Somehow, in the last couple of weeks, I’d pushed Skarde to the back of my mind. The men hadn’t mentioned their conflict again, and I hoped it was one of those things that men fought about and then set aside as more pressing matters came up.
Now, however, I realized I was simply deluding myself. There was much more to this story than I knew, and I’d lived in blissful ignorance.
Until now.
Soren sat quietly, elbows on his knees, while observing me in the wake of the mess he’d made.
From the moment I met him, I knew he was the calculating one. I knew he was the one who pulled the strings. I told myself he was dangerous, to be careful with how I managed him.
I just didn’t realize he was such a vindictive asshole.
Brushing the tears from my cheeks, I turned my anger on the man who’d stirred up this trouble. “Why did you do that?”
Soren gazed at me with a serious, impassive face. “He deserved to know the truth.”
“He even said he didn’t WANT to know; that it didn’t matter, until you insisted on telling him.
Why would you go out of your way to hurt someone you call your brother?”
“Denying the truth protects no one. It is better for him to be hurt now, knowing the truth, than to be more wounded later when the truth eventually comes out.” His piercing green eyes dropped to his hands, and he added more softly, “The truth always comes out.”
Perhaps he didn’t expect me to ask. Or, perhaps, he didn’t think I’d pick up on it. But now it was my turn. “What is the truth that hurt you?”
The shrewd man’s piercing gaze rose to my face, scrutinizing me with an intensity that brought heat to my chest. He held my stare for several long, drawn-out moments, but I refused to back down.
As if I’d won the battle and earned an answer, Soren sighed and leaned back against the hay pile behind him. “I don’t want to kill Skarde just because of Leif’s brother, or Bjorn’s parents. I have my own issues with him, my own reasons to believe he’s an inscrutable jackass of a human being.”
“And those are…?” I prompted. That was not nearly an adequate answer. I needed more.
“For one, Skarde has held down every man in this village, preventing any of us from receiving recognition from the Jarl, gifts, land, you name it. Skarde is the leader of our village’s raiding party, so he is the one with the relationship with the Jarl. I don’t know how they did things where you came from, but with nearly fifty men in the team, there should be plenty to go around. Instead, he heaps praises on one man a year, never the same one, and gives the rest of us no credit. Men like Leif’s brother Troels, who last summer killed more warriors and collected more treasure than ten men. Skarde collected the treasure from him, presented the Jarl his share, and gave the recognition to his own brother.”
“But how does he get away with that? Surely if there are fifty viking raiders, they should be able to take him down and replace him with someone who would better distribute the recognition?”
“Skarde uses promises, threats, even murder to keep everyone in line. Everyone only gets one year of glory, so in theory, eventually everyone gets a turn in front of the Jarl. Troels’ death was a message to all of us: Try to go around me, and your wife will become a widow. Whenever someone grumbles, he is quick to squash it.”
I chewed over that information for a moment. “This is all terrible, but I still don’t see how this is a personal reason for you to want to kill him.”
Soren’s eyes narrowed for a moment, then he sighed. “Skarde stole my wife.”
“Stole your wife? How is that even possible?”
“When I was young—very young, barely older than Signe, I was in love with a girl. That girl is now Skarde’s wife.”
“Okay, I certainly understand why that would upset you, but how did he steal her?”
“We had a couple of years to wait before we could be married—I refused to marry before I had a home to give my bride—and an opportunity came up to earn a name and a spot with the Jarl.
All the young men in the village competed for the honor of accompanying the chieftain to Ravndal, and it came down to myself and Skarde.
“I won’t go into the details, but he cheated during our fight, and came out the winner. He received the honor, the audience with the Jarl, and eventually command of the raiding party. I told Dagny I wouldn’t marry until I had the home I promised her, and she didn’t want to wait. Skarde came sniffing around soon after, and it was done.”
My heart ached for him. Someone he loved had betrayed Soren. Of course he was closed off to strangers. Clearly, she hadn’t loved him if her head was so easily turned. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I understand the heartache you’ve suffered. But have you considered that perhaps you’re better off?”
“How could you say that?” He spat. “Skarde has everything that should be mine, and I have nothing.”
“Skarde has the wife you wanted, true. But if she so easily accepted him after she had promised herself to you, can you really argue that she loved you in the first place? And Skarde, holding onto his power by fear, is sure to see the end of it soon. I have seen more than one man taken down by his own hubris. It will come for him, eventually.
“It appears to me that Skarde has a wife who doesn’t love him; he seeks comfort from other women, so clearly he is unhappy. He clings desperately to an empty power he is soon to lose. You have two friends that you consider brothers, and from what I can see, a future of possibility. So I ask you again, might you be better off than he is, despite appearances at the moment?”
Soren’s bright eyes drifted to the side as he considered.
I waited patiently, feeling better for knowing more of the story. Finally, Soren returned his gaze to me, and the ghost of a smile curled his lips.
“Brenna, you have given me a gift. I certainly had not realized it before, but you are right. I feel an immense… relief now. Skarde still deserves to die for the other things, but I no longer need to mourn Dagny.”
“Speaking of other things,” I began, trying to be delicate, “Why does Bjorn believe Skarde killed his parents?”
“Bjorn’s father, Ulfe, despised Skarde. He hated that the entire village was at his mercy. He was building a ship in the barn, much as we’ve done. It used to be a much bigger barn, nearly large enough to fit a full-sized ship. Just like Bjorn, Ulfe had shortened it in his plans to ensure it fit inside the barn. Skarde got wind that Ulfe was building it and confronted him. Ulfe didn’t deny it. He refused to cower before Skarde.
“The next night, the barn mysteriously caught fire and both Ulfe and Bjorn’s mother, Sif, died in the fire. Skarde got the entire village to help rebuild the barn, but only if it was significantly smaller. He claimed it was because the barn was too large before and was a fire hazard. In my mind, he wanted to make sure we couldn’t build another ship here.”
I could see how they drew that conclusion. It certainly seemed likely that Skarde, if he was truly as unscrupulous and sneaky as Soren believed, could have been behind it.
I scrubbed my hands over my face. “This is a lot to take in. So, now that your ship is finished, what is your plan? How do you intend to displace Skarde?”
Soren scratched at his jaw, barely disturbing his neatly trimmed beard. “I know nothing about you, Brenna. Something in me wants to trust you, but I don’t know how I can. For all I know, Skarde sent you here to spy on us.”
That one hurt. “Surely not. If you believe Skarde burnt down the barn, and that he would do it again if he knew there was a ship here, then for you to believe I was some kind of spy for Skarde, you would have to expect the barn to be destroyed again already, or worse.”
Soren’s eyes twinkled, that hint of a grin playing on his lips again. “Fair enough, Brenna. I don’t believe you’re working for Skarde. But I also don’t know why you’re here.”
My pulse picked up. “I told you, my chieftain was making me do unscrupulous jobs for him, and holding me hostage to his whims. I ran away, but in the storm I got turned around and crashed my boat. I swam to shore and ended up here.”
“Where did you come ashore?”
My mind raced to answer—it was always best to give few details, keep things as vague as possible, and as simple as possible. “The shore in town.”
“That must have been quite a swim, with that heavy sword you carry.”
“I am a strong swimmer.”
“And your village? Is it nearby?”
“Honestly, I don’t even know where I am. I don’t know how far I traveled, only that it was more than a day. What is the name of this village?”
Soren continued scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Our town doesn’t really have a name. We just call it Porp. Is that name familiar to you?”
I searched my memory banks, but I didn’t remember that village name from my last stint as a viking raider. “Nope, it doesn’t.”
“What was your village called?”
“Bekkr.” I hoped it was as unfamiliar to him as his village was to me.
Soren just shrugged. “No, I’ve never heard of that one, either. Well, Brenna, whatever you went through in the past, I hope you’re able to get the new life you were hoping for here. There is plenty to go around, for those who earn it.” His last comment was pointed, and I glanced up at him curiously.
“Earn it how?”
He stood, brushing off his pants. “That’s up to everyone to figure out for themselves. I ought to go home. Perhaps I’ll see you tomorrow, if you’re still here.” With a nod, he descended the ladder from the loft and walked out of the barn without another word.
This conversation had certainly been a rollercoaster. First Soren outed me to Bjorn, as if deliberately trying to get rid of me. Then he filled me in on the history between the three men and Skarde, as well as some of his own personal history.
But just when I thought he was opening up to me, he reminded me I was a stranger he wouldn’t trust any further than he could throw me.
Soren was a puzzle; I just didn’t understand his motivation, or where his head was at. Did he like me or hate me? Did he trust me or not? I honestly had no idea. It seemed that just when I decided either way, he went the other direction.
Sighing, I stood and checked that my armor remained safely hidden before I descended the ladder.
Soren would have to remain a puzzle for now. I knew for certain Bjorn was upset, and right now, I needed to speak with him.
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