Page 11 of A Song of Ravens and Wolves
‘Olith.’ he called after me. ‘We leave at sunset tomorrow.’
Chapter 4
Wedding Night
The sharpness of the chilled air grabbed at the back of my throat as I spilled out onto the walkway. Gasp after gasp I swallowed it, I could hold my nerve no longer.
Angus stared up at me with sad brown eyes. My same grief reflected at me.
I grasped a handful of my skirts and took off at a run; feet slipping against the bark of the walkway and out onto the shoreline. Angus’s pace matched mine. I had put space between myself and my fate. The trees around me blurred. I ran faster. Shale slashing against the bareness of my feet. Afraid to look back. Afraid they’d catch us. No idea of where I had been or where I was headed.
I slowed as the forest thickened. My legs gave up before I did. The ache of exhaustion gnawed at my bones. They would take me no further. I stopped hands on knees, chest heaving.
How had I missed the darkness creep over the stillness of the river? Here, the light from my father’s fortress didn’t penetrate the dense foliage. I sat down on a rock, curling my knees to my chest, and stared out into the blackness of the water.
I could not go through with it. I could not give myself to such a man, a man I did not love. The tears came now, hot, and wet. I wanted my sister to be safe but at what cost? My life would be over, the second I stepped aboard the Jarl’s longboats.
I listened to the sound of the earth. The rattle of wind through the trees. The zip of midges dancing together, skimming the glassy surface of the river. Then, the noise of footsteps through the undergrowth. The crack of a branch.
I stiffened.
Angus gave out a long, mournful howl. The noise grew close. Heavy, cumbersome footsteps made their way toward me. I looked north, further into the darkness. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as if I were under the gaze of something unholy.
I turned back, the way I’d come and saw it. Silhouetted against the glow of the burg in the distance, Jarl Sigurd made his way over to where I sat on the rock. I brushed my tears away with the back of my hand, rising ungainly to my feet in an attempt to greet my soon-to-be husband. I did not want to look weak.
‘You must forgive me,’ he said over the low rumble of Angus’s growl. ‘I do not wish to upset you.’
‘There is no need to apologise.’ I sniffed loudly.
Young as I was, I was arrogant. Thinking I knew it all, but he caught me off guard. Smiling to reveal a row of pearl-white teeth. He stood stock-still with a hand on the hilt of his sword. His gaze passed over me, as cold and as blue as a Yuletide morn. Then, it seemed all the more terrifying. Now, I yearn to lose myself in those blue eyes once more before I return to Valhalla.
‘You misunderstand me. I wanted a wife, not a child bride. Perhaps I was too hasty in my decision.’ His voice was thick with more than just his accent.
‘My father believed I was your better match,’ I said, as meekly as I could manage. I bowed my head. ‘He is skilled at brokering trade agreements.’
He snorted. ‘I would not let your father hear that you talk of your engagement in such a way.’
‘Then let him not sell me like a bag of grain,’ I said the words before I could stop myself.
Looking back, there was not one single moment that I could say made me fall in love with him but maybe there, beneaththe stars, my heart yearned for something it had never thought possible.
He smiled at my gumption. ‘Maybe there is more to you than I first thought?’
‘Do not let my father hear you say that he will no doubt up my bride price.’
‘Who knows what else lies in store for us? But this.’ He pointed to the space between us. ‘Should have been a wedding to your sister and instead, the gods have chosen you as my match.’
‘I do believe, Jarl Sigurd that you may have had far too much of the Priest’s good mead. May I suggest some fresh air?’
He snorted again. A noise that angered me. I pushed out my chin.
‘You remind me of the goddess Freya.’ His blue eyes stared. ‘I can see it.’
Like most men, he told me what I wanted to hear, lip service to be in my favour. Any man that could make an arrangement with my father was a man not to be trusted.
‘What you can see, Jarl Sigurd is my unfortunate likeness to my mother. I bid you goodnight.’
As I tried to sidestep him, I stumbled over a rock in my haste to leave the clearing, but he caught me by my arm, righting me on my feet.
