Chapter Ten #2
This man amazed her. “If your ideas are tested, you’ll surely change the future of this nation.” She admired his courage and tenacity. “Edicts of expulsion against the Semites have been issued across Europe. Welcoming them to Norway might be an ingenious move.”
“I’m willing to try anything once,” Edwin said.
From what she’d learned in her short time here, this country couldn’t settle disputes amongst its own citizenry.
How would they manage a large population of immigrants?
What aspiring ruler would risk so much unless he was directly inspired by God?
She ate a piece of cheese and a handful of blueberries while she further considered him.
False piety infuriated Tyr. Edwin’s putrid lies had the same effect on Rachelle as an aphrodisiac.
She actually believed him. Open borders, inviting Jews and Christians to settle in the Trondelag …
He imagined it with revulsion; bustling market places overflowing with dark-skinned exotics from the lands beyond Europe.
Lands that belonged to his brethren would be confiscated and sold to strangers.
Pagan holy sites would be dismantled. Norwegian women would be pledged in marriage to heathens. His anger festered.
But Tyr always gave recognition to whoever deserved it, even to a devious bastard.
Two courses of light fare had hardly taken the edge off Tyr’s monstrous appetite.
His stomach moaned. He craved strong meat.
And if Edwin was truly the visionary he claimed to be, he knew a way to test his tolerance.
Slamming his fists down, a thrall served him ale.
He laughed at his own cunning while he drank greedily.
Edwin and Rachelle stared at him.
The sudden change in his behavior stopped their conversation short. Good. And now he’d put an end to their flirtation. “Serve the main course.”
Unable to mistake the aroma of the food, the guests clapped as thralls appeared with sizzling horseflesh, skewered on long metal rods. A traditional meal from ancient times meant to unite Norsemen. The prince’s face twisted with revulsion after a plate of meat was placed in front of him.
With one strike, Tyr could crush his skull.
Instead of resorting to violence, he’d devised a much more effective way to dispose of the prince.
Picking up a skewer, Tyr bit off a large piece of meat.
He watched Rachelle nibble delicately on her own serving.
By Odin, he loved her. Dipping a piece of bread in thick brown broth, he noisily sucked the juices from the crust before he consumed it in one bite.
Atrocious table manners were useful. He studied Edwin between sips of wine. The coward hadn’t touched his food.
“Is there something wrong with the main course?”
The horseflesh was swimming in garlic and onion sauce. “Nothing at all,” Edwin lied.
“Do you prefer something more delicate, perhaps leg of lamb?”
Edwin leapt to his feet. “Are you calling me weak?”
The prince’s guards swarmed to the front of the room. Onetooth jumped up, holding his battle-axe. Rachelle gasped, then dropped her linen on her lap. She threw Tyr a piercing look. Amused by Edwin’s reaction, he disregarded her. She’d hear the truth soon enough.
“Why do you tempt my displeasure, Jarl Sigurdsson?”
“I never intended to make you uncomfortable, Prince Edwin. You’ve spent two days sharing your vision for a renewed Trondelag.
You condemned your father’s traditions and offered an array of ideas that might earn any other man a death sentence.
You speak prettily of tolerance and unification.
You claim to care little for what gods men worship.
Pagan, Christian, or Jew. Some might believe such lies.
If your intentions are true, eat with me.
” He left no room for refusal and leaned in so only Edwin could hear his next words.
“You’ll die before you get between her legs. ”
Edwin swore. “Is that what made you angry?”
Tyr’s heart pounded. “Your father never compromised. Although I disagreed with him on many issues of importance, he was a man of purpose. The north provided security for him and he knew the only way to keep us in his ranks was to turn a blind eye while we worshipped Odin. He did so out of desperation. And I respected him for it.”
“My father was a tyrannical beast.”
The formal mourning period for King Hardrada had barely ended. And his son dared to publicly deprecate his name. Angry words flew from the crowd. Edwin’s insult provided the damning evidence Tyr needed to disprove his claims.
“You’ve taken advantage of your position.” Tyr stood, then pushed a full trencher in front of the prince. “I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself. Eat with me and I’ll be the first man to welcome you.”
Edwin refused. “This unclean food is forbidden to all Christians.”
“By what authority?” Tyr harpooned a chunk with his knife, then held it up.
“Pope Gregory, whose corpse is rotting in the earth? Why concern yourself with a holy man whose body is fodder for worms. Eat as proof of your dedication and I will bend my knee in support of your claim. Recognize Odin’s authority, admit Thor’s spirit still roams this sacred land, and condemn the destruction of the Holy Oak in Hesse—renounce your faith in the White Christ and beg our forgiveness and I might let you walk out of here.
” In that moment, Tyr sensed the strength of Allfather’s presence.
Edwin shoved the plate aside, then drew his sword. “You question my honor.”
“Honor,” Tyr scoffed. “Liars have none.”
“You’re not qualified to be my judge.” Edwin turned to Rachelle. “This man speaks of truth, yet he withholds valuable information from you.” He grinned triumphantly. “A man that tells half-truths is still a liar.”
Rachelle eyed Tyr. “What hasn’t he told me?”
Tyr edged closer. The prince’s blade was inches from his throat.
“The Normans invaded England and murdered your good King Harold at Hastings. The Saxons are no longer freemen.”
Tyr lunged.
Edwin’s weapon came loose as Tyr wrestled him down. The back of the prince’s head landed in a trencher of gravy. Tyr grabbed a fistful of hot meat from another plate and shoved it in Edwin’s big mouth. “Choke on it, you fucking bastard.”
Edwin’s face turned three shades of purple.
Onetooth intervened, grabbing Tyr’s shoulder. “Let him go, milord.” The captain pried his fingers loose one by one.
Freed, Edwin flipped over. He spit the food out on the floor, gasped violently for air, then sagged to his knees.
Scanning the hall, Tyr located the prince’s men.
They were surrounded by Tyr’s personal guards.
None of this bothered him half as much as the horrified look on Rachelle’s face after she learned the fate of her countrymen.
Tears stained her cheeks. Words wouldn’t console her. And Tyr didn’t dare touch her.
Uttering a heart-wrenching cry, she fled upstairs.