Gyna sat beside Yngvar as she chopped vegetables into stew. Her face was flushed red from the work. A breeze blew across the open ground where they set up tents. Beyond the walls stretched miles of grassland dotted with trees. Clouds hung low over the horizon, but nothing moved upon them yet.
"How are things going with Runa?" Gyna asked.
Yngvar shrugged. "She has not spoken of me or my family to anyone. But she does ask about my mother often. I think she misses her friend."
Gyna nodded. "I'm sure she does. Still, there might be something else at play. You're thinking too hard about it. What if she just doesn't want to get involved? She's got enough problems of her own."
"But why wouldn't she speak of our families? Surely she knows who my parents were."
"Maybe she does," Gyna said, stirring the pot. "And maybe she doesn't care. Maybe she thinks you'll find your answers soon enough. Don't worry so much, lad. We've done everything right. Now all we have to do is wait."
***
Runa sat on the edge of her bedroll, staring straight ahead. Her eyes focused through the window opening onto the night sky. Stars shone brightly above like distant candles lit for a celebration that had ended ages ago. Yet they burned bright in memory of better days past.
Her mind wandered back to happier times when she and Toki shared each other's warmth. He was always warm toward her, though he was still married to Audhild. In those days, he had been kinder to her than now. Perhaps he felt guilty for taking advantage of her innocence. Whatever the reason, he treated her more kindly before they wed. Then he abandoned her. And after that, he never spoke one word to her. Not even when Audhild beat him bloody.
That was a year after Thor Haklang died. Everyone knew the gods favored his son, and thus hated his wife. So Audhild went mad. For weeks she screamed and raved. Eventually her wits returned, but only because she could hear the voices of the gods speaking directly to her.
At first, she thought she heard Thor himself telling her to kill herself. At last, she realized it was Hakon. Who else would dare tell her such a thing? Of course he would choose that moment to return home. After all, he was supposed to die in battle with Erik Bloodaxe. Instead, his ship sank beneath him. No doubt he blamed Audhild for sending him to his death.
Audhild then demanded revenge against Hakon's murderer. She claimed to know exactly where he lived. She believed he must have fled to Norway, which meant he had come here.
It took time for Audhild to gather allies. The Danes proved useless, since their king had recently allied with King Harald Finehair. Their warriors were needed elsewhere. Thus, Audhild turned to the Norwegians. It was easy to persuade the local jarls. Alliances shifted easily once an enemy appeared close at hand.
For months, Audhild searched. She gathered every available man willing to march southward. Finally, she found Hakon living among the Norsemen. His name alone struck fear throughout the land. Those who heard it trembled, believing he had risen from the grave. Audhild swore vengeance on this false god.
Then came the day she finally killed him. She lured him out of hiding with promises of wealth beyond imagining. Once he arrived at her hall, she sent guards inside with swords drawn. The fool believed he had won free gold and glory. He walked forward without a weapon, unarmed except for the two servants waiting outside.
He wore no mail nor helmet. As he approached, he looked young and handsome. No one could imagine what terrible fate awaited him within the walls of Audhild's hall. That is how she planned it.
Yet when he entered the hall, he saw only women dressed in silks and jewels. They laughed together as they played board games. One woman stood apart watching the others. When Hakon stepped closer, she smiled at him.
The instant he laid eyes on Audhild, he forgot the game boards and laughing friends. This was his true enemy. The one who had haunted his dreams these years. Before he could shout warning, she plunged her dagger into his heart.
When everyone understood what happened, the men fell silent. Only the groans of the dying filled the space between them. Women covered their mouths and wept. None dared say anything until the silence became unbearable.
"You did well today, Jarl Sigurd," Audhild said. "Your loyalty will not go unrewarded."
Sigurd swallowed hard, unable to look away from the corpse at his feet. "My lord?"
She pointed to the body. "Hakon has joined Odin already. You can take whatever treasure you wish from his remains."
His throat tightened with grief. He stared down at the lifeless face. A lock of golden hair clung to its brow. The sight made his gut twist into knots.
"I don't want any part of that…that creature!" Sigurd shouted. Men jumped back, startled by his outburst. "I just wanted to be sure I got my reward! Why should anyone care about that monster anyway? Wasn't he your husband's friend?"
"They are both dead," Audhild snapped.
"So why do we need to keep digging up graves looking for his bones and dragging them around?"
"We're doing it so people remember us! Do you understand nothing? We fight our enemies to ensure they cannot rise again. If Hakon lives forever, then we lose everything. But if he dies like other men, then maybe someday someone will find his resting place and think fondly of us. Then there might even come a time when some new generation learns of our deeds and honors us for being brave enough to stand against evil."
Sigurd shook his head. "But Hakon isn't really dead. How can that be possible?"
"It doesn't matter whether or not he truly rests in Helheimr. What matters is that after Hakon died, his spirit left his body. That means he still exists somewhere in Midgard. And now that he knows where to find me, he'll seek revenge on me for killing him. So I've decided we must move Hakon far away before he returns. Otherwise, all my efforts to save the kingdom will have been wasted."
"Where are you going to hide him?" asked another warrior standing nearby.
"That's none of your concern," Audhild replied sharply. Her voice softened slightly when she added more gently, "If you want to earn the right to marry my daughter, then help me bury this poor soul properly."
***
Grim finished cleaning himself off in the stream. He used his hands to scoop water over his arms and legs, washing away sweat and grime. Then he dried himself using handfuls of grass.
As soon as he felt clean, Grim grabbed the spear and shield leaning against the tree. It took several tries to pull the weapon from the ground because the earth was wet and soft. By the end, however, he managed to drag the shaft across the clearing.
After replacing the weapons beside the fire pit, he settled down next to Bekan. Both boys were quiet but alert.