Chapter Nineteen
The rest of her afternoon with Agnar was surprisingly pleasant, although Skadi still felt rattled from earlier. His vow to her ancestors had shattered the carefully built wall around her heart in a hundred ways.
If he was trying to manipulate her into lowering her guard…he’d succeeded. He had apologised to her father and sworn to protect Astra. But more than that, he’d taken the time to learn her family history, to listen to the stories of her ancestors… He’d cared.
Heimdall, even in the glory of his youth, with his charming smiles and flexing muscles, would have paled in comparison to Agnar on his knees.
No man had stolen her breath like he’d done in that moment.
His long dark hair fluttering in the breeze, those vivid green eyes filled with strength and promise, the scarred hand clenched above his heart and his vow—Odin’s teeth!
His vow—she’d almost felt faint staring at him.
Thankfully, she’d had a little time afterwards to compose herself. Astra pointed out all the farms and landmarks along the way. With endless patience he listened to Astra babble about ‘Hilda’s sheep farm’ or ‘the ancient hanging tree’ where murderers were punished.
She’d tried to stop Astra from explaining the long tale of Dagni’s pig thief. ‘I do not think Agnar needs to know that tale,’ she said firmly, leaning forward in her saddle to try to catch her daughter’s eye.
But Agnar didn’t seem to mind, and even encouraged her. ‘No, tell me, Astra. Who was the pig thief and how did they steal the prize sow from a locked barn? They must have had a lot of cunning.’
Astra was thrilled by his interest. ‘Dagni couldn’t understand it either!
She’d locked the pig up before the midsummer feast and then it disappeared!
She suspected her closest neighbour, because he’d always been jealous of her pig.
But when she demanded to see his barn, no pig was to be seen!
And, when she came home, the pig was back! ’
‘Had the thief returned it, fearing they would be discovered?’ asked Agnar thoughtfully and Skadi almost ruined it by laughing.
‘That’s what Dagni thought! And she wanted her neighbour punished, claiming that its return was proof that they were the original thief!
But the neighbour argued that the only thief was Dagni, because a bag of his apples were missing, and he claimed Dagni had made a fine mess of his stores while searching for her pig!
Neighbour was ready to hang neighbour and the entire island was in chaos, about to wage war upon one another! ’
Agnar looked at Skadi with wide, concerned eyes and she sighed. ‘It wasn’t that bad…’
‘What did your mother do?’ Agnar asked, ignoring Skadi’s comment and seemingly enthralled by the tale.
‘Well… First, she asked to see the store with the missing apples. Then she walked over to Dagni’s hall to see the barn where the pig lived…’ Astra began to giggle.
‘And what did she find?’ asked Agnar, leaning forward in his saddle to hear her better.
Astra snorted. ‘The pig had dug out a hole beneath the back wall of her barn and had even covered its escape by moving its trough to cover it! Dagni hadn’t thought to check if the pig had escaped by itself… Pigs are surprisingly clever!’
Agnar reeled back with a loud, ‘Ahhh! And that is why the pig returned…after eating the neighbour’s apples, I’d wager!’
‘That’s what Mother said!’ laughed Astra merrily.
‘Now tell me, how did your mother appease both neighbours? After all, Dagni had accused her neighbour falsely and her animal had stolen their apples.’
‘Dagni had to give her neighbour the next batch of piglets from the sow as an apology and in payment for the stolen apples.’
‘A harsh punishment,’ said Agnar with mock horror, but there was a twinkle in his eyes when he looked at her.
Skadi interjected quickly, ‘It was more that she had not checked all possibilities before accusing her neighbour. We are a close community; such behaviour is not acceptable.’
‘A wise decision,’ Agnar said with a smile that made her heart race.
‘There’s the crafters’ village!’ declared Astra excitedly.
Sure enough, the crafters’ village came into view as they crested one of the gently rolling hills of the flatlands.
The settlement was a series of barns and workshops encircling one large hall.
No defences or walls, only farmland surrounded it.
If it had been any other village, she would have been afraid for the inhabitants, but thankfully, Jor?, the goddess of mother nature, had created the perfect defences of sea and cliff to protect them.
The warriors they’d sent on ahead were already pitching tents and helping prepare for their stay.
As they approached, the crafters came out of their workshops to greet their Queen, with nervous glances towards Agnar.
Skadi tried her best to smile broadly to reassure them all was well—her sudden marriage would be a shock to them.
‘There are so many women and children,’ said Agnar with a frown. ‘Where are the men?’
Skadi nodded, ‘The mines and raiding have taken many men from us over the years. Some of the women felt vulnerable in Thrudheim. We have many traders and merchants visiting our shores, not to mention warriors.’
Agnar appeared thoughtful for a moment, before saying, ‘You gave the widows this land and the workshops so that they can support and feed themselves?’
Skadi chuckled. ‘I think it works well. Have you not seen the beautiful things they make? I merely help them achieve their goals without interference. Of course, the silver mine is where the majority of our wealth comes from. But these crafters have an equal part to play in our prosperity. Thrudheim crafts are well respected and sought after along the northern trading routes, they do very well indeed.’
With surprising speed Agnar dropped down from his horse and then turned towards her with a raised hand, silently offering to help her dismount.
She didn’t need his assistance, but quite liked that he had offered.
She hadn’t even thought to wait for him to do so before, had always hopped down by herself as she normally did.
Heimdall hadn’t done anything like that since before they were married. She had thought it was because they were equal. But Agnar’s offer of help seemed somehow more respectful, as though he wanted to protect and care for her…because he valued her as his wife and as his Queen.
She rested her palms on the tops of his shoulders, the silk of his hair brushing against her fingers and making them curl into the wool of his tunic. He reached for her waist, and she dropped down into his embrace, trusting him with her weight.
He held her aloft for a moment, before letting her slide down the length of him, her breasts lightly brushing against his chest in an intimate touch that caused her heart to race. The rasp of their clothing was the only sound between them, and she bit her lip, hoping for more…a touch, a kiss…
She hadn’t realised she was holding her breath until his head tilted and he asked, shrewdly, ‘When did this begin? Was it your doing?’
Was he talking about the mutual lust growing between them? She couldn’t be certain, wasn’t sure if she could pin down the exact moment when she’d wanted him. It had come upon her like a quick flowing tide, swallowing her whole.
‘What do you mean?’ Her fingers flexed into the wool of his tunic, curving around his thick shoulders.
‘The village…was it your idea?’
‘Oh!’ Belatedly, she remembered what they’d been talking about only moments before and she felt as if she’d been thrown into the sea. Her hands dropped to her sides, heavy with disappointment, and she took a step away from him.
There was a brief moment when his hands tightened around her waist as if unwilling to let her go and then with a flustered expression he released her.
He rocked back on his heels with a deep and husky clearing of his throat, that softened the blow of her disappointment and she smiled, finally answering his question.
‘Yes, it was my idea. Heimdall wasn’t convinced the widows could work the land as well as the men.
But he liked the idea of freeing up more men for his raiding parties, so he allowed it.
Not only did the widows produce more food than the men, they also spent their free time creating crafts.
Now they had a community of women to help with raising the children, it was possible to work on other things as well.
Over the last ten to fifteen years, their crafts have meant they are not only the food basket of the island, but they are successful traders in their own right. ’
‘You are proud of them.’
‘I am.’
Movement from the hall caught her eye and she smiled broadly, as Brenna’s mother came running out to greet her, wiping her apron hastily as if she’d just come from preparing Nattmal—which Skadi imagined she would have been, knowing Gertrud as she did.
‘Gertrud!’ cried Astra with delight, already reaching down to Skadi, wishing to be helped down from the horse.
To her surprise Agnar reached for her instead and without a moment’s hesitation Astra leapt into his arms and was gently set down on her feet in front of him.
She ran forward and was embraced by Gertrud.
‘Greetings, Queen Skadi and King… Agnar,’ said Gertrud, a little hesitant over saying his name, possibly because Gertrud had only just learned of Skadi’s marriage.
News was slow to reach the crafters—it was partly why Skadi had sent Oddmund on ahead.
Although why Agnar was so reluctant to trust Oddmund was beyond her.
‘Greetings, Gertrud!’ said Skadi, hugging the woman before introducing her to Agnar. ‘Gertrud, is the leader of the village, she looked after me when I was a child and she is also Brenna’s mother.’
Was it her imagination, or did Agnar seem to take on a more respectful countenance after the introduction?
It was as if he realised how important Gertrud was to her, which she was.
She’d been like a mother to Skadi as a child—her father had been wonderful, but he’d also been a king with many duties to attend to.
It had been Gertrud who had nursed her through sickness and treated her grazed knees. She had been as loving to Brenna as she had been to Skadi and she now thought of Brenna as her sister because of it.
Agnar bowed to Gertrud and said, ‘You have done well. This is a fine village. I have been impressed by the crafts and food produced here. Thrudheim thanks you.’
Gertrud smiled pleasantly, obviously surprised by his praise and relieved to see the fearsome Wolf Slayer and Usurper of Thrudheim wasn’t as terrifying as she might have imagined.
‘Nattmal isn’t ready yet. We eat quite late at the village, so that we can use as much of the daylight as possible for our crafts and farming.
Would you like to settle yourselves in the hall with some mead and cheese, or would you prefer to visit the workshops first? ’
Astra was already running to play with the other children and she waited to see what Agnar wished to do.
She wasn’t surprised when he requested to see the workshops.
It was reassuring to know that he cared so much about the running of her kingdom.
Heimdall had never been interested in the daily grind of ensuring life ran smoothly.
He had always been searching for glory and excitement.
First by marrying her and then by leaving her at every opportunity he had to go raiding.
She suspected Agnar was the opposite to Heimdall, but only time would tell for certain.
You also trusted Heimdall once! she reminded herself, and she winced at the memories of her blushing and fawning over Heimdall. How was that any different from her recent behaviour? It seemed that age did not grant you wisdom after all.