Chapter Twelve
Agnar rose early the next day, as was his habit. He’d slept surprisingly well, a short but deep sleep, despite the murderous woman beside him and the fact he lay in Heimdall’s bed. He supposed the strain of the last few weeks was finally catching up with him.
That it was Heimdall’s bed had not bothered him until Skadi had mentioned it. Which was odd, but he supposed he had not liked to think of her sharing anything with Heimdall, especially in the bedchamber.
Agnar held little value or sentimentality to objects—with the exception of his mother’s wedding ring and his axe. Possessions could easily be lost or broken, attaching meaning to them was ridiculous. But it had obviously bothered Skadi and that had disturbed him far more than the dead man’s bed.
Had she loved Heimdall?
It enraged him to think of her loving Heimdall, of calling out his name in those sheets, or gripping the headboard as she orgasmed beneath his enemy’s touch.
Why would such affection matter to him? The old man was dead. Agnar did not mind that he’d had to agree to Astra as his heir. If bloodlines truly mattered, Sven would never have turned away from him.
Besides, Agnar had made a promise to Skadi’s father when he’d accepted their betrothal, to continue the unbroken line of Thrudheim rulers.
Skadi’s family was the beating heart of the kingdom and his duty as Skadi’s husband would be to ensure the next generation to rule Thrudheim was from her bloodline.
Oddly, he remained loyal to that vow, just as he had expected Skadi to remain loyal to their betrothal. Instead, her head had been turned by Heimdall. Was he jealous of a dead man?
Had she loved him? At first, he’d not been sure. Certainly, she had been infatuated with him as a young woman, but he’d hoped things would have changed since, that she would have realised the truth.
Skadi had not shed any tears in his presence over the man and had spoken pragmatically of his demise.
But he knew her pride meant a lot to her, so she would be reluctant to show any distress in front of him, or anyone for that matter, he imagined, but did he really know her?
He had thought so, but last night’s trick with the poison had made him question his assumptions about her.
Regardless of whether she had loved Heimdall or not, she needed to forget about that serpent-tongued deceiver and look to the future for the good of the kingdom and themselves.
Admittedly, his threatening her daughter’s life had not been the most auspicious start to their relationship… But that had been necessary.
In time, Skadi would realise his threats had been nothing more than a pretence.
Today he planned to scrub out every last trace of the man who had stolen his future.
Rising from the bed, he dressed quietly.
Skadi was snoring lightly, curled up in a ball on the very edge of the bed.
It had taken her a long time to fall asleep and for some reason he didn’t like the idea of disturbing her.
Maybe it was because he didn’t wish to fight with her so early in the morning? He snorted with amusement as he tightened the buckle of his belt.
Skadi frowned in her sleep and grumbled before settling down again with a sigh.
She snored…only very lightly, but it still made him chuckle. He was certain she would not thank him for mentioning it. So, of course, at some point he would.
He went over to her table with its lotions, salves, kohl pots and brushes.
Feeling like a thief, he quietly opened the jewellery chest and hissed with disapproval at the excess within.
Then he reached for her comb and began to run it through his hair.
His mother had loved his hair because it had matched her own colouring and, to honour her, he left it long most of the time—at least until it became unbearable.
He dragged her comb through the tangles and then tied up half of it.
His hair had mingled with a few strands of hers in the teeth of the comb.
Black and white entwined like lovers. He pulled them out and tossed them on the floor, embarrassed that she might realise he had used her things.
But his own comb had more missing teeth than an old warrior and he hadn’t had a chance to get another.
* * *
Once he was dressed and ready for the day, he made his way out into the hall. Vali was eating porridge at a nearby bench with the rest of the men. Nobody appeared tired or sick, which meant there’d been little celebration last night after he’d left with Skadi.
He couldn’t blame them—the fact their commander had almost been poisoned to death at his own wedding feast would not fill them with confidence about their victory.
Vali’s head raised as he approached and he stood up. ‘Good morning, Your Highness.’
‘You don’t need to call me that.’
Vali shrugged. ‘It might be best that I do. At least until things are settled here. The people are uneasy around us…unsurprisingly.’
Agnar grunted in agreement.
‘Shall I get a table set up for you?’ Vali asked cheerfully, gesturing towards the dais and its thrones.
‘Odin’s teeth, no! That throne is damn uncomfortable!’
Vali grinned. ‘One of the servants mentioned that Skadi usually takes her meals at a table in front of the thrones. It seemed strange to me, but now it makes sense.’
Agnar looked around the hall thoughtfully. ‘Remove my banners, but add the wolf’s head to the Thrudheim colours.’
Vali inclined his head. ‘A wise choice.’
A serving woman hurried over with a bowl of porridge for him and he recognised her as the same girl from last night who had cleaned up the broken chalice. He inspected her for a long moment, to be certain she didn’t show any sign of illness.
Unfortunately, she misunderstood his staring for suspicion, because with a gulp, she hurried to explain, ‘The porridge is fresh, Your Highness! Straight from the cauldron, look!’ She pointed to a large pot suspended over the fire pit, a long line of people waiting to be served from it, his own men as well as Thrudheim folk.
‘Are you well?’ he asked and was surprised when she jumped at the sound of his voice.
She nodded quickly. ‘Yes, Your Highness. I… I did everything the Queen asked of me.’
‘She should have scrubbed the floor herself!’ he grumbled, taking the bowl from the servant’s trembling hands.
To his irritation and surprise, she said, ‘Our Queen is wise. I would gladly do anything she asked of me.’ Then, with a respectful bob of her head, she hurried away. He sat down beside Vali, who had returned to eating his own porridge.
Agnar ran through all of his tasks for the day. ‘We need to order the silversmiths to change Thrudheim’s coin mark to that of a wolf. No one is to accept Heimdall’s likeness in payment. I do not want to see that man’s profile ever again!’
Vali looked up and nodded with agreement.
‘And order a new bed made for me. I want it as soon as possible… something whimsical and intricate like the pottery the Queen favours. But also matching our new banner of Thrudheim… Skadi will be pleased with that if nothing else.’
Vali nodded again, this time with a small quirk of his lips. ‘You didn’t sleep well?’
‘I slept fine.’ To avoid further conversation Agnar began to eat his porridge.
‘I have that perfume seller here, if you wish to speak with her?’
‘Did she tell you anything?’
‘No, but I learned a little about her from some of the men in the taverns.’
Agnar waved his spoon. ‘Go on…’
‘Gudrun has provided the settlement with medicines, soaps and perfumes for years. A family trade I believe passed on from her mother. A few years ago, she had a husband called Kar. He used to beat her daily and spent her silver in the taverns. One day, he beat their little boy instead of Gudrun—broke his nose and arm. Apparently, it was the first time Kar had turned on anyone other than her. Within two days he was dead.’
‘I see,’ Agnar replied grimly, losing his appetite for the porridge and stirring it absently.
‘There were mutters of poison from some of his friends and Heimdall almost ordered a trial. But Queen Skadi said that she had been visited by the Goddess Frigg in a dream. She was told by the Goddess that Frigg herself had struck him down for his cruelty and bad behaviour. Gudrun hadn’t been present with him at the time of his illness and none of the friends he’d been drinking with had become ill—despite being with him at the tavern all day and night.
So, how could he have been poisoned? Skadi then called for witnesses—and there were several who had heard him drunkenly cursing the gods and his wife. ’
‘So, Heimdall pardoned her, because of his wife’s pleading?’
Vali shook his head. ‘Skadi declared her innocent. It seems Heimdall did not rule at home.’
‘That explains his constant need to go raiding. Either that, or he was trying to avoid being poisoned himself,’ Agnar replied, an odd relief and satisfaction easing the tension in his shoulders.
‘Release Gudrun. Punishing her for my wife’s crime is pointless and will only encourage further resentment among the people.
But keep an eye on her and her son. Any more perfumes or medicines are forbidden from entering this hall without my permission. ’
‘There are other ways she could bring perfume in,’ Vali said thoughtfully. ‘That Brenna is a most cunning servant… I will keep a watch on her at all times.’ He snorted with amusement. ‘I imagine it will drive her mad—she thinks very highly of herself.’
‘You think very highly of yourself,’ Agnar pointed out. ‘But I doubt Skadi will try again. Besides, my order has made it clear who to blame if something should happen to me. She won’t put her daughter at risk.’
Vali’s eyes widened and he leaned in to whisper, ‘You cannot know that!’
‘I do,’ Agnar said firmly and strangely he did. He’d seen the hesitation in her eyes, even before she’d learned of her uncle’s approval of him. She’d had doubts.
It wasn’t simply her reluctance to kill him—after all, she was a warrior at heart.
A shieldmaiden who would do anything for her daughter or her people.
He’d also seen their devotion towards her—such loyalty was not given easily.
She loved her people and they loved her back.
She wouldn’t risk their safety without a good reason or certainty of success.
Vali did not appear convinced, by his words.
‘I will still keep a close eye on her handmaids.’ His eyes shifted to the side and Agnar noticed it was Skadi’s dark-haired servant, Brenna, and Astra seated at the opposite side of the hall.
The child seemed to be trying to feed a cat in a basket some of her porridge and the servant stopped glaring at Vali a moment to scold her lightly.
Agnar nodded. ‘I am sure you will. As will I.’ He scowled at the oddly soft and lingering gaze of his second in command as he looked at the servant. ‘We cannot allow our judgement to become clouded by…other things.’
Vali nodded quickly. ‘Indeed, I shall keep a careful watch.’
‘Hmmm…’ replied Agnar, unconvinced when he realised Vali had gone back to staring at Skadi’s servant.