Page 13 of A Shield Maiden's Earl
Although about to respond, Brynhild paused when a soft rap came at the door, and she was summoned away before she could divulge more due to a problem with one of the ships only she could resolve. Yet I got the sense as she left and my stone warmed once more that her departure might have been more purposeful than an issue with a boat.
Soon after, my trunks arrived, followed by several servants to prepare my bath and help me get ready. All the while, I mulled over a past with this tribe that seemed hazy at best. I recalled well enough Soren visiting our tribe, but even then, they were the memories of youth, and those could so easily become warped in one’s mind over time.
After bathing, I blinked back tears when I discovered our mother’s marital dress in a trunk Tove had sent along. Not just that, but one of my father’s swords, along with a family ring engraved with the Helvig bear insignia. While I would like to think my father had provided these to exchange with Sorenduring our matrimony, something told me he had not. He’d been too preoccupied with taking blades from me, not the other way around. Either way, I was grateful I had something to offer Soren, given our tribes still practiced the old ways born of our Viking ancestors.
Although I was still unsure why I hadn’t grabbed a blade and shield when Soren offered them to me on his ship, the timing had not seemed right, and I couldn’t say why. Especially considering I was a shield-maiden meeting my new tribe for the first time. Perhaps out of pride because they weren’t my own? Yet somehow that didn’t feel like the reason.
Curiosities aside, it was time to see through my fate.
So, once dressed and properly adorned, I was led back to the shore to marry, and my life started anew, taking me down roads I didn’t know awaited me. However, interestingly enough, it turned out that, mayhap, Soren and his mother very much had.
Chapter Six
Soren
“Why did youcall me away, nephew?” Brynhild joined me on the pier after seeing Freya to her cottage, where I remained perplexed by what I saw. “Did you not want me to see to Freya’s needs and prepare her for what was to come? Prepare her for stories of your youth that might soon greet her ears?”
Though Brynhild batted me away, prideful in her later years, I still helped her into a newly built boat that had yet to set sail and pointed out a crack in the wood at the front. While not an integral piece that should not affect the vessel’s sailing abilities, I found it alarming, if not chilling, in its own way.
“Is that not the very crack that formed on the boat that carried Freya to our shores when I was a boy?” I frowned at her. “The very crack that formed as she battled illness?”
“It certainly seems it,” Brynhild murmured, equally awed. She ran her fingers along strong, durable wood that should not crack like this. Wood she knew well from an oak tree she had hand-selected herself. “I neither possess the gifts of your mother nor of she who will soon be your wife, but I would say this is a sign.” She looked to the horizon, then to me. “One of a divide to come once more.”
“’Tis not what I want to hear.” I frowned. “Not if it means to divide me and Freya yet again.” Biting back emotion, I shook my head. “Not as it nearly did before. As it would have if not for my mother, may she forever dine by Odin’s side in Valhalla.”
“And I don’t doubt she will because she was the greatest warrior,” she said softly, resting a comforting hand on my arm. “One who fought battles you and I would never be capable of fighting, saving countless, not with a blade but with the gift that lay in her healing touch.”
“Ja,” I murmured, missing her but proud of her. “I’m sorry that I called you away from Freya’s side on such an eve, but ’twas important you see this. Important that I knew this boat would be safe above all others.”
“’Twill be,” my aunt assured. “This crack is about prophecy rather than safety.”
“Yet are they not often intertwined?” I reminded.
“When it comes to Freya,ja, but you need not fear that this boat will sink.” She rested her hand on the hull. “’Tis a strong ship built for an equally strong shield-maiden.” Curious, she slid me a look. “Might she someday soon hold a shield once again as she should?”
I had noticed Freya didn’t end up taking anything from the trunks of weapons on our ship earlier, and could only hope it meant she didn’t feel threatened.
“Aye, my aunt, she shall soon have another shield in hand if she wishes it,” I promised, helping her back onto the dock despite her trying to bat me away again. Whether she liked it or not, her old bones needed assistance. Especially on such a cold, damp day. “’Twill not be the shield it should be, but’twillbe a shield.”
When she looked at me in question as we headed back to the village, I told her of everything that had happened among the Helvig tribe. Specifically, with Freya’s father, Bjorn.
“’Tis a shame he went down such a path when once he let his daughters shine,” she said in contemplation. “Yet you think it all out of fear for their safety? That he smothers them now rather than letting them be the strong daughters he raised them to be?”
“Make no mistake, they still are.” I urged her to take my arm, not surprised when she waved me away once more and stuck to it this time. “Butja, in my opinion, he does not want them fighting but breeding, of the mind it will keep them safe.”
“And what of the daughter he sent off to the wilds of Scotland?” she wondered with a knit brow. “Is she safe, given she is the youngest and, if I recall correctly, the least brazen of the three?”
“From what I heard, Astrid fares well enough and wields words as efficiently as she wields a blade these days,” I replied. “She’s skilled at the various dialects of the Scots, English, and Norse alike, so she is much valued.”
“So, she has become a peacekeeper?” Brynhild exclaimed. “During such trying times, when last I heard, we Norse barely hold claim to the land of the Scots nowadays?” She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like something a father would approve of when he’s so determined his daughters forfeit their shields for strong sons.”
“Nay,” I agreed. “But that’s what I heard.” Eyeing her pained gait and wanting her to rest, I looked at her in question. “Join me for an ale?”
“Nay, I will go ready myself for such an important eve.” She stopped and looked at me with all the fondness my own mother once did. “An eve you have long awaited, and I couldn’t be happier for you. This is meant to be in ways my sister saw long ago.” She pressed her hand to my heart. “Thatyoufelt long ago, and now the gods have delivered you to each other as it always should have been.”
“Thank you, Aunt.” I rested my hand over hers, fearful to feel hope and happiness after seeing the crack on the boat. Yet the moment had arrived, so I set aside my trepidation for now. “I look forward to a night of celebration.”
Passing Freya’s cottage soon after, I wasn’t surprised to see Sten standing guard outside her door. Even though I longed to go inside where she prepared for our nuptials, I held back and sighed, thinking about the promise I’d made not to lie with her tonight and make her my wife in every sense of the word. Granted, I had every intention of seducing her because I felt her reaction to me when we were close, yet still. It wasn’t the same as knowing with certainty I would have her at long last this very eve.
