“You were right all along about Einar. He was playing both sides and he played me. Short-Beard had no intention of attacking you, in fact, he had intended to invite you to his hall and discuss boundaries for Islay.”
Gunnar was on his feet in an instant. “I’ll send him to Niflheim this day.”
Giric didn’t know where that was, but he imagined it was not pleasant. “How did you discover this, Magnus? And how does it affect us striking an alliance against the English king?”
“Our kin caught Einar in Dublin with King Olaf, convincing him to act against us and the Scots and side with the English instead.”
Giric glanced at Gunnar, his face was a deep scarlet, yet he did not speak. The man was always quick with a quip, but right now, he was frighteningly silent. Giric needed to think of something to get them back on track.
“Where is Einar now?” Giric asked.
“In irons on Islay. Bjorn will not sleep until I return. I came here to warn you in case any damage had already been done.”
Giric thought back over the past days and weeks. Damage done? There had been an incredible amount of damage done and there were many prejudices to tackle and that would take some time. His cousin Naywin’s reaction came to mind. What would it take for her to accept Saga? Would she ever? Was he asking too much?
But there had been progress too. Many of his serving staff now openly spoke with Saga and even Magnus’ current demeanour was different from when they’d first met. This was the correct path. Gunnar would have to now see the value in this alliance. For all of their sakes.
“Return and keep Einar secure.” Gunnar’s voice was low and deliberate. “I will follow in a few days and then you and I will visit Olaf in Dublin and share the results of these meetings. Then we will visit Snorri Short-Beard, return his treasure, and shake hands or feast in Valhalla.”
Magnus nodded and grasped arms with his brother. “I will await your ship on the horizon. Leave Einar to me.”
“Your news is valuable, Magnus. Will you rest before you return?”
“Nay.” he said with a grin. “I will take a fresh horse and be on my way.”
Giric grasped the man’s arms and said, “You are welcome to any but mine and my wife’s.”
It was the least he could offer. And now he must find Saga.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Saga tore at her dress. She’d had it with all the transformations she’d endured and she’d had it with Scottish dresses. Struggling out of her gown and pulling at her pinned hair, she was in the middle of the chamber stark naked when Giric entered. His jaw dropped when he saw her.
“Saga, what are you doing?”
“I’m dressing the way I always have, in my own clothes, made by my own hand.”
She pushed him aside and flung open the trunk that held her belongings. She grabbed her leather trews and fur vest, belt and boots, and ties for her hair.
She dressed as she had a thousand times before and cared not that this time she had an audience. As she donned each item, her heart lifted more and more. By the time she was clothed and starting to braid her hair she heard a sigh behind her.
“What is wrong now? Do you regret taking a Viking wife?”
She turned to look at him when he didn’t answer.
“Well?”
“I do not regret one moment of my time with you since we met. You are in my heart for now and forever. But I do regret that you feel like you had to wear clothes that did not make you comfortable or feel like yourself.”
How was it he could peer deep into her soul?
“These clothes represent who I am.”
“I know that. And you are free to wear whatever you like.”
“Even when the king arrives on the morrow?”
“Aye, especially then. I want you by my side, Saga. I want you to be proud to be my wife and of who you are and what we are trying to do.”
