Chapter 8 #2
Averting her gaze from the wall where she’d braced herself while he’d devoured her like the wolf he was, she settled on the furs in the corner. Steinar was a beast, yes, in some ways, but one who could be tamed, not a frightening, wild one, nothing like Godfrid, who had been a real monster.
Out of nowhere, another memory assailed her.
Once, a few years ago, Cwenthryth had found herself out of the city walls later than usual—and face-to-face with a lone wolf in search of prey.
It was obvious that the animal had been driven out of the protection of the woods by hunger, and yet he had not harmed her, defenceless as she’d been.
He’d looked at her a long moment, as if considering what to do, and then trotted away on silent paws.
To this day, she had no idea what had made the animal leave her alone, but she still remembered the dread mingled with fascination she’d felt upon staring into his glowing amber eyes. It was the same fascination she felt when she looked into Steinar’s intense blue gaze.
Son of the wolf, indeed.
Despite the turmoil agitating her soul, it wasn’t long before she fell into a dreamless sleep, the same restorative sleep she’d slept since the moment she’d arrived in the village.
In the morning, Cwenthryth was awakened by the sound of music.
The preparations for the wedding were already under way, it seemed.
Smiling in anticipation of the happy day, she scrambled back to her feet.
The sight that met her eyes when she walked out of the tree house had her mouth fall open in awe.
The whole village had been transformed while she slept.
It was like waking up in an enchanted, distant land.
The trees were adorned with woven garlands, long tables covered with linen drapings had been positioned around the well, and everyone was wearing their best, most colorful clothes.
Even the sky had made an effort. It was stretching over the scene in one gorgeous blue canvas.
Cwenthryth could not imagine a more suitable day for celebrating two young people’s love.
Moved by a fresh burst of optimism, she descended the rope ladder.
“What can I do to help?” she asked Rorik, the first person she recognized in the crowd milling around. He was carrying a stack of stools to the nearest table, displaying impressive strength.
“Cwenthryth, good morning.” He didn’t seem surprised to see her, as if she belonged in the village. “Perhaps you could go to the hut over there and see what needs to be done? I know it is where the food is being prepared, so they might welcome the help.”
“Of course.”
A moment later she was chopping onions and herbs to add to an enormous pot of stew.
A woman who’d introduced herself as Moon’s sister was making dough for rye bread, while her mother, a Saxon woman called Frigyth, was frying oatcakes over the fire.
Two other women were cutting legs of smoked lamb into thin slices, and a boy was roasting what looked like a boar on a spit over a second fire.
Everyone worked in happy companionship, and Cwenthryth felt as if she had always been part of the community. It was a wonderful feeling.
Finally, everything was ready.
“Let’s go,” Frigyth said, cleaning her hands in a bowl of water. “I can hear everyone making their way to the river.”
“Yes.”
Cwenthryth had heard that the ceremony was to be held at the round boulder, like all important moments in the village.
As she took her place alongside everyone, she congratulated herself on having agreed to stay for the wedding.
The celebration promised to be joyous, nothing like the ones she was used to.
The few weddings she had been to had all been held in the cold town church, and the couples hadn’t seemed particularly happy to be there.
Rowena and Thorfinn, by contrast, looked as if they were bursting with joy, and their happiness was infectious.
Witnessing such a moment would be the perfect way to steer her mind away from the formidable Norseman dominating her thoughts, and give her courage for what was to come.
This glimpse into a simple, carefree life gave her hope for the future.
Somehow in the misery and solitude of the last year she had forgotten that there could be happiness and beauty in the world. The reminder was a welcome one.
Cwenthryth watched as Rowena and Thorfinn kissed, the love between them obvious.
Her eyes started to burn and she noticed that she was not the only one who had gone emotional, which was little wonder.
Having a man look at her thus was every woman’s dream.
Moon’s sister, Aife, whom she’d met in the tent earlier, seemed particularly affected.
Did a man from the village make her heartbeat go faster, Cwenthryth wondered? Was she hoping to be the next bride?
Once the ceremony was over, everyone started to make their way back to the well and the feast waiting for them. Before Cwenthryth could decide where to sit—nowhere near Steinar, obviously—a man with intricately braided hair and a neatly trimmed beard came to stand in front of her.
“Good afternoon. I’m guessing you must be Cwenthryth?” Like most people in the village, he spoke her language without any accent.
“Yes.”
The man smiled at her obvious surprise. “I’m Haakon, Rowena’s twin brother. I believe she may have mentioned me?”
“She has.”
The girl had done more than mention her brother; she’d said he would be delighted to meet someone new.
And it seemed she’d been right. The man was smiling at her as if she were the best thing to have happened to him in years.
Not quite how Thorfinn had looked at his new bride when their vows had been exchanged, but close enough.
Cwenthryth’s heart skipped a beat. Could this be it?
Could he be the handsome stranger of her dreams?
The one who would fall under her spell upon meeting her?
He certainly seemed delighted to see her and he was attractive enough.
Were all the men in this village as alluring, she wondered?
It appeared so. All the ones she had seen so far had been tall, blond, and strong.
Haakon was no exception, and he was also in possession of twinkling eyes, a winning smile, and a deep, rich voice. A perfect combination.
And yet… And yet looking at him did not cause her heart to skip any beats.
He was just too tame, too young, too polished, nothing like…
Before she knew what she was doing, she looked to the place where Steinar stood, talking to two other men. Her heart sank. Did she really have to compare everyone to him and find the others lacking? Yes, apparently she did.
She turned her attention back to Haakon, who was waiting for her to resume the conversation.
“Rowena didn’t tell me anything about you, though, I’m afraid,” she said, deciding all was not lost. Attraction was not always instantaneous. Perhaps tonight she could find out something about Rowena’s twin brother that would capture her interest.
The laugh that answered her was honest and deliciously hoarse, yet another point in his favor.
“My sister was being very wise, as always, keeping the less flattering aspects of me to herself.” Haakon offered her his arm. “Come on, let’s go eat. By the time night has fallen, I’m confident we’ll have unwrapped each other’s every secret.”