Page 26 of A Song of Ravens and Wolves
I held up the sword, as Sigurd had, hilt in hand and blade skyward.
‘Now,’ said Estrid. ‘This sword transfers the power of your father and his protection over to your new husband.’
Sigurd placed his hands around my own. They did not tremble as mine did. He squeezed my hands again before taking the sword and passing it to Thorkell.
‘Now the rings,’ said Estrid.
I had avoided his gaze as long as I could, but I glanced up to find him staring at me.
‘Jarl Sigurd, do you swear to the gods that you want to marry this woman?’
‘With the gods as my witness.’ He flashed a smile before slipping the circlet of hammered metal over my finger. ‘I do swear.’
Beads of sweat trickled down my back. I tried to stand taller, bringing my face to meet his and taking his hand in mine.
‘Olith, do you swear to all the gods that you want to marry this man?’
I was still in a daze. The words meant nothing to me, but I repeated them as Sigurd had. Three short words in Norse.
‘I do swear.’ I tried to stop the tremble in my voice as I slipped the ring over his finger.
‘Then,’ Estrid proclaimed to the rest of the congregation. ‘You are married.’
As she said it, the rain began to fall with a soft thump, thump.
Sigurd bent to kiss me, I thought it would be brief but as his lips touched mine he scooped me from the floor and into his arms, pressing me against the solidness of him. The only place that in my life, ever truly gave me solace.
All those around us began to whoop and shout, patting the Jarl on the back.
We drew apart and he placed me back on my feet. I smiled a little nervously. I had a husband now. I looked down at my hand. I still have not removed his ring to this day. He wrapped my arm over his as we made our way through the long reeds of grass, already turning golden with the anticipation of the harvest.
‘Now we feast.’ He gazed down at me.
‘All of us?’
‘Yes.’ He shouted something in Norse and in a hail of flesh, they all took off running, whooping and howling, chasing each other and leaving Sigurd and I in their wake. He roared with laughter.
‘What are they doing?’ I asked.
‘It is the bruð-hlaup, the bride race.’ He smiled. ‘Last one there has to serve everyone’s drinks for the rest of the evening,’ and with that, my groom took off after them.
I picked up my skirts and ran, sodden undergrowth pulling at the fabric and stumbling over uneven ground, but I kept no more than a length between us. I had chased down enough injured quarry in my time, I would not let him get away from me that easily.
The fresh spring rain had soaked my gown, sticking it to my legs. All the fear that had been balled up inside my throat burst forth in a shriek and a giggle as I hurtled down the embankment towards the rest of the party.
By the time I reached the others my hair was slicked to my face with rain. The exterior of the Mead Hall was decked with flowers of golds and yellows, that I could just about see above the sea of heads. I squeezed my way through the throng of slick bodies, arriving at the barred entrance, guarded by Sigurd.
His beautiful charcoal markings ran like tears the length of his face, which made his smile more radiant. He scooped me from the floor again, this time, he cradled me in both arms.
‘Welcome, Lady Olith,’ he smiled down at me. ‘To your new home.’
Chapter 11
Wisdom is Welcome, Wherever it Comes from
He lifted me across the threshold and placed me neatly on the floor. Every crevice on the wall seemed to house a candle, making it look as though he’d captured the stars just for me. At the furthest point were two huge chairs and before them a huge fire that licked orange flames towards a circular opening in the ceiling.
Before us, row upon row of long tables were laden with all manner of roasted meats, fish the likes of which I had never seen and most sumptuous butter root vegetables. It was a feast for the eyes.
