Inga rode out with none of the attention paid to her when she arrived. She had been a constant source of tension. Everyone was aware of the pain the situation caused Ivar and Lena, but Inga had been awkward and unkind to everyone she encountered. She had attempted to exercise more authority than she had. She had even disagreed with Disa in public on more than one occasion, attempting to insist her way was better than the experienced frú’s. Disa had tolerated her for her husband’s and son’s sakes along with their tribe’s, but she detested Inga just as much as everyone else. She had always hoped Lena would one day replace her, and now that she was on better terms with her husband, Disa had shared just how better suited Lena was. Soren and Disa spent many nights lying in bed talking after making love, something they had never done before. They had always rolled over and gone straight to sleep, or at least pretended to, but now they discussed their tribe’s future. They had to send Inga home, and they needed Lena to marry Ivar. Disa and Soren also accepted that they would have to trust Ivar to ally with Harold and Rangvald.
Unfortunately, the weather broke within an hour of Inga’s attempted departure. There was no option but for them to turn back. Einar was unwilling to risk Inga’s life, and he made another sound argument to Soren. If Inga died while traveling home after being rejected, it would undoubtedly spur Thor into a rage. Soren drew the line in allowing Inga to return to his home. Ivar had publicly renounced her, and the agreement to a trial marriage ended. He had been tempted to insist Magnus and his family take Inga in, but he did not want Einar and Inga spending any nights under the same roof. He sent Inga to stay with two widowed sisters and ordered her to remain sequestered away. Her last days in Soren’s homestead would be like her early ones, locked away and out of sight. He had wondered if he was being too harsh, but his daily visits to see Lena confirmed he made the right choice. Soren watched as it was Ivar’s turn to waste away. Ivar ate little while Lena fought a fever that did not release its hold for more than a week. Disa shared in private that she feared Lena might never awaken if the fever continued to ravage Lena’s weak body.
It took a fortnight before the weather cleared enough for anyone to attempt to travel. When someone shook Ivar, he was ready to swing his fist before he realized it was Rangvald who stood beside him.
“I’ve come to collect my sister and to offer my apologies. Words can’t express my regret and hurt that Lena has suffered at my sister’s hands. Ivar, I don’t know what more to say.”
Ivar looked up at his friend’s tired face, and he took in Rangvald’s travel-stained clothes. Movement caught his eye, and he glanced over to see Lorna sitting on the opposite side of the bed. Ivar had slept in the bed beside Lena once his mother said it would not harm her. Lorna perched on the edge and was whispering to Lena.
“Thank you, Rang. This wasn’t your doing. You and your sister are different people. You aren’t to blame.”
“I bring other news. Ivar, my father and Harold are dead.”
“What?” Ivar could not believe what he was hearing. “How?”
“Harold was on patrol on our northern border when cattle thieves attacked. He thought to take on the lot of them instead of waiting for me and Sven with some of our other warriors to encircle them. My father did not die with such glory. He caught an argue and didn’t recover.” Rangvald glanced at Lorna then Lena. “A fever took him.”
Ivar nodded as he continued to watch Lena. Her hand was once more in his, just as it was most of each day. He had done everything to care for her, refusing help from anyone but his mother and Brenna.
“Ivar, I don’t think you realize what this means.” Rangvald waited for Ivar to look up, but when his friend did not, Rangvald continued. “I am now jarl. Our alliance is through me, not my father, not Harold, and certainly not Inga.”
Ivar nodded but he could not muster any relief knowing Rangvald would not hold him to the marriage. He could not stir any well wishes for Rangvald.
“Lena, ye must wake up. I need ye to be there for ma wedding. Rangvald says he has a different plan, but I insist ye must be there.” Lorna squeezed Lena’s other hand. “If it werenae for ye and Ivar, Rang and I might never have admitted we love each other. I saw what ye have with Ivar, and I wanted it, too. If ye hadnae let me stay here, I would have run even further away. Besides, Signy says we will be a family one day. Ye have to live to make that happen.”
Ivar looked up at Lorna’s last words and raised his eyebrows.
“Aye, Signy says she will have a lass one day who will be part of yer family. She says she willna be alive to see it, but the gods have shown her for years. She couldnae say aught before, but the lass will wed yer son. A son ye dinna have with Inga for sure. She says she sees Lena beside ye.”
Ivar swallowed as he leaned over to kiss Lena’s cheek.
“Do you hear that, my sweet one? You have to live. If Signy says it, then it must be true. Though I’m not convinced that marrying off my son before he’s born is something I will consider.” Ivar scowled as he thought about how Lena came to be so ill. His poorly arranged marriage was to blame. His scowl dropped when Lena squeezed his hand. He looked down to see her lashes flutter. “Did you hear me, Lena? Can you hear me?”
“She squeezed ma hand, too!” Lorna grinned. “Lena? Are ye awake, lass? Really awake?”
“Mmmm,” a soft agreement came from Lena as she looked around, searching for Ivar. When he came into focus, her smile was the one Ivar remembered. It blinded him with its brilliant happiness. “Water.”
Lena’s voice was croaky from lack of use, but she was aware of everything that happened around her. She sipped water as she listened to Ivar and her friends, but she grew tired easily. Rangvald and Lorna were to wed in the spring, and she intended to be there, but Ivar and Rangvald had come to their own sort of alliance. They wanted to use the end of the trial marriage to their advantage. Ivar would speak to his father, but they would maintain the pretense of a hostile truce. Their other enemies and allies would not learn that they were friends in the hopes that they would each gather information their neighbors would not share if they were aware that the two most powerful tribes in the Trondelag had joined forces. They would only come to one another’s aid if they truly needed it, but in the meantime, they would share anything they learned that might affect one another. Rangvald and Ivar insisted it was not possible for Lorna and Lena to not attend one another’s weddings without the plan falling apart.
Lena managed another smile; this one directed at Lorna. Both women were committed to finding ways to see one another’s wedding, even if they did not stand beside one another.
Rangvald and Lorna left with Inga two days later, but it was a month before Lena was well enough to be on her feet. Winter had set in, and by the time the healers gave Lena a clean bill of health to get married, she feared Rangvald and Ivar had been the ones to see the future. She did not expect Lorna to make it to her wedding. It saddened her that the woman besides Brenna who she trusted and liked most would not be there. She prayed she would attend Lorna’s in the spring.
Twenty
“Hurry or you will be late to your own wedding,” Brenna laughed. She rubbed her rounded belly as she watched Disa finish braiding Lena’s hair while the bride herself struggled to pull on the fur-lined boots that were a wedding present from Ivar. Her shoulder twinged with pain as she strained, but she felt better than she had in weeks. She and Ivar had finally been able to move forward with their wedding plans; knowing they could wed on the winter solstice had motivated Lena to recover quickly. She had been a model patient and recuperated faster than anyone expected. Tormud wanted her to move home once she was well enough to leave the jarl’s longhouse, but Ivar had been adamant that she remain. The chamber she occupied was now theirs, and he joked that he was afraid she would slip away if he did not keep her nearby.
“I don’t envy Ivar having to go digging for that sword. I’m happy to have my father hand me his dagger,” Lena laughed as she pictured Ivar, digging through snow and dirt at the catacombs for the ancestral sword Soren buried at his birth for the wedding ritual. She did not find anything boyish about Ivar anymore, except perhaps his smile. If she could have rescued him from the rite of passage that supposedly made him a man, she would have done so.
Lena looked down at the rings in her hand and smiled as she remembered her mother wearing hers. Her father’s eyes had shone the night before when he passed along the set of rings he had exchanged with her mother all those years ago. She traced the intricate scrolls on the metal, and it made her think of the tattoo on Ivar’s arm. She recalled how he had gritted his teeth and born the pain of the serpent being painted into his skin several years ago. He and Eindride had received matching tattoos just before their first voyage as captains. She had wanted one too, but Ivar had talked her out of it, saying he could not imagine anything marring her skin. She should have known then that he was attracted to her, but it had taken a drunken kiss for them to both realize their shared feelings. That night seemed both ages in the past and only a moment ago. Her heart pounded as she realized that this day would be the beginning of a new set of memories that only she and Ivar would share. She wondered about the children she would one day bear and what their life would be like once they led their tribe together. She prayed that they would have a long and happy life together. Her parents’ time had been cut short, and while her father had a companion to ease his loneliness, she was certain he would never remarry. She did not want the marriage Soren and Disa had for so many years, and while she did not truly think they would, a small fear resided in the back of her mind that she and Ivar might one day drift apart. She pushed that aside as Disa finished decorating her hair with ribbons. She wished the weather permitted flowers for her hair, but she was unwilling to wait for something so trivial to marry Ivar.
They were marrying on the winter solstice, the longest night of the year. Brenna had teased her that Ivar picked this day so he had time to make up for their nights apart. It was nearly sunset, and their ceremony would take place as the sun dipped into twilight. After the marriage vows would be the ritual solstice celebration, then a feast to celebrate the two occasions. She and Ivar had already agreed they would escape as soon as no one would notice. Lena wanted to run away the moment Thor’s hammer was placed in her lap, using the fertility ritual as an excuse to appreciate the gods’ good will. Ivar had begrudgingly convinced her that they should not do that as the future jarl and frú, as their people were expecting to celebrate with them for longer. He agreed to leave after the first pitcher of mead was gone. Lena suspected that would be within the half hour after they were seated at the feast.
Lena spotted Ivar through the crowd as she approached the altar. It was not difficult to do since he was one of the tallest men in the village, but she was also drawn to him like a loadstone. She could have spotted him among the densest mass of people. As she approached, a slight movement near the trees caught her attention. She looked over in time to catch a glimpse of a small cloaked figure climbing into the tree followed by a large one. Two sets of shining teeth told her that Lorna and Rangvald had joined them and were smiling to share their well wishes. She and Ivar had done the same thing only weeks earlier since Rangvald decided he would not wait until spring to make Lorna his wife if Ivar was to make Lena his bride that winter. Lena had threatened to travel alone if Ivar tried to refuse her. Her heart had ached that she was unable to stand closer to her dear friend, but she had been filled with joy when she saw how happy the couple was to be wed at last.
Now her friends shared in her excitement. When she met Ivar’s gaze, she tipped her head minutely toward the trees, and Ivar nodded. He had seen Rangvald and Lorna, too. The ceremony proceeded in a trance-like state for the couple, both aware and dazed at the same time. The rest of the world slipped away into a blur, but their eyes locked and never shifted as they pledged themselves to one another. Electricity flowed between them as they recited their vows and exchanged the rings Lena slipped onto the hilt of Ivar’s new sword. It felt like the briefest of moments before the village shaman announced they were wed. The cheers that went up were the loudest that had been heard at a wedding in generations. The merriment was so unlike the dismal acceptance of Ivar’s trial marriage. People had cheered then, because it was expected. These felicitations were heartfelt.
Ivar removed Lena’skransenbefore he kissed her, refusing to be rushed as he absorbed the taste, scent, and feel of his bride. He had dreamed of this day since he came into his manhood and realized that he craved Lena in a way that far exceeded friendship. He knew then that they were destined for one another despite the trials they had experienced. They had spent so much of their time avoiding admitting their love aloud, but now he would never waste a day professing his feelings. He would tell her morning, noon, and night.
