Now that the feast was over, thralls cleared the tables and brought them back inside the castle. Warriors and knights drifted toward timbered huts and vast longhouses. Joyous, weary guests headed home to the village.
While servants escorted Oda and Jarl Rikard into the castle, Thorfinn and an attendant approached Skadi and Skjöld.
The lord ofChâteau Blancgestured to the silver-haired chamberlain at his side. “Leif will show you to your private quarters in the north tower,” Thorfinn said amicably. “I have sheltered Lugh and Ildris on the lower level, Luna and Njáll on the second floor, and your chambers are on the upper level, overlooking the sea.”
Thorfinn gripped Skjöld’s forearms with a warm smile. “I’m glad you were here, Skjöld. Dag would have been pleased as well.” He bowed at the waist and kissed Skadi’s hand. “It was an honor to meet you, my lady. I am delighted you and Skjöld will marry in my castle, alongside Elfi and Njörd, and Bodo and Sif.” Adjusting his elegant black cloak as he straightened his back, Thorfinn nodded to Leif and offered a parting smile to Skadi and Skjöld. “Seeyou both in the Great Hall fordagmál.Sleep well.”
* * * *
Leif led them across the castle bailey to the north tower where moonlight glimmered on the Narrow Sea far below the white chalk cliffs upon which the castle had been built. Lighting their way with his torch, he nodded to the two armored guards, who allowed them entry.
“The stairs are at the end of the hall,” the diligent chamberlain said respectfully as he led them down the dark corridor where beeswax candles in metal sconces on the stone walls illuminated the dim interior and emitted a soft, sweet scent.
At the top of the wooden stairwell, Leif unlocked a heavy oak door which opened onto a vast chamber taking up the entire upper level of the stone tower.
Slivers of moonlight streamed across the gleaming pinewood floor, pouring in from narrow open windows on three sides of the fortress. Each framed a magnificent view of glimmering waves crashing against white chalk cliffs that glowed like iridescent moonstone under the incandescent light. The salty scent of the sea wafted into the room on a cool autumn breeze.
Along the southern wall, to the far right of the entrance door, a banked fire flickered in the stone hearth, sending up fragrant wisps of pine which mingled with the briny air. Additional logs were neatly stacked in a wrought-iron rack nearby.
Near the north wall, a large bed was covered with blankets and furs. At its side, a chamber pot was discreetly tucked under a small oak table and chair. A heavy wooden trunk stood at the foot of the inviting bed.
Leif lit the beeswax candle on the bedside table with his torch as Skjöld and Skadi followed him into the spacious room. “There is a basin with fresh water and chamomile soap for washing,” he said politely. “Extra blankets lie in the trunk at the foot of the bed.” He stoked the fire with an iron poker, then set it beside the hearth and prepared to leave. “Should you need anything, send one of the guards into the castle with a message, and I shall attend to your request.” He paused at the doorway and indicated the wooden bar leaning against the wall. “You may lockthe door from the inside with that.” Leif inclined his head and bid them good night. “Góða nótt.”
When the heavy door closed behind the chamberlain, Skjöld bolted it with the thick wooden bar. He removed his white bearskin and sheathed weapons, securing them on metal hooks in the wall.
Skadi unfastened her cloak and draped it over the back of the chair. She gestured to the western window, her heady voice soft as silk. “Moonlight…just like last night.”
A surge of lust slammed into him like the waves crashing against the cliff.
She removed her gown, laid it on the table, and washed with the chamomile soap while Skjold shed his clothing and boots. When she’d finished, she reclined on the bed, her long blonde hair lustrous as spun gold. She looked up at him, a seductive smile stretching across her full lips. “There’s even a moonbeam across the bed…”
Skjöld never took his eyes from her luminous bare skin as he washed in the basin. He quickly dried with the linen cloth, then knelt over her on the bed, leaning down to claim her irresistible lips.
She opened for him, allowing his tongue to penetrate and probe, a moan escaping her arched throat.
He kissed her neck and shoulders, eager lips seeking her soft breasts. With the tip of his tongue, he traced each nipple, drawing them into his mouth and sucking mercilessly until she groaned and writhed underneath him.
Skjöld worshipped her with his mouth, lips grazing her flat belly until his tongue was between her long, lithe legs. He savored her tangy taste, tormenting him with nearly unbearable desire. Rising onto his knees, he stared down into her desperate eyes as he slowly licked two long fingers. When he returned his tongue to the sensitive bud between her thighs, he thrust his slick fingers into her warm, wet depths.
Like the waves crashing against the cliffs, Skjöld rocked Skadi, rubbingher little nub with the tip of his nose, warm lips, and swirling tongue, penetrating her with two relentless fingers until she shuddered and convulsed in release.
Her legs still quivering, she gasped up at him. “By the gods, that was sublime.”
Throttled with desire, Skjöld couldn’t even speak.
He positioned himself between her legs, parting them roughly with his own. He slid calloused hands under her smooth hips and tilted them up. Casting her one last feral look, he plunged inside her, thrusting even deeper when she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him further in with the tight grip of her thighs.
His lust primal, fierce, and raw, he pounded her moist flesh. Her velvety grip was plush and thick, contracting rhythmically with each of his thrusts, until he arrowed in deep and erupted, filling her with his soul and his seed.
After a few moments, his body slipped from hers, and he lay down at her side. He cradled her over his chest and kissed her soft hair. “That was intense. Your taste and scent drove me wild.”
“Mmm,” she purred, suckling his neck. She nuzzled the dark blond hair on his chest and deeply inhaled. “I love yours, too.”
He stroked her smooth, silky hair. “I am so glad myfaðirgave us his blessing to wed on the winter solstice.” He kissed the top of her head, resting over his heart. “Haldor will be delighted to hear the news about Tryggvi. Now he can wed Úlvhild.” He hugged her tight. “He’s been trying to get her to say yes for nearly twenty winters. But she’s already refused him twice. I hope this time, she accepts.”
Skadi lifted her head to look at him. “If she loves him, why does she refuse?”
“Because she cannot bear Haldor an heir.” He pulled her into his arms. “Úlvhild was married once. Many years ago. She carried—and lost—three babes. Her husband divorced her and married a fertile wife. That’s when Úlvhild became avölva.”
