Page 15 of A Song of Ravens and Wolves
‘I couldnae find Angus.’ My hand roamed around for the dampness of his fur. ‘He’d gone off chasing a herd of deer. I found him near the edge of the wood.’ I lied.
I could feel the Jarl’s eyes upon me. I held my breath and pushed out my chin, hoping he would be too polite to call me a liar.
‘At least she is here now.’ The Jarl gave me a sideways glance.
He was almost bare to his chest. I could see his tattoos so clearly; it was as though they were moving. Animals looped between coils of dragons, slithering, and turning against the sinew. On his chest, an inky crow sat in the branches of an ash tree watching me.
‘Jarl Sigurd.’ I bowed. ‘A blessed day.’
‘It is.’ He bent down low so that he might whisper in my ear. ‘It is good to know that I am marrying an honest woman.’
I felt my cheeks flush as I turned my gaze back towards the ceremony on the steps just to see my sister and her new husband exchanged rings. Wearing the dress that her husband had helped her pick; she knew her place.
‘It is done,’ my father shouted to a cacophony of cheers.
My sister beamed. It was the happiest of unions, which saw children and a love that was truly envied. The thane adored my sister until the day she died. Even after her death, there was not another woman who came close to Bethóc.
As we walked, I held myself close enough that he might talk to me but not close enough that his hands could roam about me. At the edge of the path, he turned to me. ‘You are a vision,my queen,’ he gestured, holding out his hand. He smiled and it reached all the way to his eyes.
‘I am no your queen yet, Jarl Sigurd.’ I hesitated, feeling my father’s eyes upon me. My hand was dwarfed by his as he slipped it into the crook of his arm and we headed back towards the hall.
‘If you’ll excuse me, Jarl,’ I said, arriving at the entrance.
‘Won’t you stay, Olith? So we can talk a while?’
He gave me an intense look. What could we have to talk about? Back then, he was a heathen, and I was a pious Christian. If you read it in the parchments, it was to be a match made by the Devil himself, no good could come of it.
I stopped. ‘Jarl Sigurd, I must retire and make preparations for our long journey.’
As I said the words, my world fell away. I had saved my sister.
‘Will you attend later?’
‘Aye, but I have much to do first. If you’ll excuse me.’
‘Then I’ll look forward to your return.’
Chapter 6
A Flight of Fancy
As I entered the great hall, my heart felt heavy knowing it might be for the last time. It had been the only home I had known. Memories of the mother I had known had faded with time. The touch of her skin. Her smile. But here, in the hall, even the walls whispered her words. Her shadow still danced in the firelight and through the open shutter, when the wind was just right; I heard the sound of her laughter.
Of the three of us, Bethóc looked more like our mother than anyone, even though they were not related by blood. Her hair rippled and with a quick turn of her head, her blue eyes twinkled. She sat betwixt my father and her new husband. Head back and laughing. Before them, the table was laden with goose and pheasant and all manner of salmon and eel, more food than most had ever seen.
As I weaved my way through the throng, I could not ignore the sound of my father’s voice above the din, reporting his latest failed hunting party. ‘Afore the sun sets you must do me the honour of joining me in a hunt.’ He lay back lazily, rolling a hand. ‘Jarl Sigurd, we shall use spears and crossbows. Maybe even the falcons, something you will not be accustomed to.’
Falconry. Finally, something I could compete in. Maybe even upset the Jarl enough that he would call the whole thing off. He gave me a sideways glance. ‘It is something I am sure I shall manage,’ he crooned. ‘I’m sure I can even show my Lady Olith how to hunt.’
I looked at him with utter incomprehension. ‘Show me how to hunt?’ I was the most accomplished hunter in the party.
‘Olith?’ My father shook his head. ‘What would a woman want to know of hunting? It is men’s work.’ He paused a moment as though a new thought had occurred to him. It made me uneasy. ‘Perhaps it is good that she learns, given the harsh terrain on your northern isles.’
The Jarl nodded. Both men thought I was no more than an adornment for an arm.
My father rose to his feet, although dwarfed in comparison. ‘Our women are obedient, Jarl. They have all learned to weave and Bethóc shall strum something wonderful on her lute.’ He let out a laugh, ‘our women are not built for hunting. Crinnin,’ he said to my sister’s new husband, ‘have the falconer bring out the hawks.’
The Jarl sucked his tongue over his teeth as though he had tasted something that displeased him. ‘You will join us.’ He held out his hand.
