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Prologue

The air was sweet in the Highlands on this day, this most special day. There was a village nestled in a copse of trees that was picturesque and idyll. Its people were humble and strong, like most Highlanders. They were born from salt and smoke, their blood hearty, their muscles powerful. Never shy of hard work, they tilled the fields and tended to the animals, taming the wild Highlands and enduring the sometimes harsh storms that swept through. Over the years, Vikings had colonized the Highlands. There were many clans that now had Viking blood within them, and there was one man in this village who most people thought must have been descended from the Vikings.

He stood at nearly seven feet tall, as muscular as an ox, and the ground trembled when he walked. The mere sight of him was enough to inspire fear into anyone, but as far as he knew, his blood was entirely that of the Highlands. The Highlands could produce fierce warriors just as easily as Norway could. When people looked at him, they saw a warrior, a giant, a man who would never let anything get in his way. The villagers were pleased to have a man like him among them as it usually dissuaded others from attacking them, and any who did attack were swiftly dealt with. He wielded a sword with great prowess, and glory had been earned many times over. He was also a surly man to those who kept their distance. They were already scared of him, and his brash manner did not help endear him to strangers. He guzzled down ale and ate huge chunks of meat for dinner, for his appetite was one that befit a man of such stature.

There were rumors that giants had been a part of his bloodline. There had always been stories that these monstrous creatures lived deep in the mountains and that one day, a Highland woman had fallen in love with one and bore the child—a child so great that it killed her as she was giving birth. Many people dismissed this as simply a story that was told to keep children awake at night, but these people had never seen a man like this. When they did, it was far easier to believe in giants than it had been before.

But on this particular day, this particular man did not have thoughts of war on his mind, and he was not looking to create a dispute with anyone. In fact, he was troubled, and nerves fluttered in his stomach. Long auburn hair fell down to his shoulders, and a thick beard bristled with every breath. He wore a tight tunic and focused his gaze on the horizon. These sensations were unfamiliar to him. He never felt this nervous, not even before battle.

Then again, in some ways, this day was more important than any battle he had ever taken part in. This day he was going to meet his wife, and his life was going to change completely.

Although he had never met Bea before, he had fallen in love with her from the mere description. She was said to be as lovely as a summer’s day, with eyes like the great lakes he swam in and a lilting laugh that was as soft as a gentle breeze. He was a hard man, but that didn’t mean he had no room for tenderness in his heart. In many ways, he needed affection more than other people. Others were so frequently scared of him that rarely had anyone been close to him. Most people were intimidated by his stature, and many women had recoiled from his touch because they were so afraid.

But it wasn’t right for a man as powerful and impressive as him to not have a wife, so a marriage had been arranged. By all accounts, Bea was eager for the union to take place, and he liked the fact that she wasn’t afraid. It made him think that although she may not have been his equal in stature, she might well have matched him in temperament. His body was taut with anticipation, and there was a lump in his throat.

Then there was an announcement that she was appearing.

From his height, he had a wide vantage point. Sometimes it was as though he could see the whole world, and he saw her approach. Breath rushed out of him, long and deep. She was still too far away to make out any exact features of her face, but he could see the way she walked with grace, the way her white dress flowed in the soft breeze, and he immediately knew that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His arms prepared to hold her. His lips prepared to kiss her. His heart prepared to be filled with love. A smile widened on his face with every step as she approached closer, but then something changed in the air.

A cry of warning burst out like a crack of thunder. An arrow slammed into the ground beside her. She broke into a run, suddenly panicked, and a cloud of arrows thumped around her. People poured out of their homes as enemies poured into the village. The giant snarled as he lost sight of his bride. His brow was furrowed and knotted, and he raced to fetch his sword, which was larger than any other sword in the village and had been custom-made for him.

He twisted and stormed towards his bride, bringing his mighty sword crashing through the air. Invaders fell around him, their blood soaking into the ground. He barely broke a sweat as he slew his way toward Bea, ignoring the arrows that fell around him. He had no doubt that the attack would be driven back, but he wondered why fate had to be so dastardly to bring this attack on his wedding day.

As he had done time and time before, he defended the village and sent the enemies to the hallowed afterlife, for it was always a glorious death to be slain by this giant.

But then he reached his bride, who had fallen to the ground. Now that he was closer, he could see the expression on her face, but it was one of terror. The life had slipped from her eyes, and the only thing warm about her was the blood that made her white dress crimson. She was limp in his arms, and the life that they were going to have together was now suddenly nothing more than a whisper on the wind.