Chapter Twenty-Two
Kinsmen
Gratefully, three days of bed rest restored Aaron’s health.
Of course, it helped that he was under the watchful eyes of Rachelle and the spaewife while Kara, too, rested.
He never had a chance of climbing out of bed.
But today proved entirely different. Jarl Erik the Bald had arrived late the previous night.
A meeting and feast were being prepared.
Although Kara ached to see her father, she agreed to adhere to Tyr’s carefully thought out plan.
The jarl believed seeing her first would only increase her father’s anger.
So now, dressed in a black tunic and braies, his weapons polished, boots cleaned, beard trimmed, and hair braided in Norse fashion, Kara’s Scottish husband left their bedchamber and made his way to the great hall.
If a man could shed his birthright like skin and be reborn a Viking, Jarl McNally would be a perfect candidate for such an honor.
She feared her father would reject his conversion and focus on his inferior heritage.
Norse women only married Norsemen. Something he’d repeated over the years.
She opened the bedchamber door, then silently settled on a stair where she could see and hear everything going on below without being discovered.
Her father had been given a seat of honor at the high table, next to Tyr.
Rachelle sat to her husband’s left. Kara nearly choked when she sighted Marteinn next to her father. The man he wanted her to marry.
Aaron stood at the center of the hall, feet away from the dais where the high table was situated.
“What have you done with my only daughter?” Erik asked.
Kara’s hands fisted so tight her fingernails dug painfully into her palms.
“I fell in love and married her, milord.”
The jarl drained his cup, then slammed it down.
“So the rumors are true?” He shook his head.
“You kidnapped her, travelled unchaperoned across the north country, begged your kinsman for sanctuary, and only after one of your many women returns with a suckling bastard at her breast you allegedly sired, then you decide to marry her.” Erik never misconstrued his words.
He leaned back in his chair, perfectly comfortable and in control.
Aaron stared up at the ceiling, then back at Erik.
“You’re twisting things around, milord. And although I forgive your lack of manners, considering how you learned about our nuptials, I’d ask only one thing.
Never defile the sacred oaths we exchanged on our wedding day.
There’s nothing more pure than the love I have for your daughter. ”
Her father laughed so violently his whole body shook. “What’s this talk of purity? Were you a bloody virgin on your wedding night?”
Laughter sounded.
Kara bit her lower lip to keep herself silent. Don’t interfere. You promised.
“From what I hear,” Marteinn interjected, shooting up from his seat. “Kara wasn’t a goddamned maiden, either.”
If he could, Kara was sure he’d froth at the mouth. He’d never spoken against her. Her heart plummeted, as she leaned weakly against the wall behind her.
“Say it again, within reach,” Aaron challenged, strutting closer. “Your intent matched my own. Only, the best man claimed her.”
Marteinn’s hands clenched as he looked Aaron over disapprovingly. “Widows are made every day—and remarried within a fortnight. Say the word, I’ll help you reach Valhalla, if outlanders are permitted.”
Aaron’s hand flew to the hilt of his sword.
“Enough!” Tyr stood. “What’s done is done. And you,” he faced Marteinn, “have no more claim to Valhalla than my cousin.”
“But I do.” Erik said. “Lines were crossed, sacred trust violated. The day a father is denied control over his own children’s destinies is the day Ragnarok descends.”
Jarl Sigurdsson rubbed the back of his neck, clearly frustrated. “No one denies your right to be angry, Jarl Erik. But I won’t tolerate insults from a man who has no claim on my kinsman’s wife.”
“A matter for the Thing to decide, I think,” Erik retorted.
“You question the validity of the marriage I presided over?” Tyr shot back.
“I question the motivation. I intended her for someone else.”
“You never formalized the betrothal,” Aaron argued, climbing the first step of the dais. “Never made a public announcement—never advised your daughter to save herself for her intended.”
“How do you know what I did or didn’t do?” Erik jumped up.
Kara felt light headed. She groaned, holding her head between her hands. All this discussion about who and what—but no consideration for her feelings.
“And does my daughter know the true nature of the devil bedding her? What unholy creature might be forming in her womb right now?”
Somehow, Aaron ended up kneeling on the table with his short sword imbedded in the wood between him and Erik. “Say it again and I’ll crush your fucking head.”
“Wait.” Kara ran down the stairs. She couldn’t, wouldn’t let her husband and father destroy each other.
Both men halted, shocked to see her.
“Father,” she bowed, huffed out a breath, then quickly corrected herself and curtsied. “This is the man I love—the man I chose.”
“What do you know of love?” Marteinn asked. “This man seduced you, took advantage of your innocence.”
Tyr slid sideways, grabbing a fistful of Marteinn’s tunic. “Silence.”
Erik’s face softened for a fleeting moment when he saw her.
“He’s a Christian—paid to train an army that one day will destroy everything consecrated to Odin.
Right now, his men are hunting pagans accused of desecrating holy ground in Nidaros.
He cannot be trusted. And I’ll be damned if my only daughter and grandchildren will be raised to tremble before the cross. ”
Aaron let out a growl. “You speak of things you do not know.”
Kara walked behind her husband and reached for her father’s hand. “Please,” she pleaded. “Hear him before you rush to judgment the way I did.”
“No,” Erik snarled. He pulled a knife from his weapon belt. “Odin as my witness, I’ll eliminate another enemy of the gods before his false religion takes root in my daughter’s heart.” He raised the dagger.
“Stop,” Tyr shouted. “Ask him before you strike.”
“Ask him what?” Erik paused.
“What god he serves.”
Kara took a deep breath; her future depended on how her husband answered.
“Jarl McNally,” Erik spoke through clenched teeth. “What god do you worship?”
Aaron glanced over his shoulder at his wife.
She wanted to wedge herself between them, but didn’t dare interfere.
He mouthed three words, I love you, then stared at her father again.
He reached inside a pocket on his weapon belt, took out what appeared to be two gold coins, then offered them to Erik. “Proof of my loyalty.”
Erik the Bald gasped as he held them up. “Odin’s gold.” He sounded dismayed. “Where did you get these, outlander?”
“From the priest at the standing stones.”
There were a few faint echoes from the crowd. Some spoke in favor of Aaron, others against.
“After I purged the Christian god from my body, the priest gifted me with these coins and said, Remember Odin’s generosity.
You no longer belong to the White Christ. You are a son of Norway now.
Someday, when you least expect it, that gold will buy your freedom.
This is Odin’s message—Allfather protects his own. ”
Erik’s cheeks turned red.
Kara scarcely breathed. But after her father plopped down in his chair, she realized the initial danger was over.
“All this time,” Erik muttered. “You deceived me when you came to my home recruiting for King Olaf.”
“No,” Aaron denied, sliding off the table. “I refuse to use my faith as a weapon for authority. I rely on my reputation as a soldier. Nothing more.”
“Father,” Kara said, approaching. “He is your son now. My husband. Dedicated to Allfather.”
“He’s a Scotsman.”
“No,” Tyr said, “he’s my kinsman, as Norse as any man sitting in this hall.”
Silence hung between them after that.
“What of these coins?” Erik flipped them over in his big hand.
Kara positioned herself where she could see her husband and father at the same time. Please, Odin, she begged, give me the future I’ve dreamed of. Then, as if Allfather answered through Aaron, he said, “Keep them as a token of my highest esteem for you and my wife.”
Erik leaned forward, both hands on the tabletop. “Aye,” he said. “A fair price for my daughter’s hand. Now sit with me, Jarl McNally, I’m hungry. And if you ever lie to me again, I’ll beat the piss out of you.”
Kara could hardly contain her joy as her husband opened his arms wide and she rushed into them. With her head resting against his chest, she whispered I love you a hundred times finally knowing what her future held.