“La dette blodet gaven vise vårt engasjement og påskynde Odins hevn,”Randvior said, and knelt before the beast. He reached blindly, grasped the handle of his weapon, and with all his might ripped the blade free. The mare teetered, then crashed to the ground.
He addressed his slaves first. “Guard these fires and the bodies of my kinsmen with your lives. There is no rest for their souls until we’ve destroyed our enemies.”
He looked to his guards next. “If one of these bodies is moved, you will all be held responsible.”
When Randvior returned to the great hall, his captains and men were waiting. He considered their grievances, mostly complaints about his delayed response to the attack. With hisface and armor streaked with wet blood, he knew he resembled one of Odin’s sons. A thrall brought a basin of water and towels to clean Randvior’s face and handsas hecounted his remaining fighters—fifty. He assigned them positions.
“I believe this night will pass uneventful—our enemies are cowards and know I have returned.” Randvior sat down on his throne and wiped his blade clean.
After guzzling his wine, he headed for the stables. His team followed. His first destination was the cabin where he honeymooned with his wife. They had left their belongings behind and he wanted to retrieve her gifts and his weapons. It would also give him an opportunity to inspect the bodies of the men who tried to kill him. He believed his mother’s petty jealousies had finally caught up with her.Soon,Lauga will stand before me and I will personally condemn her so all the Trondelag knows who she really is.
Noelle paced the earthen floor. Even under Unnr’s unwavering care, she still couldn’t accept being sequestered underground while the men defended her home. Most of the women sat in groups. The younger girls knitted together in a corner, and the elders chattered amongst themselves, throwing looks her way occasionally. It made her uncomfortable.
Lauga’s doing…Even out of sight, the woman might as well have her hands wrapped tightly around her throat—slowly choking the life out of her. Noelle folded her hands. A pretty girl she’d never seen before was seated by the guards near the stairs, staring at her. The type of girl she feared her husband admired. But she couldn’t be more than fifteen.
“Who is she?” she finally asked.
“Lauga’s protégé. The girl she wanted her son to marry.”
Some men preferred their girls young and compliant. Thank God, her father had never forced his daughters to marry at such a young age. She frowned at the thought, then she vomited onthe floor at Unnr’s feet. Noelle cradled her sour stomach with both hands.
Her friend ordered two thralls to clean up and draped an arm about her shoulders. “How long since you’ve bled?”
Her stomach groaned. “Over a month.”
“Is thejarlaware of your condition?”
“Maybe.” Noelle shrugged. “He thinks I’m sick.”
“Aye, men overlook everything important unless it smacks them between the eyes.” Unnr nodded sympathetically. “The dizziness comes and goes, eases with time.”
Noelle gawked stupidly at her. “But you have no children.”
“No living children,” Unnr corrected. “I gave birth to five sons, but none lived beyond infancy.”
Noelle wanted to slap herself in the face and deeply regretted saying a word. The strain in her friend’s voice broke her heart. She grabbed Unnr’s hand and squeezed. “Please forgive my insensitivity. I am terribly preoccupied with concerns about my husband’s safety—and this.” She hugged her stomach. “And now the discovery of my rival…”
“Forget the girl,” Unnr waved a hand dismissively. “She’s bedded more men than I have in thirty-four years. I am sure you came to the jarl’s bed unsullied.”
Heat rose in Noelle’s cheeks and she lowered her eyes. Unnr smiled and tugged Noelle’s chin upward.
“You are a rare flower growing amongst the weeds and brambles. Never mind what these women think or say. Thejarlchose well. Father Odin saw to that. And now, his heir grows inside you.” She touched her stomach affectionately.
“You need sleep.” Unnr took her to a small subchamber off the back of the main room. Clean hay covered the floor. “Time is of little concern underground. Rest and I’ll go get blankets.”
The night passed uneventfully, just as Randvior had predicted. Daylight was always a refuge. He dismounted andstomped into the hall. Thralls were setting out kettles of hot pork stew and bread. Randvior sat down at one of the lower tables and poured himself a glass of wine. He devoured a bowl of stew and signaled for a second serving.
He had reached the cabin quickly last night, and his men buried the bodies of his assailants. No prayers were offered over the unmarked graves. Let them burn.
Noelle’s gifts were safely recovered. He rubbed his chin as pleasant memories of his short-lived honeymoon filled his mind. That tiny cabin had a long history. The former owner’s family settled those lands centuries ago. Unfortunately, the last male heir died recently, and his childless widow sold Randvior the property on his promise that he would let the cabin remain.
He gulped down the last of his wine and stood. He stretched, twisting and groaning, and then eyed the cellar door.
Aud strutted through the back entrance of the hall like a rooster. “Come with me.”
Randvior and a dozen soldiers followed him outside. A group of saddled horses waited near the stable. His mother sat rigidly atop one harnessed to a long sled.
He studied her face, hoping to see an ounce of compassion. But she returned his stare with icy-cold eyes. He turned away as his gut tightened. Randvior noticed a figure wrapped in layers of thick furs and blankets inside the sled. His face brightened when he realized it was his sire. Anundr Sirgurdson grinned ear to ear. By the gods, he hadn’t seen his father in over a year. How he respected and idolized this man.
