way onto his face.
“Don’t call me that either,” Freya frowned at him.
“As you wish, bow kona,” he said.
“Skald.” Freya said, her voice wavering.
“Let’s go get some breakfast, girl,” Skald said.
“Ok, Skald the heartless,” Freya said, smiling a fake smile at him, as she walked past him, towards the door.
Skald rolled his eyes as walked behind her, poking her in the ribs as they walked down the stairs, causing her to giggle all the way down.
“You two lovebirds should still be up in ye room,” Campbell said, eyeing Freya as he spoke.
“Food is more important than fucking,” Freya said, not returning his gaze.
“Women cannae speak like that,” Campbell said, his voice low.
“We all do, you probably just don’t hear them talk about it around you,” Freya said.
Skald put his arm on her shoulder, fighting back a grin, as he led her to a table away from Campbell.
“Just Freya, and not a valkyrie, you say?” He whispered into her ear, as they sat down.
“That’s right, viking,” she said, smirking at him.
“If I were a betting man I’d put money on you killing a man before the week is ended,” he said, looking toward Campbell as he spoke.
“Without my bow? Unlikely,” Freya said, rolling her eyes.
“Tell me more about it,” Skald said, looking at Freya.
“Well, where do I start. Although my father was a farmer, he was also incredibly good with woodworking. He made and mended all his own tools, and he even built our house before I was born. He used the wood from the centre of a giant oak tree, a strip of light wood from the centre of the tree ran down the middle of the bow, which I would use to help with my aim. The bow was a little too big for me when I was younger, but I guess my father did that because he knew I would grow into it. I think half the reason I was so good at shooting was because the bow was like an extension of my own arm,” A yearning look was in Freya’s eyes, as she spoke of her bow like a lost friend.
“It sounds like your father made you an incredible gift,” Skald said, staring at her happy face, only to watch it drop at his reply.
“Yes, but Gregor broke it. He snapped it over his leg and threw it on the side of the muddy track, before he threw me over the back of his horse. I never saw it again after that,” Freya said, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
Logan and Lucas walked into the hall, talking in hushed tones, before they looked up to see Skald and Freya sitting at a table, by the far wall. Logan walked over to the pair, with intention in his steps.
“I see my brother has already started drinking his favourite wine for breakfast. I hope he’s not causing too much trouble,” Logan said, as he reached the table.
“We pay no attention,” Skald said.
“You’re a faster learner than I,” Logan said, glancing over at his brother, catching his eye.
“You would nae be talking about me would ye, little brother?” Campbell shouted from his spot at the table.
“Only good things, Campbell,” Logan said, turning back to Skald.
“A word, if you wouldn’t mind,” Logan said to Skald.
Freya
“You will be ok with Campbell there? I can take you back to our chambers if you’d like,” Skald suggested to Freya.
“I will not hide like a meek little rabbit from him,” Freya said, in her native tongue, careful not to offend the Sutherlands. “If you would lend me your bow I would like to take a walk in the gardens,” She said.
“Very well, but do not venture far from the castle walls,” Skald said.
“I survived quite alright before you came to my rescue,” Freya clipped.
Skald frowned at her as he handed her his bow with the quiver of arrows. “You’re in good spirits,” he drawled, sarcastically.
Freya didn’t say another word, but stomped out of the castle, frustrated at the fact that she was not included in the discussion with the Sutherlands. She was the one who had spoken with the Mackenzies in close confines, after all. They were foolish to think she would have nothing of value to offer them.
She walked through the gardens, observing the herbs and flowers, and enjoying the warm spring day. She suddenly realised the stark contrast to her days at the Mackenzie’s castle, where no good weather, well wishing or laughing children could bring color to her mood.
Something had shifted within her since the last week, even despite losing her bow. Or was it the bow that had caused her the pain, she wondered. Had the bow been the very thing that kept her from growing as a person, but rather, tied her to a painful childhood, where she relied on strength to succeed in a man’s world?
Thoughts plagued her mind as she lay down in the flowers, looking up at the clouds, appreciating the weather.
“You must be the the young viking girl,” A round old lady with frizzy red hair streaked with grey looked down at her.
Freya rolled onto her behind and stood up, to face the woman. “I’m Freya,” she said.
“I’m Miss Agnes, I do most of the things that a man cannae do round the castle,” She said, with a large smile, framed by a rosy face.
“So you must be the one I should be thanking for the lovely food I’ve been eating,” Freya said, in an attempt to charm the woman.
“Well now I know I cannae trust ye, if you think that slop is any good,” Miss Agnes said, laughing. “Come, lass, help me with the garden. My old back doesn’t take kindly to all the bending that’s required to gather all the food for dinner tonight,” She said, turning around.
Freya followed, her a smile slowly building on her face, as she attempted to understand all of the chatter that came from the woman’s mouth.
“Are ye ok with that scary fellow, Skald, is it?” She asked, turning serious, as Freya loaded potatoes into a basked.
“He’s a perfect gentleman,” Freya said, her face earnest.
“He scares me,” Miss Agnes said touching Freya’s arm.
“I think he scares most people,” Freya said, laughing.
“Aye, that does nae surprise me,” Miss Agnes said, laughing, before continuing, “so long as he’s treating you well in my castle,” she said, disregarding the fact that Logan was the Chieftain. “We women need to stick together,” she winked at her, conspiratorially.
“I agree, we do need to stick together,” Freya breathed, enjoying the female company.
A gruff voice sounded from near the edge of the garden “I hope ye not planning on poisoning the dinner,” Campbell stepped through the bushes, walking over to the two women.
“Leave the lass alone Campbell, ye old grouch. I asked her to help me. Fat chance I’d have of any of you lot helping poor old Miss Agnes with picking the vegetables for dinner,” Miss Agnes said, brushing off Campbell.
Freya felt a more sinister side to Campbell than Miss Agnes apparently did. The skin on the back of her neck began to tingle, and she felt the polished wood of the bow that was slung over her shoulder. Freya knew that she could have an arrow through his heart before he tried anything, but the thought of him attempting to do it was what made her skin crawl.
“You keep an eye on that one, Miss Agnes, ye ken she isn’t one of us,” Campbell growled, as he stomped away, back towards the gates of the castle.
“Is he always like this?” Freya asked, once he was out of ear shot.
“Aye, well, at least he’s drunk most of the time, and that�
�s when he acts out. He’s a fine fellow when he’s not had a skin full, but when he has, you’re best served to steer well clear of the man,” Miss Agnes said, speaking with a grave tone.
That night at dinner, Campbell was particularly drunk. Though he did not say anything more to Freya while Skald was by her side. Freya could see that even when the men vastly outnumbered Skald, they were still respectful and polite towards him. They were cautious with their words, for fear of angering him.
She felt she could almost see the aura of danger that surrounded him, due to his slow, calculated movements and his dark, penetrating gaze. The large black wolfskin on his back was a tribute to his ability to survive in the wild, and he wore it like a trophy around his shoulders, displaying his capability as a warrior, and the golden arm bands around his arm a signal to his prowess as a warrior.
Freya went to the kitchens to see Miss Agnes and found her bossing around younger castle maids, who were giggling and talking and bustling around the kitchen, carrying out the orders of the older head mistress.
“You could lead men to battle the way you can order people about,” Freya laughed as she watched Miss Agnes.
“I have more important things to do, such as feed the silly bastards and keep us women and children fed, too,” she said, smiling at Freya.
“Is there anything I can do?” Freya asked, wanting to get away from the men for a change.
“Aye, you could start serving those oat cakes onto these trays from the hearth over there, lassie,” Miss Agnes pointed to the large hearth, with sweet oat cakes baking around the edge of the fire.
“I can do that,” Freya smiled.
Freya stayed in the kitchen for the rest of the evening, until finally Skald came and found her laughing and drinking wine with the rest of the women.
“Looks like you’ve found some friends,” Skald said, with all eyes of the women immediately falling on him, as he entered the room.
The girls began to talk over one another in hushed voices, their hands close to their mouths, with big smiles, wide eyes, and glowing faces. Some of the older women looked at him with tightening faces, showing concern for Freya. She noticed the young women eyeing skald like a wild horse that needed to be tamed, and felt a pang of jealousy in her stomach.
“I have, they’ve been very kind,” Freya said, walking over to him and taking his hand in hers. Some of the girls’ faces dropped as they saw the sign of affection, realising that they were quite obviously more than travel companions.
“Are you ready for bed?” Skald asked, either oblivious to the eyes of the young women, or simply not caring.
“I might spend a little longer down here and meet you up there,” Freya said, smiling to him.
“I will come looking if you’re no up in thirty minutes,” he said with a nod.
Skald
Skald paced the room, back and forth as he waited for Freya to return. Despite knowing that the Sutherlands were generally good people, the entire situation left him not wanting to have Freya mixing with people she did not know well. He was pained enough by having to leave her during the day while he talked strategy with Lucas and Logan Campbell.
Finally, after the full thirty minutes were almost up, the heavy door creaked open, revealing Freya on the other side.
“Hello,” Freya said, looking at Skald.
“Hello?” Skald said, pausing mid-stride, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re pacing,” Freya said.
“Well, I do not like leaving you alone in the castle,” Skald moved to bolt the door behind her.
“I’m capable of defending myself,” Freya said, frowning at him.
“I know, I know,” Skald said.
“No, I really am. I was a valkyrie before you rescued me, you know,” Freya folded her arms, stepping closer.
“How much wine did you drink?” Skald moved his face closer to hers, looking at her red-stained lips.
“Only one or two glasses, maybe three, I’m not sure,” Freya said, her arms still folded.
“You’re drunk,” Skald said, his jaw hard, as he frowned at her.
“Excuse me, I am not drunk,” Freya said, her eyes narrowing at him.
“You should be more careful,” Skald said.
“I’m sorry, but you’re not my boss, and I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions,” Freya huffed.
“You’re in a mood, too,” Skald said.
“I am not in a mood,” Freya responded, walking over to the bed.
“If you say so, drunken shield maiden,” Skald said, as he took off his black wolfskin, earning him a glare.
He lay waiting in bed, as Freya clumsily attempted to take off her clothes.
“You know, those girls were all gawking at you when you walked into the kitchen earlier,” Freya said, as she changed into her night dress.
“They wouldn’t see vikings very often, we are a novelty for them,” Skald shrugged.
“It was more than that. They couldn’t stop whispering and giggling into each other’s ears when you walked in” Freya said, looking at him.
“Well, it’s a pity for them that my I am unavailable, whether I like it or not,” Skald said.
“What do you mean?” Freya frowned.
“My mother told me a story, once,” Skald said.
“Can you tell me,” Freya said, as she hiccuped.
Skald watched her naked body as she changed. Her pale breasts, in contrast with her pink nipples caused a stirring in his loins. The dark ringlets of hair that fell from above her ears down to neck pulled at his heart. Her pale cheeks, set in her serious expression, as she fought with her dress, evoked a warmth in his chest. The gaze she fixed on him, as she lifted her head, searching deep inside of him, set off a deep thunder in his soul.
“My mother told me that Odin, in all his wisdom, splits souls in two and sends them down to Earth.” Skald started, looking into Freya’s eyes, as he considered the meaning of the words that he was only now repeating out loud, after so many years.
“She said that Odin did this to give our lives purpose. If your soul can find its other half, then your heart will know true happiness. You must search, she said, for love is the greatest thing a man and woman can have in life, more than any amount of gold and glory.” Skald finished, letting the words carry their weight into his heart.
“That’s beautiful,” Freya said, crawling onto the bed, her cheeks flushed.
“You’re beautiful. You’re the only women I’ve ever found to be truly beautiful. I thought you were beautiful before I ever met you. I believe Odin pushed me towards you, for otherwise I was going to lose my soul to the depths of hell,” Skald said.
Freya crawled onto Skald, straddling him like she would a horse, and brought her face down to his neck, tasting him.
“I want you to take me. I want you to keep me,” Freya said.
26
Freya
Freya woke in a cold sweat from the same dreams that had haunted her since the slaughter of her men. Magnus the Mighty fell to the ground, and Skald, with his piercing gaze, pinned her to the spot where she stood; her legs would not take her to safety.
Skald reached her and put his hands on her shoulders, causing lightning to shoot through her body as she slept. The fighting around them seemed to fade away, and Skald, with a look of urgency on his face, pushed her backwards into the trees behind them.
Freya knew that this was the first time she had managed to move in that dream, but it was because of Skald. She still had not discussed these dreams with Skald; for they were just that, dreams. His spot in the bed next to her was empty, the sheets cold, telling her he’d been gone for a while.
After eating breakfast, she went out into the arena where the men were training. Skald was standing to the side, talking with Logan and Lucas; all three of them with serious expressions on their face.
“Today is the day you negotiate for Jack’s release,” Freya said, smiling to them.
Logan and L
ucas looked to Skald, whose jaw was set, his fists bunched together behind his back. He gave a curt nod.
“You will be negotiating for Jack’s release?” Freya asked, her hands on hips.
“We will be negotiating, but we cannot say for certain if it will be successful,” Skald said.
“He is my friend, Skald” Freya said, her voice rising.
