Page 62 of Alien Viking's Passion

The woman laughed. “Oh, it was tough! Especially by the end. I don’t regret having done my best to keep him loveless and our land safe. But I wish you to know that he had no choice in this, in leaving you behind despite his strong feelings for you. It was decided for him centuries ago. Others will say the same.”

“Others already have, Tyra,” Aretha replied, falling into the formal way of speaking. “And I accept it fully. Indeed, if he had condemned his whole people to drown for the sake of his own happiness, then he would not be the kind of prince I could marry.”

“With Kofraks dead, the principality is safe from him and no longer needs a Royal Chaperone. I shall ask the prince to dismiss me from the post. But I want my last act to be this.” The woman smiled. “Congratulations on your engagement, Aretha Kofraks-bane! Our prince loves you dearly, and we all ask that you love him equally in return!” She held out her hand.

Aretha lowered her shoulders. “Thank you, Lendkven Tyra! I think that loving Prince Craxon with any less than my whole heart would not be possible.”

The older woman glanced over at him. “Nor do I. We haven’t had a married prince for a long time, Aretha. It seems to me that a happy Craxon will be the best ruler we could ever wish for. It isexpected that you will spend your life supporting him to the best of your ability.”

“And he will support me,” Aretha stated. “I think that’s expected in any marriage.”

“True. And yet a royal marriage is special. We haven’t seen one in a long time. You will set the example for every future princess.”

“I suppose I’ll have to— what?” Aretha frowned. “You don’t mean…?”

Tyra gave her a tight smile. “That you’ll be a princess? I do mean that. As will your friend Josie be queen when Bragr is crowned.”

Aretha had to grab the ship’s railing for support. “You gotta be kidding.I never wanted to be a princess, Tyra. Can I just… refuse? Ask to be excused? I have no experience with ruling people.”

“You can refuse to marry Craxon. There is no other way to avoid that title.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You will get used to it. When we reach Ragnhildros, I will come to see you and help you prepare. If there’s time. I suspect our prince will want the wedding to take place very soon.”

The ship was badly damaged by the battle. The mast was impossible to fix, and there were holes in the hull that had to be filled. Six of the crew rowed with long oars, singing a rhythmic chant to keep time.

As night fell, the stars came out and Aretha asked Craxon which way Ragnhildros was.

“From Hjalmarheim, straight west leads you right. Now, we don’t know how far off course Kofraks’s storm blew us. But we’ll assume not too far. We’ll go west and then see if we don’t hit the right coast.”

There was no shelter on the open ship, and Aretha slept curled up on the deck with a blanket over her. Craxon sometimes joined her there, but mostly kept watch and steered the ship.

Three days later they saw land.

- - -

“Yes, I will,” Craxon said in Garda, his deep voice rolling over the crowd and the fjord in front of them.

“Aretha Dillon Kofraks-bane, will you have this man, Prince Craxon of Ragnhildros, as your wedded husband, to share your heart and your shield, your laughter and your tears, until the alkyries come to take you to Valhalla?”

“Yes, I will,” Aretha said.

She heard a sigh go through the crowd behind them. They all wanted this for their prince.

The Arch Shaman blessed them both in the name of Odin, and together they planted the sapling of aneikrright where they were standing, in front of the altar. This ancient outdoor altar could now not be used for anything else, but would become part of the tree as it grew to its great size over the next century. It was one of the ways that the Ragnhildroses wanted to show how much they supported the union. Aretha hadn’t been sure how significant it was until she’d seen Craxon stunned by the gesture. So it had to be really important.

They turned around to face the crowd. Thousands had gathered from all over the island, but the clearing in front of the ancient altar only had room for a fraction of them. The rest were standing under the trees and in the meadows around it. They couldn’t be seen, but they could be heard.

Now the crowd was quiet. The normal ceremony would be for the newlyweds to strike their swords together as a symbol that they would face the world as one, but Aretha had suggested a change, and Craxon had laughed, calling it ‘wonderful’ and ‘remarkable’.

Everyone was expecting to see them draw swords. But instead Craxon bent his neck and Aretha craned hers, and their lips met in a soft, but long kiss.

Again a sigh went through the crowd.

They straightened and smiled.

Then the crowd cheered, a thunderous roar of joy that lasted for a good while.

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