Free God's Eye (The Northwomen Sagas #1) by Susan Fanetti Page A

Her. Brenna. He looked her in her eyes and held there. He didn’t call her ‘God’s-Eye.’ He talked to her.
     
    He tried, at least. She struggled to know what to say and had never been able to offer him more than the most perfunctory answer to a question he’d asked, and she didn’t know what things to ask of him. Conversation was simply beyond her. If there was a muscle somewhere in her that had to be flexed in order to chat with another person, that muscle had atrophied long ago.
     
    They would both be better off if she continued to avoid him.
     
    After taking her fill of the night air and sky, she crossed to the stables and went in. Here, she felt more at home; the smells of straw and wood and animal were familiar. The rustling sounds of the sleeping horses gave her calm. The calm brought a pleasant sleepiness that eluded her in the castle.
     
    Not all of the horses were sleeping, she saw. The big golden head and rich creamy mane of the mare she’d taken for her own dropped over a stall door. She turned in Brenna’s direction and nickered softly. Perhaps she had grown accustomed to these late-night visits.
     
    “Freya. No rest for you, either?” Brenna went to her and rubbed her soft nose. Freya pushed past the caress and nosed at Brenna’s furs. “Forgive me, love. I have no sweets for you tonight.”
     
    The mare huffed as if she understood and was disappointed. Estlander horses were similar to the horses of home—massive, densely-furred beasts with broad chests, thick legs and wide hooves. This was the most beautiful of any horse she’d ever seen, with a coat so golden it seemed to glow and a mane so pure and creamy one might think it would taste sweet. Brenna supposed she was as much a slave to beauty as any other, because she’d seen the mare and fallen in love straightaway.
     
    Perhaps that had something to do with why she could not dig Vali out of her head. He was not beautiful; that was the wrong word. Perhaps he wasn’t even handsome. His features seemed too rough for that word as well. But he was…compelling. His huge, heavily muscled body. His straight nose and heavy brow, like his face had been carved from stone. His rich, dark beard. His serious blue eyes.
     
    At night, while she fought to find rest in her luxurious stone cell, her mind would conjure him and make her all the more restless.
     
    Freya had dropped off to sleep with her nose snug between Brenna’s arm and side. Brenna leaned her head against the mare’s face, feeling sleep finally move over her as well. She opened the stall and stepped in, making Freya chuff a protest as she backed her up.
     
    In the stall, she went to the far corner and settled herself into the fragrant straw, wrapping her furs around her. Freya came over and nudged her gently, and Brenna rubbed her nose again.
     
    Then they both slept.
     
     
    ~oOo~
     
     
    The next morning, Brenna, Leif, and Vali sat in the hall with any of the other raiders who were free and inclined to be part of the discussion. Not everyone was interested in planning. Many preferred to live and work and be pointed in the proper direction when it was time to fight. Thus, of twenty-nine raiders who’d stayed behind and survived, thirteen were assembled around the heavy table that had, the first time they’d seen it, held the heads of their young scouts.
     
    Even weeks after that day, Leif always scowled when he looked down at the dark wood.
     
    Olga, their former captive and now in charge of the servants who’d stayed, sat across from Leif. Next to her was Jaan, a young farmer from the village. Everyone had focused intently on the end of the table, where Tord, Sigvalde, and Viger were giving their report of what they’d found in the world beyond. Despite the fate of Einar and Halvar, they had had no choice but to send scouts out again. They needed to know exactly how far away trouble might be. If such could be known at all.
     
    They already knew that the central town in