CHAPTER 1
Thora stalked into camp, seeing nothing but red until the object of her rage finally came into view. “You!” She pointed at Hagen with her sword. “I’ll have your head!”
She leapt across the short distance between the two of them and brought her sword down in the same motion Travers used to take out Galinn. Catching him completely off guard, Hagen had no time to react before her sword cleaved its way into his shoulder. She withdrew her sword with a grunt.
“What the hell?” Confusion etched into every feature on his face as he brought his hand up to the wound to staunch the flow of blood and fell to his knees. The pressure he applied barely slowed the bleeding, and Thora didn’t register anything except the satisfaction in knowing he’d be dead soon enough.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know why I did that. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out you betrayed us to the enemy?” The collective gasp that went up brought her out of the haze of rage enough to notice she’d attracted a crowd. “Galinn is dead because of you!” Her hands balled into fists at her side and she had to force herself not to launch into another attack.
Hagen at least had the decency to turn white, but Thora didn’t know if that was a result of the blood loss or at calling him out as the traitor he was. Either way, she didn’t care.
Harold and Njal came running up, drawn by the commotion and gathering crowd. When they saw what Thora had done, neither batted an eye. Harold crossed his arms over his chest.
“How many did we lose because of this traitor?” Harold eyed Hagen as hatred burned in his eyes. A confused murmur spread through the crowd.
“You… You all knew? This whole time?” Thora sneered at Hagen’s pathetic attempt to look horrified, but didn’t dignify him with an answer.
“Too many. I don’t have the full count yet. Galinn is gone, and I’ve yet to hear if Beri made it out with his army. It was a bloodbath.” Thora’s emotions were stuck between unrelenting heartbreak and rage, and she couldn’t seem to tip the scale in either direction for any length of time. She wanted to feel the rage more than the heartbreak. She’d had enough heartbreak in her life, and she never expected to lose Galinn so soon. She thought they had more time together. She shook her head at the thought and reached for her anger. She tried to hide from Galinn’s loss beneath the rage—at least until the heartbreak came crashing in on her again.
“Why did you do it?” Njal looked almost as if the answer mattered. To Thora, it didn’t. He betrayed them and cost many of their people their lives. His reasons didn’t matter.
Hagen sighed heavily as the effect of his blood loss weakened him. “Ask her about Ulf.”
Thora’s gaze snapped to Hagen’s face, but he hung his head and avoided her gaze. “Ulf? What about him?” She stared at the maned dragon tattoo that wrapped around the sides of his head. When she first saw the tattoo, she thought of it as another example of him not doing things in the traditional ways of the Norse. Looking at it now, with the way the dragon lacked any Norse style and how it sat above the typical Norse knotwork, she wondered if the tattoo was more of a statement of his attitude. Did he think he was above the traditional Norse ways?
Hagen spat blood from his mouth, pulling Thora from her thoughts. “He said you killed Odinkar in an unfair fight. That you attacked him as he slept. Then, you ruled your people like a tyrant, and demanded Ulf lie for you about Galinn because you wanted Galinn and didn’t care what your people thought about him.”
Thora threw her head back and laughed. “I wondered where that maggot ran off to.” She squatted down and put her face nose to nose with Hagen. “Understand this. Ulf lied to you—about everything. My guess is he did it hoping you’d get killed so he could take your position, if all this failed to kill me. That’s what he was after in my village. He was caught in his lies, and even then, I tried to reason with him. The man is a scheming coward who cannot do his own dirty work.”
“You lie.” He hissed.
Harold and Njal listened, keenly interested in the outcome of the discussion. Thora tried to think of a way to convince them of the truth, even if she couldn’t convince Hagen.
Bjorn pushed his way through the crowd, dragging a bound man behind him. “Thora doesn’t lie, and Ulf can tell you himself.” Bjorn threw a beaten Ulf down to his knees beside Thora.
Thora’s mouth fell open as she stood up. “Where…?” She was too stunned to form any more words.
“I found him lurking around Hagen’s tent.” Bjorn spat as if the words left a sour taste in his mouth.
She recovered from her shock and folded her arms over her chest. Ulf was her proof to Harold and Njal. At least something went right today. “I killed Odinkar by sneaking up on him while he slept?”
Ulf looked to Bjorn with a look of pure terror. Bjorn drew back his fist and landed it on Ulf’s jaw. “Don’t even think to continue with your lies.” Bjorn growled, shaking out his hand.
Ulf struggled back to his knees after the force of Bjorn’s blow knocked him over. “No. Everything I told you about Thora was a lie. I was hoping you would spoil the surprise and she’d get killed so I could go back to my village and put in my claim to be jarl.”
Thora raised an eyebrow as what little color Hagen had drained. “See? I don’t lie. You betrayed me for nothing. You cost Galinn and many others their lives for nothing. You’re dying now for that nothing.”
Hagen’s gaze shifted from Thora to the other jarls and back again. “I’m sorry.” He freed his axe from his belt and ran the blade across his neck. As his blood poured from the self-inflicted wound, Thora smiled. Her wound would have killed him, but slower. He was too much of a coward to face them any longer than he had to. He slumped over and closed his eyes. A few moments later, he was gone. Thora wished she could say she was satisfied with his death, but she wasn’t.
“What should we do about him?” Harold broke the silence and pointed at Ulf. “Seems only fitting that he be punished for what he did. After all, Hagen wouldn’t have done what he did, if not for the poison put in his head by this man.” He nudged Ulf with his boot.
“He has four sons, and their mother is dead.” Thora felt it was important for Harold and Njal to know that, but not because she hoped to save Ulf from the fate he deserved.
“He didn’t take leaving them fatherless into consideration when he made the choice to betray you, and us.” Njal stepped forward, sword in hand.
Ulf schooled his face into a blank expression, but Thora knew the fate of his children weighed heavily on him.
“They are welcome to return to my village. Their uncle is there with his family, and I’m sure they’d take the boys in.” Thora didn’t know if it was a wise decision to accept Ulf’s boys, but she couldn’t help but to make the offer. Her mind was on another orphaned boy who posed a potential threat to a previous jarl and that jarl sent him away. The thoughts brought a fresh wave of heartbreak that she struggled to push aside. She couldn’t sentence four innocent boys to a similar fate as what Odinkar sentenced Galinn to all those years ago. She’d be no better than Odinkar.
Ulf’s mask chipped as his bottom lip quivered. “That is more than I could ever have hoped to ask you for. Thank you.”
“I’m not doing it for you, Ulf. Your boys didn’t do anything to deserve being taken from the only home they’ve ever known. It was your choice to leave with them, but they do not have to abide by that choice any longer. If any of them become a problem later on, I will deal with it then.”
Harold motioned to Njal. “Will you, or should I?”
Njal spun his sword with a flourish as he stepped behind Ulf and pulled him up to his knees. “This one is mine.” Njal positioned the tip of his sword at the base of Ulf’s skull. “Any last words?”
Ulf shook his head, resignation to his fate written on his face.
Njal shrugged and then drove his sword through Ulf’s neck until it jutted out from the front. Ulf only grunted when Njal placed a booted foot on his back and pulled his sword out.
As Ulf’s body collapsed in a bloody, gurgling heap, Thora couldn’t help but feel sorry for how things turned out. She’d held onto the hope that Ulf would come around up until she realized he was a coward and he left the village. Even then, a small part of her, buried deep down, hoped he’d come to his senses and support her. He was a strong warrior, and she was sorry the choices he made brought him to this senseless end. It didn’t have to be that way, but he left her no choice.
She balled her fists and shook her head. Anger bound her stomach in a knot as she pushed aside the remaining pity she had for Ulf. Galinn was dead because of him. She turned her back on the bodies.
“Who will be jarl now that Hagen is dead?” She waited for someone from his town to step forward. Hagen had no children that she knew of, and should have named a successor.
A gray haired man stepped forward. “That would be me.”
Thora eyed him from top to bottom and lifted her chin. Though his hair gave away his older age, the man was in good fighting shape. “You’re Hagen’s successor?”
The man nodded. “He named me after he took the title from our previous jarl.”
“I’ll give you the choice to join our alliance, or to walk away. You’re free to choose either option.”
The man’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, I’ll join the alliance, and unlike my son, I won’t betray my allies.”
Thora’s head jerked back in shock as if the man struck her. “Hagen was your son? And you’d still join with us?”
He nodded and sighed heavily. “I’m Birger. When Hagen told me of his plan, I cautioned him against making a decision that carried such grave consequences based on the words of a man he hardly knew. He didn’t listen, but that was my son. It was his impetuousness that drove him to challenge the jarl, and I always knew his impetuousness would be the death of him.” He looked to all three jarls. “I hold no ill will for what happened to my son. He knew the risk he took in making the choices he made. If you’ll allow me to join with you, I assure you, I will earn your trust.”
Thora waited for Harold and Njal to respond, as she’d already said her piece. Both simply nodded their agreement.