Njörd complimented her progress and sheathed the dagger at his waist. “Superb form. I’m very impressed.”
She was exhilarated, positively glowing from his effusive praise. Unlike herfaðir,her future husband wanted her to wield weapons. And wield them well.
Like the Viking shieldmaiden she’d always longed to be.
As he strode across the leafy clearing, she admired his enormous warrior body. At first, she’d been shaken by his savage appearance and terrifying aura. But now, she was inexorably drawn to him. And she longed to experience more.
Njörd returned to her side, a wolfish grin stretching across his feral face. Dappled sunlight filtered through the dense canopy of ash trees, sparkling in the brilliant blue jewels braided into his long, dark beard. He gave Elfi her shield, a current rippling up her arm as his fingers brushed against hers. “Time for our dance with swords.” Fiery challenge blazed in his fierce gaze as he slowly unsheathed his gleaming blade. “Show me your skill, Elfi of Étretat.”
With a surge of adrenaline, she thrust forward, clashing her sword against his. When he parried and lunged for a counterattack, she deftly evaded the strike, swirling into a swift downward slice that he deflected with his round wooden shield. “I shall be a shieldmaiden warrior,” she huffed, blocking and parrying his blows. “Like the legendary Valkyrie Brynhild.” Agile, graceful, and lithe as a dancer, Elfi spun and swiftly struck, disarming a stunned Njörd with a glorious, gloating grin. “And I shall defend Étretat with bow and arrow, dagger and sword. Thanks to you. MyWolf of the Nordic Seas.”
She crossed the distance between them, retrieved and returned his sword, which he sheathed beside the dagger at his waist. Encasing her own blade in the leather scabbard slung across her hips, she rose up on tiptoes to kiss Njörd’s bristled cheek. The salty taste of his sweat scintillated her senses and stirred her soul.
Feral hunger flashed in his lupine eyes. Like a wolf, he pounced to devour her.
Njörd trapped her against his magnificent body. Lowered his head to her upturned face. And possessively claimed her as his.
He traced her lips seductively with the tip of his tongue, coaxing her to open and let him in. When she parted her lips in sweet surrender. he penetrated to probe, taste, and explore.
She swam in the sea of Njörd, her quivering body swept into his engulfing, encompassing embrace. They belonged together, their fates entwined, their souls linked by the sea. As he plundered her mouth, drinking her in, her essence mingled with his. A deep ache throbbed inside her. An empty hollow that only he could fill.
He abruptly released her, stepping back and shaking his head like a lathered horse. “By the gods, your taste drives me wild. I cannot wait to make you mine.” He exhaled forcefully and stared down at her with a pierce, penetrating gaze. “Soon, Elfi. Very soon.”
Njörd strode away, fetched the bow, and slung the quiver of arrows over hisshoulder. “I’ll leave the target here, so we can use it every day for practice.” Regret tinged his smile and a gentle tone tempered his deep, gruff voice. “I won’t be able to spar with you tomorrow. I need to go into the village.” Noting how her shoulders slumped in disappointment, he countered optimistically, “But the following day, we’ll meet here again to train. I’m truly impressed with your exceptional skill.”
Elfi’s spirit soared at his accolade, her body still shaking from his amorous awakening. She inhaled deeply, struggling to regain her composure, as she smoothed the wispy strands of hair from her face that had escaped from the long braid down her back. Although she was saddened that they would not be able to practice tomorrow, she was eager to train with him the following day. “I can hardly wait. It’s wonderful to spar again. And I am most grateful that you are teaching me archery and how to hurl a dagger.” She reached for the yew bow, her gesture silently asking him to hand it to her, which he did. “Thank you again for this beautiful gift,” she said, gripping it appreciatively with her left hand. “I shall treasure it always.”
“You’re very welcome. Come, let me take you home.” He led her into the mouth of the cave, relit their extinguished torches, and escorted her through the tunnel, back to the base of the keep. “I hate to leave, but I must get back to work fortifying the castle wall. I’ll see you soon. Goodbye, Elfi.” He kissed her softly and disappeared into the darkness.
She bolted the door behind him and went upstairs to her room, where she found Sif sitting in a chair under the open window, weaving a willow basket. Elfi entered the bedchamber, displaying the fabulous gift she’d received from her betrothed. “Look what Njörd gave me—my very own bow and quiver of arrows! He’s teaching me archery…and how to hurl a dagger. Blessed Freyja, I am thrilled to be learning weaponry. And sparring again with my sword!” She unstrapped the belt at her waist, hanging the scabbard which contained her sheathed blade on a hook upon the wall.
“It makes me nervous to leave your door unlocked, so I always stay here until you come back.” Sif set her basket on thefloor and stood, scoffing at Elfi’s appearance. “Your father would be furious if he knew you slipped out of the castle to practice weaponry in the sacred grove. And that you wear your brother’s leather armor and wield his sword!” She lifted the tapestry on the wall and bolted the hidden door to the secret stairwell, then returned to help Elfi out of the lamellar armor, padded gambeson, and brown woolen breeches. “You can wash in this basin. I’ve brought lavender soap and a soft drying cloth.”
Elfi cleansed her face and upper body with the sweet-smelling floral soap and fresh water in the ceramic bowl. After she’d dried off, Sif dressed her in a clean shift and green linen gown.
“Sit here, so I can comb and rebraid your hair.” Sif eased her down onto the tufted chair at the small vanity table in the corner near the window. As she unplaited Elfi’s messy braid, her voice was a whisper of breathless anticipation. “Tell me about today’s lesson with Jarl Njörd.”
Elfi swayed in her chair, humming with delight. “He’s the perfect weapons trainer. An expert who challenges me to excel. But he’s also patient and gentle, encouraging me to continue, even when I fail. Today, he set up a target in the clearing near the sacred grove. He showed me how to position my body and how to tightly draw an arrow with my new bow. I even hit the target several times! When he wraps his arms around me, I practically swoon. His scent, his strength, his aura… he’s alluring and irresistible…” Elfi shifted in her seat so she could look at Sif, her heart racing with exhilaration. “I used to dread the thought of this arranged marriage. I was angry at being treated like a piece of property, to be traded for a political alliance with a Viking jarl. But now that I’ve met Njörd, he’s so very different from what I expected. He’s ruggedly handsome, fiercely protective and possessive, and when he kisses me… I melt in his arms.” She turned back, facing forward in her chair again, as Sif resumed her braiding. “He’s unlike my domineering, obstinate father.Njördwantsme to wield weapons. So that I may rule at his side. As anequal. A shieldmaidenwarrior, just like I have always dreamed!” She gazed at Sif in the shiny silver oval on her vanity table that reflected her appearance. “I am mysteriously drawn to him, like I have never been before. I yearn to be near him, I hunger for his touch, and when his lips touch mine…blessed Freyja, I long to lie with him. To have our bodies join as one.”
Sif purred with contentment as she hugged Elfi tight. “I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way about Bodo, the stone cutter I told you about.” Nimble fingers deftly weaving the long locks, Sif swept sections of silky hair into braids along each side of Elfi’s face. “He tells me I’m beautiful,” she whispered in breathless awe, “and that he can’t believe a woman as lovely as I could ever be interested in a lame man.” Tears brimmed in Sif’s expressive amber eyes. “They call himBodo le Boîteux— Bodo the Cripple—because his right foot is mangled and he walks with a pronounced limp. A huge stone must have crushed it, and the bones didn’t properly heal. But I don’t care about that at all. He’s kind, generous, and attentive. He wants to meet me near the bonfire at the huge wedding celebration this Frigg’s Day—when several of our widows are marrying Jarl Njörd’s warriors from Denmark. I can’t believe a free man like Bodo could ever be interested in a lowly thrall like me. But he tells me I’m beautiful. And he makes me feel alive.”
“Youarebeautiful, dear Sif. And I’m thrilled you’ve found someone who makes you so happy. When myfaðirreturns, we’ll ask him for your freedom. And even if he refuses—the Norse gods know how stubborn he can be—I will grant it once I become Countess of Étretat.” She threw her arms around Sif’s slender shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Mayhap, like Njörd and I plan to do, you and Bodo can wed on the Nordic Yule!”
Sif wiped her eyes, her pretty face aglow with hope. “That would be my greatest wish come true.” She finished plaiting the hair, joining several smaller side braids into a long, thick one which tumbled down Elfi’s back.
“Where is myamma?” Elfi wondered if her grandmother was taking her usual afternoon nap. Although Oda had alwayssupervisedle Château Blancwith stern, impeccable efficiency, now that her aging bones ached and she tired easily, she frequently rested in her private room.
“Sleeping. My mother is with her. Embroidering Lord Thorfinn’s tunics for your upcoming wedding.” Sif gathered the soap, drying cloth, and basin of water. “I must return to my chores in the kitchen.”
Elfi nodded and rose from her chair. “I shall go down to the Mermaid Cove. I’ll be back in an hour or two.” She strapped her swordShadowbaneacross her hips and tucked Dag’s flute into the gathered bodice of her deep green gown.
“Be careful. I know it’s well sheltered, but it makes me nervous that you go there alone.” Worry furrowed Sif’s concerned brow.
Elfi patted the blade at her hip. “I have my sword. And I can slip back into the castle through the cave if need be.” She fetched a lighted torch from a wall sconce out in the hall, returning to Sif’s side. “Imustgo to the Mermaid Cove. I crave the solitude and solace of the sea. I’ve been going there my entire life. It’s my sanctuary. A sacred place that speaks to my soul.” Elfi lifted the tapestry and unbolted the hidden latch. “See you soon.”
She watched as Sif reluctantly withdrew from the room. Then, closing the heavy wooden door behind her, Elfi slipped into the secret stairway. And headed to the Mermaid Cove.
Chapter 9
