“I believe that we must find a way to cohabit. Your people claimed these lands as their own at a time when others lived here. I remember my grandfather telling me stories of the Gaels who escaped the slaughter. You know this to be true. You sit on land that was taken versus earned and you have no intention of leaving it,” Osgar said.
Gunnar sat forward, “If your intent is to insult me, Osgar MacAlpin, you are approaching that line.”
“It is not an insult to state fact,” Giric said. “You asked us to speak plainly and that is what we intend to do. We will get nowhere if we mince words.”
“While I would wish to like the woman I marry, I agree with Giric entirely. If we are to live in peace, we must come to some understanding,” Osgar said.
Gunnar turned back to Giric. “And you believe these marriages create the path toward peace?”
“Aye, I do. It has brought success on the Isle of Lewis.”
“And the king is so confident, he would offer his own flesh and blood for this peace. And what of your reasons, MacDomnail? Why do you risk yours and the lives of your men for such a treaty?” Gunnar asked. “Am I to assume you are so concerned with humanity to offer your own flesh and blood? Or do you curry favour from your king?”
And there it was. The real reason Giric had, in fact, risked life and limb to cross angry waters and face such an enemy. The truth of it was his sister’s reaction to the last time Gunnar’s clansmen had landed on their shores. She’d been terrified for weeks and fixated on every possible knowledge she could gain about their way of life. At first Giric thought it was to help him plan a retaliatory attack. He later learned ’twas peace she envisioned all along. She was a deep thinker and over time made Giric see the value in such an undertaking. The king’s efforts with Olaf of Dublin merely sealed her argument.
“It may not work in every case, but I believe it is worth the time we take to explore the option,” Giric said. “The longer we remain divided, the more likely our relationship will end in bloodshed—as it always has.”
“And why did you not list yourself among those seeking a marriage? Do you have a wife already or is this drink not to your taste?” Gunnar asked him.
“My wife did not survive our first year of marriage.”
Saga grunted beside him. She would be thinking he had harmed her, and his tolerance would only go so far on that subject.
“She contracted the red fever and was sick for many weeks before succumbing to her illness.” The year since her death had been a lonely one.
“I am sorry for your loss,” Gunnar said. “But are you willing to enter into a contract yourself to forge this peace?”
Giric drew a deep breath. “Aye, I am. This is too important.”
Giric had lost much over the years to the Viking raiders, cattle, farms, and men who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their efforts here would change the face of Scotland for the better. If Giric could look past all the damage done to find a viable path forward, he prayed Gunnar could too.
“We have not raided your shores for two summers or more.”
“Nay, but you live on an island with limited resources. I have heard there is another settlement on the other side of the island. How long before your own supplies are depleted because of overpopulation here forcing you to resettle again?”
Gunnar’s brows shot up.
“Aye, I know why your people left the North. ’Tis no secret. And I am saying, if you want to stay here, let us join together and forge a peaceful way to do that.”
“Do not listen to him, Gunnar,” Saga said. “He will poison your mind with his lies.”
“Your brother has already said he will not force anyone under his care into a marriage they do not want,” Giric said to her. She seemed to be protesting now for the sake of it. “Why do you really not want to see this happen?”
“Because we do not need your marriages and your God sullying our way of life. We are strong and if we need something we take it. You Scots are weak and want to talk and talk.” She waved her hand as if to swat away an irritating insect.
“And when you do reach our shores again to take what you need, as you put it, you will be met with an army who will slaughter you. Is that what you want? Would you really prefer to die than find a peaceful way to coexist?”
She smiled without mirth. “Valhalla awaits.” With that she stood and withdrew her axe from the table. She crossed the hall in only a few strides.
Before she left the hall, she looked over her shoulder one last time locking gazes with Giric. There was a disconnect in her words and her expression. He was sure there was a more complex reason for her opposition. And some part of him could not wait to find out what it was.
When he turned back to Gunnar, the man was holding out a horn.
“Drink. I believe you will find Saga among a certain element of our people. However, she does not represent everyone and so I say we toast to a new friendship forged here today. Skol!”
Giric didn’t know what Skol meant, but assumed it meant something close to their own good health salute, Slainte Mhath and so he repeated the sentiment. Downing the cool beverage, he could not help but cringe a little at its bitterness. If nothing else, he could teach these Vikings how to make better ale.
Chapter Two
