Page 17 of A Song of Ravens and Wolves
I sometimes wondered if he ever regretted saying those words. If he did, he did not show it. I was the scourge of kings and kin alike. I made sure that our women were more feared than our men and that those that had betrayed us paid for what they did.
In flight, Drest was the fastest. I had raced them many a time when the falconers were out practicing. He was capable of taking down prey much larger than the others. He moved like lightning. The other birds would pale in comparison.
Drest stiffened with expectation. It spread like a fever from one bird to the next. The excitement of the hunt building.
‘Release the birds,’ King Malcolm bellowed.
With a flick of my wrist, Drest was off soaring on the crest of an updraft, feathers fluttering like quills.
‘He is quick,’ said the Jarl.
‘He is,’ I found myself intrigued by his curiosity. ‘Look,’ I said as quietly as I could, drawing his attention to Drest who had begun to hover. His eye followed mine.
‘Olith,’ my father barked darkly. ‘May I speak with you?’
‘Please excuse me, Jarl Sigurd,’ I said stepping back.
My father stood with his arm shielding his eyes, squinting into the sunlight trying not to lose sight of his birds.
‘You’re making an impression on the Jarl. I want peace at our borders and the power of their army bound to me by any means we can. After you’re wed, Orkney and the rest of the northern isles will cause us no further trouble as long as you can spit him out a child.’ His brow furrowed with concentration.
‘They will treat your child with mercy,’ said the priest. ‘Olaf Tryggvason is a good Christian, but the light of Christ grows dimmer every day. It is God’s will that you should become his wife and help Christianity to flourish within the isles. It is only through our obedience that we can truly find salvation.’
‘But, father.’ I addressed the priest dutifully. ‘Was it not only just yesterday that you proclaimed I would find my salvation in my remorse when the Jarl refused my hand? Which is it, father?’ I said, knowing it would provoke a reaction.
He stared at me, but he could not hide his shock at my defiance. At least he would not hit me in public. He huffed. ‘Wecannot question God’s will. It is through his love that we can defeat the pagans and bring peace to our borders.’
‘I will not disappoint you.’ I bowed my head.
At least his afternoon would not be idle, he could spend the afternoon praying for my salvation.
‘We have a meeting of the council this evening, be sure to accompany your husband,’ he said testily. ‘You will still be my eyes and ears when you are in Orkney.’
‘Aye, as you wish, Laird King.’
‘Now away with you,’ he said as I turned to make my way back to the Jarl. ‘And Olith, you know that my bird will be victorious.’
He meant to punish me if I did not lose. It lit a fire deep in my belly. I looked up at the sky again, Drest had gained any ground he had lost. The Jarl was also watching skyward, at the dark smear that was gliding gracefully. It was then it happened.
Drest caught sight of my father’s most prized bird, glittering eyes locked on its target. My heart raced. In an instant he closed his wings, dropping through the air like a stone. He caught my father’s bird off guard, slamming it sideways. The pair tumbled in a skirmish of feathers. Faster and faster before hitting the ground in the centre of the field.
Gasps rang out, mine included.
Elpin ran through the long grass to where they had fallen.
He raised his arm, showing Drest resting on his clenched fist. My father’s bird hung limply in the other, red blood smeared on its chest.
My heart hammered. I tried to stop myself from shaking, but it did not work. It had been a fatal mistake and one I would pay for.
Everyone fell silent.
‘My lady,’ the Jarl whispered in my ear. ‘I think you might have finally earned your father’s respect.’
I closed my eyes against his words.
My father was a cruel man, if I could have given Sigurd one piece of advice it would have been to never fight him. He was never to be trusted, something I would come to learn much too late.
‘Ring its neck!’ my father shouted.
