Page 38 of Viking Warriors: Vol. 1-3
The savagery in Gunnolf’s tone chilled me. I’d never heard him speak so violently and wondered what had brought this depth of feeling. Eirik had told me that his mother had died when he was barely three years old but I didn’t know the circumstances.
“We might join our blood with that of Skálavík.” I heard Eirik say. “It would end the feud. Jarl Eldberg might accept Helka for his bride.”
“Marry Eldberg!” she protested. “I’d rather lie with the hog in the sty.”
“Nay,” snapped Gunnolf. “Hallgerd is two years dead and I’ve waited long to overthrow the pact. I am jarl, now, and will have my revenge. I’ll let the dogs feast on those Eldberg loves, then crush him beneath my foot.” Gunnolf laughed but there was no mirth in it. “Besides which, the little birds I pay to tell me of our enemies have sent notice that Eldberg has some new wife in his bed. So, that alliance is no longer possible, brother.”
I imagined Helka’s relief at this news, as I watched her shoulders relax.
Gunnolf took another swig of ale. “He’ll pay for the actions of his father, as will all Skálavík.”
The silence hung heavy before Eirik nodded. “Aye, brother. I understand your wish.” He took a long draught from his cup. “However, I’ve no desire to lead us to empty defeat. Jarl Eldberg’s warriors outnumber ours fourfold.”
“Asta’s clan have pledged their help,” added Helka.
“They have,” conceded Eirik, “But the match was made by our uncle with an eye to her dowry. I don’t trust her menfolk to fight to Valhalla’s gates. They prosper only because they live upon an island easily defended.”
“I’m ahead of you, brother, with an alliance strong enough to bring victory to our cause. Before the snows came, I sent a petition to Jarl Ósvífur of Bjorgyn, offering Helka’s hand to his son, Leif. You’ll travel as soon as the way is clear.”
Helka’s voice was edged sharp. “And I have no say in the matter.”
Gunnolf growled in displeasure and I wondered, not for the first time, at Helka’s boldness.
She would comply with nothing against her will but Eirik attempted to sway her, nonetheless. “Set aside your grief for Vigrid. Your unwed state is an insult to Freya and all the gods, who made women for the pleasure they bring to men and for the bearing of children.”
I flinched to hear him say so for, if the bearing of children were a woman’s duty, had I not also failed?
I couldn’t see her face but I imagined her eyes blazing. “I’ll never marry again, unless to a man of my own choosing.”
“Enough!” Gunnolf’s voice rose in a curse. He grasped her arm. “You’ll have the man I put before you.”
“The decision is wise, Helka,” Eirik urged. “Leif Ósvífursson is renowned as a warrior and will become jarl in due course. It will be a good match.”
Helka answered most coolly. “I might direct you to the same path, brother. I hear that young Freydís Ósvífursdóttir is in need of a husband. Why not an alliance forged from your marriage? She’s newly reached her womanhood, I believe, and comely. You should take an honest wife. You’ve spent too many years casting your seed in random fields. If you won’t marry for love then do so for our people.”
I choked back an impulse to step forward and rage at Helka. My blood turned to ice at the thought of Eirik laying this Freydís in the bed we shared, touching her hair, her skin. I held my breath, waiting to hear how he’d answer.
He seemed about to speak but the words did not leave his lips.
Helka tossed her head in frustration. “I see that I must decide for us, brother. Your bravery only runs to violence, and not to matters of the heart.” She jabbed at the fire, but there were no more flames. The embers had lost their heat. “I make no promise of compliance but, as soon as the weather allows, we’ll travel to Bjorgyn. One way or another, we’ll return with an alliance.”
Gunnolf lifted the jug and poured from it. “Here’s to new allies, dear sister, dear brother,” he toasted. “May you find them to your liking. If not, I suggest you do not return at all.”
14
Helka donned her cloak and departed. Gunnolf too, rose, taking some steps towards the boxed room he shared with Asta before changing his mind. Turning away, he removed himself, instead, to the bench where Faline slept.
No doubt she’d heard all that had passed, as well as I. How gleeful she’d be. Not one word had Eirik offered to protest his love. Helka, too, had betrayed me. She’d rightly warned me against believing Eirik ready to wed, but I’d not expected her to urge his marriage to another. I’d thought her to take my part, to wish my happiness as much as I wished hers.
I could foresee how it would go. Once in Bjorgyn, Helka would persuade Eirik to seal an alliance of marriage, that she might be spared the contract herself. If Helka convinced him of her abhorrence to the match, Eirik’s sense of duty would force his choice.
He didn’t shift from the fire, continuing to stare into the embers. I watched him with neither the will to move nor speak. What could I say that would be worth the breath?
I’d struck a bargain and Eirik had kept his part. I wanted for nothing. He might have taken me against my will, making me his thrall. Instead, it had been my choice to accept whatever terms I found under his roof—not as his wife but as his consort. I’d made my choice willingly, to leave my homeland and travel to Svolvaen. I’d been eager to learn of my heritage from the father I’d never known—the Viking who’d raped my mother and conceived my birth. I’d embraced this path, eager to learn about all that shaped my nature, but I was not ready to learn that the man I loved thought so little of me.
Had I been born from my father’s marriage bed, would I have been valuable enough to have my hand sought by Eirik? There was little enough chance of that, now, when he had the pleasure of my body and no obligation beyond my keep.
As it was, I’d found only another place where I was tolerated more than accepted. Were Eirik to grow tired of me, my position would be lost. I burned with the injustice of it.
