“We don’t have time for that. We need to leave before more arrive.”
“Och haud yer wheest, ye horrid mon. There is a moment to spare for a hug. The other three are already dead.” Lorna tossed over her shoulder as she brushed Lena’s hair from her face and looked her friend over. “No worse for wear. Gather some belongings, and we’ll be off.”
Lena looked at the dead men and nodded once before pivoting on her heel and going back to her chamber. No one spoke as Lena prepared to run from the only home she had ever known, and Lorna and Rangvald removed the bodies. As Lena followed her friends outside, she paused for a moment. Guilt filled her knowing she would leave bloodstains on the floor. She was certain her father and brother would panic.
“Don’t worry. Brenna is the one who alerted us that you left and were being followed. She’ll explain to Tormud and Jan, and she’ll make sure Eindride follows close behind.” Rangvald spoke over his shoulder as they crept toward the village stables. Sven greeted them with three saddled horses.
“I’m sorry on behalf of my family, Lena. We—” Sven raised his hands and shrugged, unable to come up with anything else to say.
“I know, Sven. You and your brothers, and Signy too, are nothing like Inga. It amazes me that it’s possible that she and Signy pass as twins but are as different as rock and rain.” Lena offered him a sad smile as Sven handed over the reins.
Rangvald, Lorna, and Lena rode out from the homestead, the sounds of the feast left in their wake.
Twelve
Ivar considered drowning his sorrows in ale and mead, hoping he could get so drunk that no one would expect him to perform husbandly duties. But each sip of alcohol soured in his stomach and made him want to heave. Seated beside Inga, people made toasts not truly to congratulate the couple but as excuses for Ivar’s clansmen and women to feast in excess. He wondered if any of them drank to console themselves, knowing what a miserable life they would one day have when he and Inga ruled the tribe.
“Drink up, husband,” Inga purred beside his ear. “Drink and be merry.”
Ivar dipped his chin but refused to even glance at Inga. She had been solicitous to the point of absurdity, and Ivar had only expended the minimum amount of courtesy expected of him. He oversaw the serving of Inga’s meal and her first cup of ale. After that, he turned his attention to Eindride, but his friend had slipped away. He tried to spot Eindride and Brenna, for whom he suspected his friend abandoned him, but he could not see them either.
First Lena walked away. Now I can’t see Eindride anywhere. Neither person who I need most is near to support me. Neither of them can bear to see this sham. Where’s Vigo? He’s not here either.
“Husband,” Inga’s hand glided along the inside of his thigh, making its way higher until Ivar seized her wrist. The frailty of her bones made him careful not to hurt her, but it reminded him of how different she was from Lena. Lena’s wrists were narrow too, but he never felt as if she might break. “I believe they will expect us to retire soon. I confess to needing some quiet.”
“By all means, retire now. No one will disturb you.” Ivar tried not to snarl, but Inga’s gasp told him he failed.
“No one will disturb us,” Inga hissed. “You will retire with me.”
Inga’s demand caught Ivar’s attention. He squeezed her wrist mercilessly before tossing it away from him.
“Unless you would like to learn whether your brother’s warning was true, I suggest you never, ever dictate to me what I will do or where I will go. Or what I won’t do or won’t go either.”
“How dare you?”
“I dare because I can. Remember, I am your husband now. You belong to me to do with as I choose. And remember, I may send you back.” Ivar pushed away from the table and swept his mug into his hand before losing himself in the crowd.
“Son, it is time. You can’t avoid it any longer.”
Ivar turned to find his mother standing just behind him. Her sympathetic smile and the sadness around her eyes tempted Ivar to collapse into her arms as he had when he was a child, but at the same time, it made him want to run far, far away. His mother was aware of the mistake that had been made. Ivar would even venture that his mother tried to intercede on his behalf. But that would have only made his father more emphatic to see the betrothal through. Now they expected him to bed the woman who insisted on marrying a man who did not want her. She wanted the position and the power more than she wanted the man. More than she cared if Ivar wanted her.
“She’s gone to your chamber already,” Disa offered when Ivar looked towards the head table. Signy, Ulfhild and Inga have gone to prepare Inga for your wedding night.
Ivar’s mouth went dry, and he took an unconscious step back. He looked about wildly, hoping against hope that an excuse to flee would materialize; alas, there was no reason for him to remain. He noticed that many people were looking at him with sly grins, and a few bawdy comments floated on the air. The people gathered for the feast now expected him to feast on his bride. He nodded at Disa and turned away. He made his way through the crowd as people clapped him on the back and tossed suggestions for how to pleasure his young bride. It tempted him to tell them that his bride was more likely to teach him than the other way around.
He paused when he came to the door of his chamber. He listened for a moment but could not make out any of the words coming from the space he had only shared with Lena. Ivar knocked once and pushed the door open, but before he closed it, his father followed him in, along with his mother. Ivar wanted to groan, knowing there would be an audience.
Ivar nodded to his new mother-in-law and sister-in-law. The very notion that he had more family because he spoke words he could not even remember seemed ridiculous. He counted among his few blessings that Inga’s parents drew the line at her father and brothers being present for the bedding.
“Hello, my love,” Inga whispered as she stepped before Ivar. She ran her hands over his chest, and Ivar attempted to hide his revulsion at both her words and her touch. When Inga lifted onto her toes to kiss Ivar, he stepped away. Ivar walked to the fire and used the poker to push apart the logs, causing the blazing flames to splutter and dim. He moved to each of the candles and blew them out.
“I thought it might be easier for you. Less embarrassing for my young bride.” Ivar’s words were a soft-spoken taunt, a dare to see if Inga would admit to her experience. Inga nodded once, but her seductive smile slid, and a cold look of calculation took its place. She stepped toward Ivar once more, this time pressing her body against his as she looked up expectantly.
“I am your eager student, my love.” Inga purred, but the sound grated against Ivar’s nerves as much as her words. Everyone present knew there was no love between them. She wound her hand through his hair and pressed none too gently until Ivar bent his head. It was Inga who initiated the kiss, but Ivar did not pull away. He rested his hands on her waist and tried to clear his mind as Inga’s and Lena’s faces danced before his closed eyes, Ivar forced himself to relax as he tried to persuade himself that kissing Inga did not make him unfaithful to Lena, that she would understand the situation. Ivar knew Lena did, but it did not make his guilt any less suffocating.
Perhaps if I pretend that it is Lena I’m kissing then I can go through with this.Ivar conjured a picture in his mind from the summer when he took Lena on a picnic near the shoreline. Ivar and Lena had stripped and raced each other into the water, swimming and making love before emerging to lay naked on the sandy shore. They had fed each other, spending more time kissing than eating. They eventually abandoned their meal in exchange for devouring one another. Ivar remembered how erotic it had been to watch pleasure sweep Lena away with pleasure as his tongue worked her pearl.Yes. This might work. If I imagine it’s Lena instead, then maybe I can get through this. I cannot escape now. Not with my parents and her family here. Thank gods I put the sheath on the last time I slipped outside to relieve myself.
However, there was an obstacle Ivar seemed unable to overcome. While his mind was willing to imagine it was Lena he was kissing, his body refused to do the same. His body did not stir at all as Inga’s hands roamed over him. When her hand slid to his rod, her gasp was from the shock of finding nothing hard rather than from finding something intimidating. Ivar smothered it by thrusting his tongue into her mouth, but he gagged at the sour taste that met him. His hands attempted to distract him, but Inga’s body was so different from Lena’s. Her hips were broader and her backside more generous, but not in a way that aroused him. Her lack of physical activity showed in her physique, and it only reminded him that she was spoiled and unaccustomed to hard work. His mind flooded with images of Lena training and working alongside his mother, both backbreaking work at times. As his other hand slid up to her breast, the flesh was not supple and round like Lena’s. Instead, they felt deflated and small compared to Lena’s. While Lena had a lithe form, she was well endowed. Once again, the differences between the woman he wanted and the woman he stood before filled his mind and made his head ache.
