Page 50 of A Shield Maiden's Earl
Soren
While I hadexperienced touching moments in my life, none were as powerful as the passing of Freya’s father, the great and mighty Bjorn Helvig. Not just his family and me, but the entire tribe, upon hearing the news of his passing, offered their unsheathed blades and fell to a knee. He had been a great man until the end, and it did my heart good that he and Freya found only love and peace together in their final moments.
Then things only grew more powerful when, one by one, after paying homage to Bjorn, warrior after warrior raised their heads and looked at Tove as we exited Bjorn’s lodge, offering their blades to her in supplication.
Usually, there would be more of a process within a tribe to establish new leadership, but it was clear when not just Bjorn’s warriors, but all his people looked to her with respect that she would be taking her father’s place.
“As she should,” Freya said soon after, when we went to her lodge so that we might bathe and prepare for a proper burial that evening. “Tove has long been by my father’s side in all things. She’s the one he looked to and the one who was here most for our people after the bear attack.”
“And she best tames Knud,” I added, because it was noteworthy, according to Freya.
“Ja,” she agreed. “And ’tis no easy task.” Combing her hair after we bathed and dressed, her voice grew soft and knowing. “Yet ’tis his task too, as I suspect he tames her as well in his own way.”
“So ’tis love betwixt them?” I wondered, taking the comb from her and running it through her thick crimson locks.
“’Tissomething,” she murmured. “Though I cannot say quite what, as both are hard to gauge sometimes, given their role in my father’s life.”
“A role and fate that is now theirs to fill.” I moved her hair aside and peppered soft kisses on the side of her neck. “One that I imagine will only bring them closer together as the Norns did us.”
“Without doubt,” she said, tilting her head back until our lips met and we lost ourselves for a time in each other.
After the sun set, we joined the village at the shore to send Bjorn off to the gods as he had wished, in the way of our Viking ancestors. Brilliant green and blue lights drifted across the night sky, and the seas were calm.
With our wolf, Sten, by our side, I wrapped my arms around Freya from behind, and we watched as they laid him in a small boat, adorned with his favored weapons, and the vessel was set afire by a flaming arrow as it drifted out to sea. Feeling her pain, I held her as silent tears fell, and her father traveled on fiery sparks to greet our All Father.
Afterward, we went to the Helvig’s great lodge and spent the evening celebrating Bjorn’s life with tales of his adventures and battles. It became abundantly clear as the eve wore on that the people looked to both Tove and Knud to lead them, whether they were married or not. I couldn’t blame them, either, after watching the two of them together. There need not be love to see they worked well together, and the Helvig tribe needed that most right now.
Eventually, the evening waned, and Tove asked us to join her and Knud alone for one last toast to Bjorn, and so that we might talk of Astrid. As expected, Tove didn’t seem to feel she alone should speak with us about Astrid, but included Knud as if it were a given.
“Considering you are taking Father’s place now, Tove, you should have this,” Freya said when we joined them around a small fire in Tove’s lodge. She handed her sister the letter Lachlann had wanted delivered to Bjorn. “’Tis word of Chieftain Lachlann Mackay and Astrid’s upcoming marriage so that we might strengthen ties betwixt our lands going forward.”
Tove broke the seal, unraveled the scroll, and read, her finely arched ebony eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Itdoesspeak of marriage, but not of Astrid to Lachlann, but to his son, Declan Mackay.” She frowned at us. “How do I know that name?”
“’Twas what I said upon first hearing his name,” I muttered, yet this made sense, given Freya’s assessment of the two before we left Scotland.
“Because Declan is known for his battle prowess,” Freya said, a soft, knowing smile on her face. “Yet that battle does not extend to Astrid…not really.”
“Though his hatred of the Norse does,” Knud said darkly, a storm brewing in his eyes. A response I well understood yet had to counter for Astrid’s sake because someday we might very well stand on the battlefield opposite her husband.
“Hatred that still allowed me to heal in his castle,” I defended, surprising Freya as I was the last one who would typically champion Declan. Yet it was true, and that had to mean something right now, if there was ever to be peace between our countries. If ever the pointless deaths at the Battle of Largs were to mean anything. Strive toward a purpose. Make a difference.
Then there was Astrid, stuck in the thick of it, her heart in the right place.
“And Astrid is there willingly?” Tove asked Freya, not for the first time. “You are certain?” She shook her head. “Because if she’s not, I will sail there myself and—”
“She is,” Freya cut her off gently, offering a reassuring nod. “There’s no doubt in my mind that Astrid, as she told you through the flames, is very much where her talisman and the Norns have led her. Very much where destiny has led her so that all goes as it should on Midgard.”
“And ’tis no surprise to you that she will be marrying Declan instead of the chieftain, Lachlann?” Tove assumed, looking at both me and Freya. “That this match is not against her will and ’twill only bring her happiness?”
“Neither of us can speak to happiness as that is in the Norns’ hands,” Freya replied. “As to it being against her will?” That same soft smile hovered on her lips. “Somehow I doubt it, though I do wonder why Lachlann would have lied to us about who she was marrying.” She gazed into the flames and thought about it. “Unless he knew something he didn’t want his son knowing just yet, such as impending illness, perhaps.” She shook her head. “He was not recovering well from nearly drowning.”
“I imagine you will know soon enough via Astrid and the flames,” I said, agreeing with her theory.
“And what of you, Soren?” Knud grunted, narrowing his eyes at me, still focused on Declan. “What do you think of the warrior Astrid is to marry, given that you have met the man?”
I nearly said he reminded me a lot of Knud himself, but bit my tongue and said what they needed to hear, bluntly, and prayed it was the truth, at least for Astrid’s sake.
“However difficult I found him to be, I believe Declan’s feelings for Astrid bear a striking resemblance to those you feel for Tove, and vice versa, soja, I think she will be safe in his hands.” Although I debated saying more, they needed to know everything. “I also think Freya is right. Lachlann’s health isfailing after nearly drowning, so Declan may be closer than he knows to becoming chieftain, putting Astrid in a good position, indeed.”
