Chapter 11

Chapter 11

When we arrived back at the estate, Erik was waiting at the entrance of the house.

He breathed in relief at the sight of us. "How is she?" he asked Knut.

"She's good. Found her in the woods," Knut said. "Almost got attacked by a yellow-eyed hound."

Erik gritted his teeth and took a step backward. "Come inside."

Knut walked in, taking the other stairs, and I was left with Erik. He exhaled sharply, running his fingers through his hair.

"Why did you try to escape?" he asked in a soft voice.

I had expected him to scold or whip me as other masters did to their slaves. But his voice was gentle.

"Why did you think I wouldn't escape?" I asked.

"Freydis—"

"I don't want to be your slave."

"You are not my slave," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then what am I? I wear an apron every day and—"

"Would it please you if I said you are my guest?"

I breathed out cold from my mouth.

"Freydis, you would have been torn apart if Knut hadn't gotten to you in time."

I quickly bowed my head, realizing I had been speaking to him offensively. What if I got punished?

But he didn't sound like he was about to. He looked so calm.

"I apologize for trying to escape, Jarl Erik."

"You are not a slave in this house," he said.

"Then why can't I leave?"

Silence stretched between us, then he muttered, "Return to your chamber."

My heart stumbled, and I climbed the stairs, taking my anger with me. Upon reaching the chamber, I found Aslaug asleep in bed.

I slid under the covers, hardly feeling the softness of the sheets. My eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. I listened to the fire crackle and burn.

The blood trees. The hound in the woods.

Maybe I should stop trying to escape because it doesn't seem safe outside.

When I closed my eyes, sleep claimed me instantly.

I woke up sometime later, having been chased by a hound in my dream. I'd ask Erik about the blood trees and the hound later. Or maybe I wouldn't be able to because the more I thought about it, the more I remembered the slaughter of my people.

Again, I didn't take the time to work, as Aslaug told me to wear something different and meet Erik in the garden for breakfast.

I quickly dressed and went downstairs to see Erik seated in the garden, surrounded by different dishes. He was dressed in a long black coat and black boots. His hair was brushed backward, and he looked so beautiful with the morning sun casting over his face.

For a moment, the weight on my shoulders melted. I breathed in the morning air and approached Erik.

In the distance, I heard the clash of swords. Knut was having a sword fight with a guard.

"Good morning," Erik said as I closed in.

"Sit," he said, wiping his mouth with a small handkerchief.

I lowered myself onto the bench, my eyes spreading over the various foods on the table. There was freshly baked bread, smoked fish, and a steaming bowl of porridge.

Erik grabbed the horn and poured me some mead. "Drink."

I took a sip, then moved on to the bread. I tore off a piece and ate. The bread tasted of ginger.

Silence filled the air around us as we ate for some time.

After a moment, Erik spoke up. "In a few days, there will be a celebration in this estate."

"That's wonderful," I said, chewing on a piece of bread. "What is the celebration about?"

"It's tradition for us here to always celebrate each full moon," he said. "There will be feasting, competitions, and lots of things."

I never knew some people celebrated the moon goddess. She wasn't that popular in the gods' time. But she was known for creating the first hound. Sometimes I hated her for bringing destruction to the people. Because even though the time of the gods had passed and all the gods were dead, there were still hounds.

Hounds that infested the woods and killed so many of our warriors. Though I hated her for it, she was among the gods still served in the shrine.

There were rumours that if you refused to serve her, she would turn you into a hound on the night of the full moon.

Hearing Erik talk about how much she was celebrated confused me. Why would anyone do such a thing after hearing what she had brought upon the world?

"Why would anyone celebrate her?" I asked.

"It's tradition here," he replied. "And, I want you to remain in your chamber that night."

"Why?" My grip tightened on the horn.

"I do not want you involved."

"Why do you care so much about my safety?"

He turned his gaze to his food as if the question had never been asked.

I sighed and drank the mead in my horn.

After we finished eating, I stood up, and Erik did the same.

"Come with me," he said.

"Where?"

"Upstairs," he answered. "I want to show you something."

I followed him upstairs and stepped inside a chamber. My eyes widened at the sight of dozens of paintings hung on the walls.

I took one look at the first painting, and my blood ran cold.

"That is Ragnar," he said. "The god of the sky—"

"Storms and celestial circles," I finished. "Whenever he is angry, his voice can create thunder that shakes the world."

"Correct." He smiled. "You studied history, didn't you?"

In the painting, he was a tall figure with obsidian-black wings, his eyes glowing white. His presence was enough to bring darkness over the entire world.

I moved to the next painting of a tall man. "And this is Haldrim, the god of war. He is a close friend of Ragnar. He has the power to grant a warrior immense strength or strip them of their powers. Those who break his oath, he takes to the underworld and punishes for eternity. They say his presence can drive men into battle."

Erik's smile widened. "I thought most girls were interested in singing and putting flowers in their hair?"

"Most are fools," I said, remembering how Ingrid would sing, and the birds would perch around her. She had such a sweet voice, unlike me.

Erik laughed, taking a step forward. "You remind me of someone. Where did you learn all this?"

"I learned it myself," I said, remembering the days I wasn't allowed to study history. I only knew the names of gods. But Siggy would sneak history books into my chamber, and I would read them with her under the moonlight.

"You learned well," he said. "Can't say I've met many girls who know history this well."