Bryn sidestepped once, then a second time, narrowly avoiding punches to the face. He had strength in his corner, while she capitalized on her speed and agility. The moment she tried to reach her shield, he shoulder-rushed her and took her off her feet again.
Gunnar’s heritage matched them evenly, with equal strength. Giant’s blood also flowed through his veins, as his mother had been a woman of the east. Each of his blows struck with true power that winded her. He socked her in the gut with his fist, with force she felt all the way to the back of her spine. She retaliated with an uppercut that crashed his teeth together. Blood spilled from his mouth and down his chin.
“I will kill you,” he muttered in a low voice.
“You will try.”
In the instant he struck, she crossed both forearms in front of her. Pain exploded midway between her right wrist and elbow.
Trading blows, they moved back and forth across the battleground. From the corner of her eye, she saw Frode toying with something under his robes that glowed jade green.
But she was not the only one to spy the snake in the grass.
“He uses witchcraft!” Sigurd shouted. Many eyes turned to Frode, and then one of the jarls on Gunnar’s side tackled him to the ground as Bryn headbutted Gunnar’s face. Before he could recover, she brought her knee into the king’s jewels.
For her babies, the infants he never mourned. Immediately, he doubled over in pain. Bryn used the opening to reclaim her shield as Gunnar rolled to his feet again. Blood stained his face and coagulated around his nose, dried on his chin and darkened the front of his armor. Still, he came at her again.
Chosen by Odin, she thought. I am Odin’s chosen. My place in Valhalla has already been earned.
And now, she would prove it. Even as Gunnar staggered to his feet, she charged him in a rush, striking harder than a runaway wagon hurtling downhill despite the man digging in his feet and bracing for her. They hit the ground together and rolled.
He’d taken so much.
He’d lied.
He’d misled her and their kingdom.
He’d devastated families and twisted their proud nation’s values, convincing her to do his evil will.
No more.
Finally, Bryn had the upper hand, bashing him in the face with her shield. His strong hands pushed her shoulders and found her neck. Despite the tension he applied, she hit him over and over, until he was sputtering and choking on his own blood. She pounded the shield into his face until his grip turned feeble.
Then she brought the edge down on his throat.
Silence hung over the courtyard, broken only by Gunnar’s dying gurgles, and even those faded after a moment.
“Behold your queen,” someone called, she couldn’t be sure who.
One by one, those around her knelt, lowering to one knee and bowing their heads.
“Long live the queen!” Sigurd called. He alone hadn’t bowed his head, and he met her gaze when she turned to look at him, pride and love shining in his blue eyes.
Later, Bryn would celebrate with her beloved. Now, nothing but the result of the honor battle mattered. Her shoulder ached and sweat stung her eyes, perspiration pouring down her brow. The lifeless meat on the ground no longer deserved her attention. Quietly, Bryn turned to Frode. She watched his eyes fill with terror.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” she asked softly.
“My queen,” the little man said, lowering to one knee. “I-I tried to advise my brother, to discourage him from this path. He would not listen to me. N-none of this is my fault. It is the sorcerer from Liang. Their emperor! He is to blame for this.”
“I’m sure,” she said, disbelieving every word.
“He forced Gunnar to do his will. His wicked spellcraft is to blame for this.”
“I suppose he made you try to call upon this bauble?” she asked, nodding her head toward the green jewel Ulfgar held in his hand. Swirls of magic shimmered within the jade stone.
“He did!” Frode licked his lips. “Please, you must believe me. I—”
“I am obligated to do nothing, little worm. This war is over. And I long ago grew tired of listening to your lies, Frode.” Brynhildr turned her back on him and walked away, uttering one final command loud enough for the sniveling coward to hear. “Take his head and toss him atop the pyre with his brother. He is worth nothing more.”
Brynhildr had yet to determine the fate of the drottin who aided Gunnar. She wanted to be a merciful queen, to begin her reign with compassion.
But she also knew she could never trust them. She would forever be watching her back, fearing an uprising or some other treacherous act.
Leaving the matter for another day—Sigurd and Lagertha remaining behind to take Ulfgar and his conspirators to their cells—Bryn made her way back through the broken walls where the jotun waited, silent spectators to her victory within. Thrym himself stood at their fore, bedecked in gleaming silver armor. Upon reaching him, she bowed.
“King Thrym, your arrival was most unexpected, but welcome.”
The jotun king towered above her more than he had during their previous meeting, leading her to wonder if the giants cloaked their true size. When she bowed, he did the same, only to lower to one knee and bring himself eye to eye with her. “I suspect so. Has the matter been handled then? Are my people avenged?”
“Gunnar is dead and Frode shall be soon. His lands and those of Jarl Ulfgar are yours, as promised. Northreach belongs to the jotuns once more. As for the rest… I still cannot give you my hand, King Thrym. My answer has not changed, but I do desire a lasting peace between our kingdoms.”
The frost giant observed her a silent moment, searching her face with eyes that seemed too gentle to match his large size. “No. I supposed it would not. And had you accepted, casting aside love and loyalty to the man who has already won your heart, you would have gained no respect from me, young queen. My people were betrayed once. I could not pledge my allegiance to a queen who would so quickly throw aside her own lover for power and glory.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “A test? Then…why let us leave believing you would not help us?”
“What manner of test could it be if you were so assured without allowing us the opportunity to witness your dedication? How could we judge the force of your spirit, or that you would die for the kingdom you claim to love and desire to protect, if we set your mind at ease from the start? No, Queen Brynhildr. No matter the tales of your strength and bravery, I could only judge with my own eyes.”
“So you’ve been watching since I left Jotunheim. I never realized…” She shook her head, but smiled, her pent-up breath releasing on a quiet laugh. “Thank you for showing your honor as well. I hope this means we can talk of peace.”
“My agents have watched, yes. And what they saw satisfied my desire to know you will be a good and just queen. One I will be proud to call a friend.” He rose to his feet again. “There is much to change in these lands. Your work will not be easy.”
“You’re right, but I believe I am up to the task.” She looked over her shoulder, spotting Sigurd waiting not far off, and then turned back to the giant king. “Will you join me as I greet the leaders from our neighboring kingdoms? I would see us all united in friendship once more, as things were meant to be.”