Page 16 of A Shield Maiden's Earl
I bit back a smile that he recalled the trick I once played on him. Going along with it, I gasped loudly and unsheathed Aslaug’s blade at my side, acting astonished. “’Tis warming as if being forged once more.”
“Surely not,” Soren exclaimed, looking at me and the blade with shock.
When we were children, I once convinced him my dagger had been touched by the gods because the metal was hot to thetouch, so surely I’d been blessed and he must do my bidding, which was great fun. In truth, I had left it lying in the sun unsheathed for too long. Naturally, he figured it out eventually and played a trick or two on me in return.
Having captured the crowd’s attention, I held out my new blade to Soren, sure he would play along. “Feel for yourself, husband. ’Tis warming as if your mother and I dare say the gods agree with you.”
Quite serious, he murmured another prayer to the gods and his late mother and tentatively touched the metal, only to act as if it burned him. Pulling his hand back sharply, he exclaimed that it was indeed hot, as if newly forged. Surely this meant we should heed his mother’s wishes.
When Ivar muttered something under his breath and narrowed his eyes at me, I feared he would reveal our ruse, but Brynhild acted first, as if she knew Ivar would cause issues. She touched the blade then yanked her hand back as if burned, her gaze wide with disbelief, before she lowered her head in prayer.
It became clear, as everyone followed her lead, that Brynhild had nearly as much sway over the crowd as Soren, because all truly believed it, and we were wished a happy consummation. May the gods watch over us always.
Wasting no time, Soren thanked his people and pulled me after him, grinning and winking once we were free of the lodge and prying eyes. Better still, free of six witnesses determined to watch me lose my virginity. Grateful for his quick thinking, I couldn’t help but chuckle as he put a finger to his lips, urging me to remain quiet lest anyone overhear us, and led me down a familiar path past my cottage to the impressive lodge beside it.
“But of course ’tis yours,” I said when he led me inside and shut the door behind us. The lodge had been prepared for a matrimonial evening, from the warm, inviting fire to multiple jugs of ale and mead, as well as choice meats and sweets.
My gaze drifted to the sizeable bed laden with plush furs, and I tried not to imagine the possibilities. Though I had enjoyed the evening and his kiss, I still wasn’t ready for that and what it entailed, and I said so.
“Would I have gone to all that effort to do away with witnesses if I intended to ravish you?” Soren chastised lightly, a smile in his smoky blue gaze. He urged me to sit so that we might enjoy a drink and conversation alone as man and wife, and may other things happen when the time was right.
“Nay, ’tis hard to imagine you would yet still,” I said carefully, accepting the ale he poured for me and speaking bluntly because I felt comfortable enough. “You now have the authority to go back on your word even in private. Even without prying eyes.”
“Yet mayhap you forget I follow the old ways, not the new religion.” Drink in hand, he stoked the flames on the hearth and sat beside me in front of the fire. When he looked at me once more, he grew serious.
Admittedly, my heart soared at his words. I knew he meant them, yet still. It seemed too good to be true.Heseemed too good. And I had long learned to be wary of that.
“And what of me?” I tested him, sipping my ale. “What if I ever treat you poorly or lie with another?”
“The same would apply,” he said easily enough without any warning in his tone. Just truth. “I would divorce you and send you back to your tribe without anything you gained through our marriage.” There was no missing the pain in his voice after he paused, contemplating how best to phrase his wishes. “Yet ’tis my fondest hope we share something more genuine than I had with my last wife. That there is enough love, honesty, and respect betwixt us that we would never do such things to one another.”
Though his love for me had been hinted at enough since we came together again, I was glad he didn’t profess it for me now. That told me he wished to rediscover each other and build it together going forward.
“You’re not what I expected, Soren,” I said softly, giving him the truth now that I could admit our childhood friendship impacted us more than I realized. “Yet everything I think a part of me hoped you might someday be.”
“’Tis good to hear.” He offered me the sort of soft smile I could get used to. “So now that we’re alone and starting anew in the best way possible, what would you know of me, Freya?”
Feeling my stone warm against my chest, I looked from his mother’s shield and sword back to him, then finally pulled the pendant Tove had given me out of my pocket and handed it to him. “I would have you explain why my sister gave me this before I left. How I have a pendant that was clearly made by you or your mother for the wolf is the very same?”
Pain flickered in his eyes at the sight of it, and a low, barely audible sigh escaped his lips. He stared at it for a long, heartfelt moment before replying.
“’Twas made by my mother.” Gazing at it fondly, he brushed his finger over it as if cherishing being able to touch it again. His attention returned to me. “Given to you on your deathbed when you were a child.”
My heart leapt into my throat, and a strange chill raced through me. “What do you mean by my ‘deathbed’?”
As if grappling with a difficult memory, he squeezed his hand around it, pain flashing in his eyes again. “I mean, you were so sick that even though my mother did her best to save you, you died, Freya.”
I shook my head, confused, so he went on.
“I was there, hidden in the shadows of my mother’s cottage, more often than she would have liked while she tried to bringyou back to good health,” he revealed, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I watched you turn blue and heard the death rattle as you took your final breath, then watched my mother weep over you…” As if he were back there and in denial of what he witnessed, he shook his head. “So I did all I could. Knowing it was far stronger than anyone realized, I brought the power of the wolf to you.”
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, yet the talisman warming at my chest told me I did. That I always had understood in some strange way.
His gaze dropped to the pendant in his palm. “My parents had this made for me at birth, and it kept me strong. Gave me hope that someday our tribe would be stronger than all the rest. ThatIwould see it strong if my father could not.” His eyes rose to me again. “That day, when you died, I ran to you and pressed it into your palm, willing it to give you the same strength it had given me, desperate for it to save you.”
Gazing at him, I struggled to breathe. All I could manage were whispered words. “And did it?”
“Ja.” He wrapped his hand around the pendant again as if cherishing it. “Moments later, you gasped your first breath in minutes and your eyes fluttered open to mine.” He shook his head in disbelief. “’Twas as if the gods brought you back. As though you had been searching for me wherever you went and came back when you felt this pendant. When you heard my pleas. Mayhap even my heart.”
