“Yourcompanion,” Soren sneered, “assaulted a jarl’s daughter this afternoon. I will arrest and hold her until I am ready to dole out her punishment.”
“She did no such thing,” Ivar boomed, but before he said more, Lena tugged on his sleeve and stepped around him.
“I did not assault Inga. She grabbed my hair and held me underwater while I bathed. I did nothing more than defend myself.”
“What?” Ivar hissed. His father infuriated him, and Lena frustrated him. That was the key portion of the story she avoided telling him earlier. He hoped his expression told her she should have told him before he discovered it this way.
“Did she not tell you? I suppose you were both too busy. Your concubine threw your bride into a tub in front of several witnesses.”
“Jarl Soren, I heard about that,” Jan stepped forward. “Inga insulted my sister, but Lena didn’t respond. So instead of leaving her alone, Inga tried to drown her. All the women were talking about how easy Lena let Inga off.”
Soren’s glare shifted towards Jan, but he stood tall beside Ivar, placing Lena her devoted lover and her devoted brother. While Jan was still lanky, he had the height and broad shoulders of his father, which made him taller than the jarl.
“No one was talking to you, whelp.”
“Perhaps not, but there were plenty of people talking in the village today. It seems Inga got what she deserved. She’s been rude to many women, even the frú herself, while she has been here.” Jan took a deep breath that broadened his chest considerably more than anyone realized he could. He transformed from Lena’s little brother to her fiercest protector and a battle-ready warrior. “I am surprised you hadn’t heard of it by now. People have been grumbling since the day she arrived. She is an unwanted guest. Like vermin in a bed.”
“You shall lose that loose tongue of yours, boy.” Soren stepped towards Jan, who took his own step forward. Lena watched with eyes as wide as saucers as she clutched Ivar’s sleeve and kept pulling. Neither of them could do anything to protect Jan, who had sworn his oath of fealty to Soren years ago. He had decided to stand up to Soren as a man, and he would have to meet the consequences as a man. However, Tormud did not seem to see it the same way. He limped between Soren and Jan.
“Jarl, my son speaks the truth,” he turned his head towards his son, “even when he shouldn’t. Honesty is a dangerous trait at times. So is blind trust.”
“And who is it that you think is in danger, other than your foolish son?”
“As I said, honesty is a dangerous trait. I have two children and a mother to care for. I have nothing more to say.” Tormud pushed Jan towards the table and out of Soren’s reach before turning to stand before Lena. “But if I were to say more, it would be to note that the people of this village have already chosen the right one, and they don’t place their trust in one who will disappoint and betray them.”
“What are you blabbering about?” Soren curled his lip in disgust.
“He means, Father, that no one in this homestead wants Inga as their next frú. They don’t trust her, and you shouldn’t either. You want the alliance, but you aren’t willing to see that it will weaken us instead. The clan knows Lena is the best choice to help lead the next generation. You refuse to see what is clearly there for the sake of an alliance we already have.”
“An alliance that isn’t forged in blood, bonded bloodlines. Your concubine is nothing.”
Ivar lunged at his father but did not touch him.
“Do not call her that.” Ivar’s hushed tones were too quiet for anyone but his father to hear the menace. “She is my companion, and she will be my wife. If you make me choose between her and my fealty to you, you will find yourself without an heir.”
“You don’t threaten me,” his father’s voice carried the same warning.
“I don’t threaten weaker men. I only make promises.” Ivar stepped back and stood to his full height, and for the first time in his life, he saw a flash of fear in his father’s eyes.
“Keep her out of sight until Thor and his family depart.”
“With Inga.”
“Yes. With her. She will return in two months for the wedding.”
Soren and his guards departed, and Ivar pulled Lena into his arms.
“That’s two months to plan,” Ivar brushed a kiss against her temple as she wrapped her arms around him and relaxed as he enfolded her in his embrace.
“Yes. Two months to plan.” She suspected her plans would not be the same as Ivar’s, but she lacked the strength to argue again.
Six
Lena sheathed her weapon and wiped the sweat from her brow as she smiled at the woman with whom she had been sparring. The fight exhausted her, but she was satisfied with the day’s training. She had worked harder during the past three weeks than she had since she was first made a shieldmaiden. Their visitors had departed the morning after the confrontation in her home, and she had kept herself as busy as she could during the day. She refused to give Jarl Soren any reason to speak poorly of her. She had suggested to Ivar that he spend his nights in his home under his parents’ roof, but he had exploded and refused. While they still craved one another, a distance had developed between them when they were not making love. She glanced towards where Ivar and Vigo continued their mock battle. Ivar had stripped off his tunic, and his skin glistened with sweat in the warm autumn sun. She wanted to run her hands over every muscle as they twitch and bunch as she caressed him. She had the same visceral reaction whenever she saw his chiseled form. Weeks earlier, she would have indulged herself and called him away from sparring with Vigo, so they could run back to her home or into the surrounding trees. Now she avoided being seen with Ivar in public, fearing his father’s wrath.
Lena looked toward the jarl’s longhouse, where thralls would serve the evening meal soon. The long hours of daylight made time deceptive. Her belly rumbled, so it had to be early evening. Pounding hoofbeats and a woman’s voice pulled Lena’s attention away. She looked towards the gate as the most beautiful woman she had ever seen rode through. The woman’s flaxen hair had come loose from her braid, but she rode as though she had been born on horseback. When the woman reined in, Lena saw the rider was close to falling off her horse in exhaustion. Lena ran to her as the beautiful stranger listed to one side.
“Ivar!” Lena called as she grabbed the horse’s bridle to keep it steady. She heard Ivar approach and looked over in time to see Ivar catch the woman as she fell from her saddle.
