2 book of the series
Irvina was always a religious woman. So far North, people believed more than down South. Every one of her decisions was first at least twice consulted with her Seeress. So when the lost raven-haired woman sailed to her shores, i...
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Irvina breathed through her nose. Her body involuntarily shivered. It was cold but still less than in Trondheim. Her grip tightened onto her sword as she gazed intently on the gate ahead of her. She definitely wasn't ready to emerge from the woods on Bjorn's command. His plan was barely full proof.
"No one close to you will die." Sigrún's voice echoed inside her head. Why did she doubt her prophecy? Her head turned to Halfdan. The man looked regal his axe twisting in his hand. Her legs wobbled at his sculpted features. She could hardly believe that she wanted him again. Her attention was drawn back to the gate at the defeating sound of a horn. They knew they were there.
Bjorn whistled, and goosebumps crept over her arms. She was nervous. Irvina was not the best warrior. That was one of the reasons why Gorm stood behind her ready to save her. The guttural voice echoed again, "Nothing will go wrong. Everything will go as planned."
The words calmed her enough to concentrate on the arrows. She hoisted up her sword. Her mind could barely comprehend that she was leaving people to die. She heard the howls from behind her, and then she felt people pushing her forward. Ivar told them that they were repeating the same mistake as when they attacked him. She agreed, but Bjorn was unyielding. Once she felt the pushing from her soldiers get worse, she started running. The shield kept hitting her thighs with force, but she kept going. Her gaze settled on Harald on the rampart. Rage filled her, and she felt it bottle over.
She threw her shield away stepping onto the ladder. The heavy thing was only slowing her down. Before she could move up, something latched onto her shirt. She stumbled back, hitting the chest behind her with force. The arrows flew past her face and she exhaled in relief. Turning around, she gazed at Gorm with a grateful look. He nodded at her before throwing his axe straight at the shooter. He fell over the wall ax hanging from his nose. Exhaling through her nose, she rushed up the ladder. Her sword cut through the man trying to push her down. Gaze disoriented she searched over the people while swiping around her.
She made eye contact with Harald, his confused stare angering her even more. How dare he not recognize her after what he did to her family. She started running, not caring who she pushed out of the way. The yells around her made everything slow down. Her breath coming in short pants until the echo of a horn ringed through the air. They were retreating. She knew the plan wouldn't work, but Harald before her with his crown made her seethe. People started jumping over, trying to save their lives. Irvina looked down then back over to the man haunting her dreams.
"This plan will fail, but ours will be victorious. You will hold his crown while the lines of Fate tear him apart." The voice made her eyes focus. Her hands latched onto the railing nails digging in. It was not her time to die. Still, the heigh down made her unsure.
"Ahh," painful cry left her lips as the pain seared through her. The force of the arrow pushed her over, and she flailed through the air. Her legs buckled with the impact. Knees hurting, she stumbled forward, barely picking herself up. An arm came around her, and without looking she knew who it was. The man charged her with electricity with just one look. She hissed in pain as he hoisted her up. Her vision blurred, and before she knew it, she was in the main tent.
Sigrún pulled the arrow without hesitance. "Careful!" Halfdan reminded her Volva. Sigrún scoffed, raising a brow. Just now, Irvina noticed the solemn silence in the room. Her mind was jumbled. What happened? She could hear the loud cries from outside. Her breath came out in pants.
Her gaze settled on Ronja first the woman was covered in blood, her hand settled protectively over Ivar's arm. The man held eye contact and glided his bloody fingers over his face. Feeling disturbed, she turned towards Gunnhild. She turned towards her, but the woman wasn't in her designed space. Bjorn had his face in his hands, fingers digging into his shaved scalp. Her eyes searched over Halfdan's face, searching for answers. The man's lips turned down more than usual.
Shoulder bleeding and the whole hand painfully pulsing, she finally understood. Her angry gaze settled on Sigrún. She pushed herself on her feet, vision blurring but she still charged forward. Her hand wrapped around Sigrún's shoulder. Irvina knew the attention was on her since she disturbed the silence.
"You told me no one close to me will die," she seethed. The Volva regarded her with a calm look. Her black eyes staring into hers.
"The child wasn't close to you." Irvina breathed through her nose. Her left hand was gripping her wrist ached. She needed the wound wrapped. Irvina growled angrily, hand releasing her strangling grip. Her eyes settled on Ronja who tilted her head.
The small woman stood up, "You knew." Ronja angrily charged across the room, her hand digging into her bleeding shoulder. She growled in pain. "You knew we would lose and didn't tell us" —her finger dug painfully into her wound— "people died. Gunnhild's child died. Mine could've died!"
Irvina twisted her body, freeing herself from the grip. Her wound was now gaping. The guilt was clawing at her, but the anger was stronger. Her eyes searched over the tent she saw how her men pulled their weapons out, ready to take actions. She calmly pushed Gorm's sword down.
"Your failure has been foreseen. It didn't matter if I told you" —Irvina straightened her back ignoring the searing pain— "don't you forget you are alive because of me. You are here because of me, you are getting a chance to take your kingdom back because of my army! In fact Ronja, you are no one now, your man is no one. And the man over there is a man who lost his kingdom."
She stepped around the woman stunned to silence, "Now it's going to go my way. Remember your place!" With her staring dead in the eye with everyone, she marched out. She could hear people following her.
Outside the tent, she breathed through her nose. Now the guilt was gnawing at her stomach. She saw Ubbe sitting at the hill, staring probably into nothingness. The man lacked purpose. She ignored him, walking into her already set up tent. Her hands settled onto her table. Her knee was painfully hurting, her shoulder painfully bleeding, she was angry, guilty, and more importantly hungry.
"Let me clean your wound!" She sat on her bed, angrily. Her fists clenched into fists as Sigrún cleaned the wound. "It's not too deep." Sigrún tried to distract her by talking.
"You shouldn't have said that." She scowled.
"Keep quiet, or I might as well finish strangling you." Sigrún laughed her hand patting her knee as if she felt her pain.
Sigrún pushed her hair aside, hands cupping her face. "When you're angry, you make impulsive decisions." All Irvina could do was wave her off.
The Queen stood up, pulling her armor off. She didn't want to face the world, "Proceed as planned. Call the meeting."
