Beyond a Darkened Shore(76)

I shook my head. “Then if you won’t find a way to undo it, I will.”

He laughed. “If anyone could change the fate of the gods, it’s you.”

I frowned—I knew he was trying to put me off. “Are you afraid changing your fate would mean you’d lose the strength you’ve been given?”

“I’m saying I didn’t enter into such a pact lightly, and I know the Valkyrie won’t suddenly change their minds or decide to be merciful.”

It felt as if he’d reached inside my chest and grabbed hold of my heart. “So you’re going to die. There’s nothing to be done about it. You’re just a lamb led to slaughter.”

He snorted. “We’re all going to die. I could’ve died at any point in this quest so far—there are no guarantees.”

“But if you survived until the end, if you finally succeeded in killing Fenris, then you’d still let yourself be killed by the Valkyrie.” I knew I was pushing him; I knew he wanted me to drop it, but I just couldn’t. I wanted to hear all the terrible details, even as it felt like nails hammered in my chest with each word.

His eyes met mine, and for just a brief moment, I saw it: the fear. It hurt me worse than imagining my own helplessness in his coming execution. But then he grinned. “I never said I wouldn’t put up a fight.” I let out a rush of breath, and he gave my hand a squeeze. “Enough of this. Come with me. I have something I want to show you.”

His smile was infectious, and I tried to push aside my worry, at least for now. He led me to the ship that was his, where it sat, graceful, long and narrow in the water. He helped me on board, and as the ship gently swayed beneath my feet, he led me to the stern. Two tarpaulins had been rigged so that a small piece of the ship was afforded some privacy; one cut off the stern from the rest of the ship while the other blocked the sun overhead.

I gave him a questioning look, and he answered by pulling aside the tarp. Spread out over the ship’s planks were soft furs, a trunk, and even a chamber pot. Tears of surprise and relief stung my eyes.

“For you, my queen,” he said with only the barest hint of a teasing smile. “It’s my hope that you’ll be at least a little more comfortable than the rest of us—protected from the sun, and most of the wind and rain.”

I felt my heart soften at his gesture. “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.” I meant it.

His answering smile was wide. “I wanted to make this journey bearable for you. There’s nothing like being on a ship in the open water,” he said, pride lighting his face as he looked out at his ship. “Nothing like that rush of feeling when the waves threaten to topple you, but the ship glides atop them—nothing save a battle.”

“I still don’t understand how you Northmen navigate these seas. What if we lose our way?”

Leif snorted. “I have never lost my way. I use the sun and stars to guide me.” His face tipped up to the sky, and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he nodded as if confirming something for himself. “The winds are favorable today, which means we’ll make good time.”

“How long until we reach Skien?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“We won’t be sailing straight into Skien,” Leif said, and I glanced up at him sharply. “We’ll be sailing to Bymbil, my homeland.”

“And what of Skien?”

He grinned. “You have become bloodthirsty.” He gestured toward the knarr, which had already begun to sink lower in the water with the weight of all on board. “You didn’t think I would deliver such prizes to Fenris, did you? These are treasures to profit my own village. Now that I have the army I set out for, my father will call upon every freeman who owes him a favor, and we’ll sail for Skien with an army far greater in number than Fenris has ever seen.”

His plan was a sound one, but a faint shadow seemed to pass over me, warning that no battle goes as planned. “We may win this yet,” I said, arguing with the shadowy feeling that had sneaked over me. I refused to fail this quest. “So how long will it take to sail to Bymbil?”

“Only a fortnight if the winds favor us.”

So long! Nausea churned within my belly as though I was already being tossed around by the waves. Could this narrow ship even survive rough water?

“Have you ever sailed through a thunderstorm?” I asked suddenly.

“The North Sea is rife with storms, but this ship has always weathered them. I’ll deliver you safely to the north, Ciara. You have nothing to fear.”

I nodded, my attention shifting to the men who were hanging brightly painted shields on the sides of the ship for storage. An impressive cache of weapons had already been stored under loose planks, but Leif and I continued to carry our own swords.

“Which ship will carry my army?” I asked. They stood as still as statues upon the quay, neither fidgeting nor shifting their weight.

“As one of our greatest assets, we should distribute them evenly on each ship.”

I knew this was in case the ship holding them sank, and I was once again struck by my fear of open water. “That is a sound plan, but what of Sleipnir?”

“The knarr is the only ship big enough for him, and I’ll be sure there is plenty of livestock—should his . . . appetite return.”