Loud denials and curses came from her people beyond the doors. Eventually a voice which sounded like Oddmund’s responded. ‘You lie! You have murdered our Queen! We shall burn this hall to the ground and make it her funeral pyre—withyouas her offering!’
Skadi quickly shouted back a reply, trying to keep as much pride in her voice as possible, ‘I am alive, Oddmund! I have agreed to marry him.’ She said nothing more, hoping he would understand that she’d been forced to make this agreement.
Already she was trying to think of a way out of it.
So, what if I am forced to marry him? I can easily become a widow for the second time!
She just needed the protection of her men first.
Agnar turned back towards her and gave her a strange smile, as if he already knew that she wished to end his life and for some reason did not care.
Did he really think this idiotic plan would work?
As soon as they opened the doors, he would be overwhelmed and she would order him killed, regardless of whether they were married or not.
‘Where is the Gothi?’ Agnar demanded, climbing down the hay cart and landing with a heavy thud beside her. ‘We need to be married before we open the doors.’
‘Here!’ said a woman, who was dressed in the many-feathered cloak of a Gothi. She carried a staff decorated with shells and animal bones. She didn’t appear frightened, so she must be a part of his war band, or at least had agreed to this voyage and plan.
Skadi scowled at her bad temperedly and placed Astra, who’d been trembling beneath her arm, back into Brenna’s care.
‘What kind of Gothi allows a forced marriage to take place?’ Skadi grumbled at the woman, who shrugged in response.
‘A well-paid one… Besides, is this forced, or did you not agree to it?’
Skadi cursed beneath her breath, but the Gothi’s smug smile was answer enough. An unwelcome marriage was different to a forced one and they were both old enough to realise the difference, which was nothing to do with morals and more to do with how other men might judge it.
Skadi turned to face Brenna and Astra. ‘Keep hold of her and run at the first sign of trouble,’ she said quietly in Brenna’s ear as she hugged her, in what she hoped appeared to be a comforting embrace.
Brenna said nothing, understanding the need for secrecy. Her friend had helped bring Astra into the world and she would gladly defend her to the death, as she’d already proven. Skadi was grateful to have such a friend.
Agnar continued to stare at her, obviously growing impatient, but being too proud to demand she join him. Skadi walked slowly to the centre of the hall and stood opposite him in front of the Gothi, who held out her staff in preparation for the ceremony.
A cold draught whispered against her bare legs. Suddenly self-conscious, she crossed her arms over her chest to cover the outline of her nipples and tried to appear as dignified as she could despite the drying blood on her leg, and the fact that she wore so little and was beginning to shiver.
Agnar stared at her for a moment, as if irritated by the sight of her. Then he tossed back the wolf’s head that snarled above his eyes with a jerk and quickly untied and removed his wolfskin cloak with a sweep of his muscular arms.
He draped it around her shoulders before she had time to refuse. The musk of wolf and man enveloped her and, although she welcomed the warmth and cover, she felt uncomfortable wearing it. Thankfully, he’d not placed the beast’s head on top of her own. She wasn’t sure how she would feel about wearing it like that—it would be as if he owned her, had claimed her life, as he had the wolf’s.
Her discomfort was only increased when he demanded, ‘Give me your hand.’
No kindness or compassion, but then she had never expected any, so she held out her hand, allowing her anger and resentment to show in her expression. ‘I warn you now, Agnar. I may promise to be your wife and Queen. But I will not protect you from Sven.’
Not again.
Despite his obvious resentment towards her, shehadprotected him all those years ago. Heimdall would have happily killed the boy who dared demand that he return his bride—and Sven would have welcomed it as well. It had been well known even then that he felt no loyalty or love for his half-brother.
Agnar raised a brow in amusement, then took her hand in his own in a hard grip as if he were afraid she would try to shake him off. ‘I do not expect you to protect me from our enemies… That is my duty.’
She snorted at that. ‘Sven isyourenemy, not mine.’
Agnar shook his head with a derisive snort, but didn’t answer her. Turning towards the Gothi, he snapped, ‘Get on with it!’
The Gothi began the ceremony, shaking her staff and calling upon the gods and ancestors to witness the union of their marriage.
Vali appeared at Skadi’s side and held out Thrudheim’s ancestral sword. He must have picked it up off the floor in the King’s chamber. She took it from him with a heavy heart and offered it to Agnar, the blade flat and resting on the palms of her hands. ‘The sword of Thrudheim. It has been in my family for seven generations. Each one of them was a wise and mighty king.’ She glared at him over the steel, the runes etched down its centre glistening with firelight. ‘Do not be the first to lose it.’
Agnar gripped the sword lightly with both hands and met her eyes. ‘I have no ancestral sword to give in exchange. But this will always be safe in my possession.’ He took it from her and her heart ached to let it go.
