‘Is she? She doesn’t look it,’ said Vali. ‘I mean…you look older than her.’
Agnar couldn’t argue with that. ‘Unlike me, she has lived a pampered life. She knows nothing of true hardship.’
Vali for once didn’t tease or laugh at him. ‘I remember when you first came to Aldeigja, my father presumed you were escaped thralls at first, you looked so wretched and wild… At least until your mother spoke to him.’
‘And?’ asked Agnar, confused as to why Vali would mention it. Vali’s father had been the chieftain of the Rus trading town. A man sworn to his mother’s royal family.
‘You must have thought I was pampered,’ said Vali thoughtfully. ‘The third son, without a scratch or hair on his chin. And, there you were, with your wolf cloak and wild ways.’
Hiswild wayswere an understatement—Agnar had been almost feral by the time they’d reached Aldeigja. After struggling to survive for so long, he’d learned to hunt and move like a wolf. The journey back to his mother’s homeland had been brutal and his mother had been so broken by it that she’d died shortly after their arrival.
Agnar gave a guttural huff of acknowledgement. ‘I remember you following me around like a noisy shadow, scaring all the prey away… What of it?’
Vali shrugged. ‘Only that some things are beyond our control. Both the good and the bad. I saw how you were and I knew that, if I followed you, I would find adventure and excitement—which I did.’
‘And?’
‘Sometimes happiness is a choice. You should try being happy.’
Agnar stared at his friend, then thumped him in the arm. ‘You are an idiot!’
Vali grinned. ‘But I am a happy idiot!’
Chapter Fourteen
That evening, they ate on a table set out in her usual style and Skadi was surprised Brenna and Astra were joining them.
‘Why are you here?’ she whispered to Brenna.
Brenna was quick to answer, nodding towards Agnar and Vali who stood talking with some of the warriors at the far end of the hall. ‘King Agnar asked the servants how the tables were usually laid out and he requested the same for tonight. He also insisted Astra eat with you at the head table as normal.’
‘I see,’ Skadi said with a frown, before forcing a smile and asking Astra about her day.
‘I played with the kittens and then went to help feed the animals with Brenna and Vali,’ Astra said cheerfully. ‘Then I practised writing my runes and counting with the priestess. I am getting much better! I can write the whole of the Futhark now, and recite most of their meanings—I only forgot three!’
‘Well done, you’ve worked very hard on your writing and I’m proud of you,’ she said. ‘Let’s play a game after dinner, we haven’t thrown the dice in a while.’
Astra’s eyes brightened at the prospect. ‘Yes, please! And, can we train tomorrow?’
‘Of course!’ Skadi nodded enthusiastically, trying to smother the squeeze of guilt that locked around her chest like rusty chains. So much had happened in the last two weeks that had taken her away from her daughter. Heimdall’s funeral, preparing Thrudheim for war—all of it had distanced her from her child when she’d needed her most.
Looking around the hall, she noticed that every Thrudheim banner had been removed—the golden walls and beams looked bare without her colours. Brenna had mentioned to her that the women were busy altering them to a new design chosen by Agnar. She didn’t have the strength to check on their progress—the thought of her beautiful sapphire banners being butchered to incorporate the scarlet-and-black wolf filled her with dismay.
Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Agnar heading towards them and she made her way to the central chairs. Thankfully, these wooden thrones were far more comfortable than the stone thrones and had cushioned seats. The carvings were of the cliffs and forests of Thrudheim, but were smoothly polished and smelled of beeswax.
She took her seat and waited for Agnar to join her, although she tried to appear as if she wasn’t, and continued to talk with Astra about her training and what skills she needed to develop further. Skadi was determined to speak with her about her attacking Agnar. She couldn’t allow her daughter to make such a fatal mistake again, but she also didn’t want to frighten her further about what could have been.
When his big body sat down next to hers with a creak, she took her time to acknowledge him. She shifted back into her seat and turned towards him. ‘May I ask about your plans for Thrudheim?’ she asked politely. Even though she hated to do so, she knew from experience that she’d learned more from Heimdall when she’d been meek.
Her change in attitude seemed to surprise him because he raised a brow at her polite tone. ‘What do you mean?’
She bit back an exasperated sigh, and gave a tightly pinched smile. ‘I mean…we have a shipment of silver ore for Sven almost ready. What do you plan to do with it, or all of the others that follow for that matter?’
Frustratingly, he shrugged. ‘I would imagine that Sven is no longer expecting any shipments from us. So, it really does not matter.’
She wanted to scream, but managed to control herself. ‘Itwillmatter, especially, when winter comes along and we have no grain… We import barley and wheat from Sven.’
‘I am sure others can provide it.’ Before she had time to argue with him about the higher price and difficulty of procuring grain from other kingdoms, he added, ‘I would like you to show me Thrudheim. I want to see the farms, forests, mines and landmarks of my new home.’
