Chapter 20 #2
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sensing her reaction. “Am I not master here now?”
Tradition proclaimed he was. A married woman didn’t retain control of anything unless the contract stipulated as much, and Finn had been willing to barter away all of her rights to her holding. Her only hope at maintaining an even keel for her people was for him to leave.
“You’re a master who doesn’t intend to stay,” she whispered as he set her lightly on her feet.
“I might if you asked me to,” he said as he led to her to the main table.
His promise was tempting, but she resisted the urge to beg him not to leave. When she married Osvald, she’d given him her whole heart, but he hadn’t returned the favor.
Need someone, and you only give them an invitation to hurt you, she reminded herself. She couldn’t need Brandr Ulfson.
Or at least she couldn’t let him know if she did.
Then the longhouse flooded with guests, and there was no more opportunity for private speech.
Everyone cheered when Katla presented the bridal ale to Brandr and he proclaimed it the best he’d ever tasted.
So many toasts were offered, she felt slightly light headed from too much drink.
Katla was prone to moderation, but there were no limits to the merrymaking this night.
Inga played her pan flute. Otto Sturlson had the entire company complaining of pain in their sides over his hilarious recounting of the tale of Thor and Loki in the land of the Frost Giants. Otto even slipped a kerchief over his head to act out the part of the thunder god in woman’s guise.
Katla wiped away tears of mirth at the image of the virile god’s vain attempt at disguising himself as female.
She slanted a quick glance at Brandr. He seemed to be enjoying himself, as a bridegroom should.
Finally, men began banging their drinking horns on the tables and started a low chant, calling for the bedding to take place.
Gerte hustled Katla into her chamber. The old woman lit the lamp with her tinder and flint and then started stripping Katla for bed.
“No, Gerte, there’s no need.” She was certain Brandr would announce his plans to leave, voiding the marriage, and that would be that.
“There’s every need, mistress,” the old woman said as she removed Katla’s slightly wilted crown of woven wheat. “If we don’t get you naked and under the covers, the men will take it upon themselves to help your new husband do it.”
“They didn’t behave so when I wed Osvald.”
“They didn’t drink so free at that wedding either,” Gerte said. “Besides, Osvald was a hard man. He would’ve ordered a man whipped till he passed out if he laid a finger on you.”
“And you think the son of Ulf the Ruthless wouldn’t do the same?” She considered it more likely Brandr would punish the offender himself rather than ordering it done, but Katla felt obligated to defend the principle.
“Oh, ja, he’d try, but folk don’t respect him the same.
Meaning no offense, I’m sure, but I don’t expect he’d be obeyed if he ordered more than a refill of his mead bowl.
” Gerte’s bony fingers worked the catches on Katla’s brooches and pulled the tunic over her head.
“Wasn’t he naught but a thrall till this night? ”
Gerte’s words grated Katla’s soul. “Brandr is the son of a jarl and a captain of the Varangian Guard. He wasn’t born a thrall, you know.”
“Ja, so he says, but we’ve all seen the iron on his neck. We’ve naught but his word for the rest.”
Gerte pulled back the bedding and waved her over.
“Quick, my lady, the men will be here soon. Then once they see the pair of you settled, you and your man will have the whole night together,” Gerte said. “Of course, in my day, the men stayed to see the bride deflowered, just to make sure the knot was tied good and proper.”
Katla’s brows arched in surprise.
“It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. My husband kept me covered up while he did the deed.
But don’t you worry your head. Those days are past, and it’s not as if you’re a green maid.
They’ll leave as soon as your husband orders them out.
” Gerte frowned, obviously recalling her previous comment about whether the word of a former thrall would be obeyed. “I hope.”
Then she lifted her bony hands in a gesture that consigned the coming events to the lap of the gods, and slipped out of Katla’s chamber.
Bridal night or not, Katla wasn’t about to face a drunken mob bare as a peeled twig. She hopped out of bed, donned a thin night shift, and scrambled back under the covers as the door to her chamber opened.
Brandr’s broad-shouldered form was framed by the doorway for a moment as he accepted some lewd advice with a good-natured laugh. Then he firmly closed the door on the crowd gathered on the other side, not even allowing them a peek at Katla in the bed. He slid the latch home with a loud click.
He turned toward Katla. Brandr’s face was fixed with a look of intense concentration as he met her gaze, the raw-boned lines of his features divided into light and dark planes in the flickering flame of the lamp.
Then he pulled his tunic over his head and stripped off his undergarment, baring his chest and arms.
“I thought we had an agreement,” Katla said. “You said you were leaving as soon as the iron collar was struck.”
He shrugged. “I’m a free man, am I not? I’ll leave when it suits me.”
He toed off his boots and pulled off his socks.
Then he turned his back to her, untied the drawstring at his waist, and peeled out of his trousers.
The smooth skin of his tight buttocks was kissed by the lamplight.
Corded muscles stood out in stark relief beneath the skin of his thighs and calves.
When he turned back to face her, his cock rose.
If he’d had to claim her before witnesses, he was certainly equipped to do it.
Katla drew a ragged breath. He was even more beguilingly male than she remembered.
Or maybe the punishing pace of work she’d set for him had burned away the last traces of softness, leaving him even more hard bodied and deeply sculpted.
She cleared her throat loudly. If she didn’t speak now, she’d lose the will to.
“What if I want you to leave?” she asked.
Brandr narrowed his eyes at her. “If you want me to leave, I will. But you’ll have to convince me that’s truly your desire.”
She sat up straighter. “That’s truly my desire.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“How can I convince you?”
“Only your body can do that. If you don’t want me to stay, I’ll know.” He took a step closer to the bed. “If you’re lying when you say you want me gone, I’ll know that too.”