Chapter Eight #2
Ivar considered me for a long moment, then sighed and grunted something indiscernible under his breath before sharing news.
“Rumors are coming out of the south that there is unrest in Scotland,” he said.
“Rumors that we’re losing ground there and King Hákon might soon be calling on several of his stronger clans to do his bidding. ”
I frowned. “And what would that be?”
“’Tis unclear as of yet, but I suspect he won’t want to give up the last of Norway’s stake there.” He shook his head and eyed the south gravely. “Even though I suspect ’tis a battle and land already lost, mark my words, there will be fighting first, and lives will once more be lost.”
“’Tis hard to imagine it might all be gone soon,” I said, sensing more change on the horizon. “From the great Danelaw centuries ago to barely a foothold there now, despite all we have given that country.”
“Ja,” Ivar agreed. “Yet times are changing, and we look to other lands. The Baltics. New paths. New places. A stronger Norway.”
“Indeed,” I murmured, even as we both knew, despite a great love for our king, that things would need to change here first, to quell the last of civil unrest and warring tribes.
Although Ivar and I spoke briefly about other things while seeing to a few boats, my thoughts remained on Freya.
I might enjoy battling, but I hoped this time the king would not call on me, giving me no choice but to leave her so soon.
I wanted time for us to grow closer. Make her fall in love with me.
Yet my mind kept going back to the crack that had formed on her boat.
I could only pray it was not an omen meant to separate us once more.
Almost as if she sensed my troubled thoughts, Freya appeared on the shoreline with Sten beside her, and all I could do was stare for a moment, taken by the sight of her in her white fur cloak with her hair braided back.
When her gaze met mine, I felt the same intense connection I had experienced the night before, despite the distance between us.
Joining her and Sten, I couldn’t help but smile. “It seems Sten had taken to you, Freya.”
“So it seems.” She looked at the wolf not cautiously, as most would, but fondly. “He’s quite impressive.” Her gaze returned to me. “How did he end up with you? ’Tis a rare thing to achieve such devotion from a wolf.”
“’Tis.” I urged her to join me so that we might eat together.
“’Twas a stroke of good luck for him to be sure, and mayhap me as well.
I was out hunting one snowy night and came across him and his litter mates when they were pups.
” Recalling the gruesome scene, I shook my head.
“A sizeable bear was attacking them, and whilst I managed to injure it, I was unable to slay it. Either way, I ended up driving it off, but not before it killed all of Sten’s litter mates but him, yet he barely lived. ”
“How awful.” She frowned. “And what of his mother?”
“I found her nearby, slain as well,” I replied gravely. “So I brought Sten back to my stronghold, saw to his wounds, and he survived. He was free to go after that, but never did. Not really. Occasionally, he leaves for a few days, likely to hunt or mate, but he always returns.”
“You saved him, so he repays the debt.” Glancing from Sten to me, she offered the sort of soft smile I could get used to seeing at the beginning of each new day. “’Tis an admirable start to your friendship that has undoubtedly become an unbreakable bond.”
“And now you share that bond with him as well,” I said, pleased. “’Tis telling on several fronts.”
“Because the spirit of my tribe is of the very beast that took his kin,” she said softly, seeing it just as clearly. “So ’tis forgiveness and acceptance of me as your mate.”
“’Twould seem that way.” I nodded hello to many in passing as most woke early to begin their day. “After we have our morning meal, we’ll spend time amongst the people if you would like.”
“I would.” She nodded hello to many as well, at ease with my people, and I could not be happier. It was a promising start to our marriage, and it lent me comfort if I had to leave anytime soon.
Once I’d led her back into the lodge where we had celebrated the previous evening, we spent time chatting with people who were clearly in awe of her before joining my aunt at the head table.
“And how are you two this fine morn?” Brynhild said.
Even though she gave us a soft, knowing smile that seemed to speak to us consummating our marriage, given her actions the night before, I would suspect she knew better. Yet things must continue to seem a certain way.
“We’re very well, thank you, Brynhild,” Freya answered, a becoming pink in her cheeks when she glanced at me.
A blush she could not fake for the sake of spinning a tale, making me wonder if she’d imagined what it would be like to see through our consummation, too, or if I merely wished that might be the case.
“’Tis good to lay eyes on that once more,” Brynhild said softly, her gaze lingering on the pendant around Freya’s neck after she sat across from us.
“It no doubt makes my sister happy to see it where it belongs from her seat in Valhalla.” She narrowed in on the blue stone inside. “And with an addition, no less.”
“Did you know of this, then, Brynhild?” Freya wondered while enjoying a light fare of bread, jam, cheese, and honeyed mead. She fingered the pendant. “Were you there when your sister had this made?”
“I was,” she acknowledged, surprising me. “She said ’twould someday become whole if the Wyrd unfolded as it should. She saw great destinies and a stronger Norway attached to it.” Her gaze went from me to Freya. “And an equally great love.”
“I don’t doubt she’s right,” I said, hoping Freya saw in my eyes the great love I already felt for her when I looked at her. Love and admiration that would only ever grow stronger.
After that, we spoke of other things, yet all the while I remained aware of Freya by my side.
The sound of her breathing and the faint, sweet scent of her hair.
Every so often, I would lean closer to share one thing or another just so our shoulders touched.
Other times, I brushed aside an escaped lock of fiery hair from her cheek so that I could hear the faint hitch of her breath or feel the softness of her cheek or neck.
Once we’d finished eating, Brynhild wished us well and went about her business, but not before giving me a small nod of encouragement, assuring me that I need not worry about showing Freya her boat.
Yet even as I leaned close once more and told her I had one more thing I would like to give her for our wedding, I feared that crack and what it might represent.
“We will spend time among your new people after I show you,” I assured her.
“But first this, as ’tis something that will be all yours always.
Something I hope makes you realize how much this tribe appreciates you and gives you a sense of freedom whenever you desire it, as you will always be free when with me, wife. Always Freya Helvig before Freya Dahl.”
I could tell she appreciated that, and as it turned out, when I led her back to the shore, she appreciated my gift even more.
Or so was the case at first.