Ivar stepped into the dim light of the gathering hall. He looked about the many sleeping bodies, some having passed out where they sat, others stretched out with furs covering them. Ivar glanced toward the head table and found his father glaring at him. Ivar wanted to cringe, but there was no ignoring his father. He made his way toward the man who was his leader and father, both positions enabling him to command Ivar to his will.
“You insulted our guests last night.” Soren did not waste words.
“Who followed me? Someone would have had to if you were sure I wasn’t in my chamber.”
“Your wife. She informed her father you were missing.”
“And how would she if she hadn’t either followed me or gone to my chamber? Neither of which are appropriate.” Ivar scowled. “And she’s not my wife.”
“She will be by tonight.”
Ivar stifled his grimace as he sat beside his father.
“The ceremony isn’t until tomorrow.”
“They have moved theweddingforward. At your wife’s demand.”
“Demand? That seems rather presumptuous for someone who has been here less than a day. Already giving orders and not even blessed as your heir’s wife. I wonder what other demands she intends to make, now that she knows our wills can get bent.”
Soren growled as his knuckles turned white, his grip on his mug so tight that Ivar waited for it to crack.
“She is a woman on the eve of her wedding, and her husband is bedding another woman.”
“And she intended to be bedded before the ceremony. I’m just not convinced I’m the one she wanted to fuck.”
“How dare you speak of your wife in such a manner?”
“I dare because everyone knows she’s fucking half the guards her father brought. I heard more than one person whispering such last night. I’ll wager she insists some of the men remain after her family leaves. I bet she’ll complain to her father that she isn’t comfortable yet without familiar faces. Do you intend to have strange warriors, ones trained to kill us, live among us? Is that how you will prove the alliance is solid? Why not let them stay and send Inga back?”
“You sound like a petulant child.”
“I sound like a man who knows better than to trust the woman being forced upon me. You want this alliance for the sake of our clan. Right now. But what about when you are gone? What about when Mother is no longer the frú? You cannot deny the duties Mother shoulders, especially when you are away. Do you honestly see Inga able to do what Mother does? Do you honestly see Inga being able to lead and protect our people? You may get your alliance now to protect the tribe, but what are does destiny hold for us once you are gone?” Ivar leaned back in his chair and stared out at the sleeping members of his tribe.
“She will mature into the woman she needs to be,” Soren sounded doubtful for the first time.
“There is maturity, but there is character. Inga doesn’t have the character to be our frú. She doesn’t have it to be anyone’s frú. Inga is too selfish to put anyone’s needs ahead of hers, let alone an entire homestead.”
“You should have more faith in the woman you will live with for the rest of your life.”
“Father,” Ivar took a deep breath before broaching a topic everyone studiously avoided. “It’s no secret that you and Mother do not get along. You never have, from what I’ve heard. But that’s not the same as what you’re sentencing me to. You and Mother may wish you hadn’t married one another, but you trust and rely upon Mother. Youcantrust and rely upon her. Do you believe I can do that with Inga? Do you expect our people to do the same? You have set us all up for failure. There is no way she will be what Mother is, and our people will notice before the first moon is over. You and Mother are healthy and strong. You will both live many more years, but that will only give our people more years to dread Inga becoming their frú.”
“You don’t give her enough credit. She can grow to be what your Mother is.”
“Did Mother have to grow to be what my amma was? Or did she arrive here already prepared to be your helpmate, to serve our people?”
Soren was trapped, and he realized it. He may have a miserable marriage, but he respected his wife. He did not like her, but he had to admit that much of it was not her fault. Soren had been in Ivar’s position, forced to give up the woman he wanted for the sake of his people. But Soren had not fought for the woman he wanted. He had given in and let the woman go, not out of duty, but because he assumed one woman was as good as another. Soren’s father had blessed him with a woman who ruled their homestead as well as his mother did, and Disa did well when Soren was away. But he had refused to accept Disa because she was not the woman he wanted. Soren bedded his wife and enjoyed the time with her; intimacy was the only thing upon which they agreed. His rejection and scorn damaged his marriage, however, before it had a chance to begin. He recognized that he had made his wife a bitter woman well before her time, but he was too prideful to admit to it and ask forgiveness.
Soren was aware Ivar was not exaggerating. He had seen Inga’s propensity to narcissism during the young woman’s visits. He had niggling doubts about her suitability, but he had pursued the alliance before he met her. Soren needed the feud to end before it impoverished and weakened the clan. Soren had observed how well Ivar got along with Thor’s sons, particularly Rangvald, who he suspected would one day be jarl. Harold was too reckless, impetuous, and vain to not die young in battle. Soren had lost his own younger brother, Skarde, who shared a similar personality to Harold.
He allowed himself to consider Lena for the first time. He had known the woman since she was a baby. Her father had been one of his most trusted warriors until his injury kept him from fighting beyond simple home defense. Lena’s mother had been close friends with Disa, welcoming her when his wife first arrived. Lena, Vigo, Eindride, and Ivar had gravitated towards one another as children. Even when other girls were beginning to train to be shieldmaidens, Lena invariably wound up training with Vigo, Eindride, and Ivar. As the three boys grew into young men, and their strength increased, Soren had assumed Lena would move on to spar and train with women. He could not have been more mistaken, nor could he have underestimated her more. Lena had an intuition for battle, and where she could not overpower his son, Vigo, and Eindride, she made a habit of outwitting them. She used her smaller frame and shorter sword to allow her to get closer to her opponent. Her blade landed across ribs, poking breast bones more times than not. While most of the men were stronger than her, she was by no means weak. She was the strongest and fastest of all his shieldmaidens. Unusually strong by most standards.
Soren also had to admit that where most of his shieldmaidens refused to consider household duties beyond what was necessary for them to run their homes, Lena excelled in that domain, too. She lost her mother when she was a young girl, but her grandmother stepped in to train her how to be a woman who managed a household and defend it while the men were away. Lena found a loving relationship with Disa, the daughter his wife never had. Lena worked alongside Disa for years, and Soren knew that inevitably, Lena learned what was needed to be a jarl’s helpmate and a leader among the clan. There was little that Lena was unwilling to do, often taking on chores that even thralls despised because she was strong and understood someone needed to do the task regardless of its lack of appeal.
Soren had also seen how happy Lena made his son. It was a greater happiness than he had experienced, even with the woman he had wanted. A woman who had moved on and married another man within a moon of Soren’s own marriage. Part of his resentment toward Disa came from his hurt that the woman he loved moved on so quickly and so happily. Soren still remembered the loving relationship his parents had developed, and he knew their love had made them better leaders. He and Disa had to work twice as hard to grow into such leaders because of their own hostility to one another.
For the first time in his life, Soren regretted his choices rather than resenting choices made for him. While he might be responsible for an entire homestead of people, he loved each of his children, and Ivar was the only one he had left. He did not want to sentence him to misery.
“Father?” Ivar tilted his head. “You’ve been silent an awfully long time.”
