Page 5 of A Song of Ravens and Wolves
‘You? You are much too like your mother. She always was a sinful bitch. Those are not qualities that make for a good wife. To bring peace, the Jarl will want an heir and for that, a man must want to lay with his wife.’
And a wife must want to lay with her husband. Something that my father and I could finally agree on.
‘If it is not an advantageous marriage, why am I to marry him?’
‘YOU aren’t. Donada will marry the Jarl.’ She did not raise her eyes. ‘I simply want you to make sure she is ready for the occasion.’
When I was learning to hunt, Elpin would often show me how to wield a short sword. Despite my smaller stature, I would run at him and try to strike him with my wooden blade. He always parried and then would turn his blade and dig me in the ribs with the hilt. The impact would knock every bit of air from my lungs. I would be bent double while Elpin would piss himself laughing at my pathetic attempts.
That was how I felt. Unable to breathe. Unable to speak. I was convinced he had made a mistake. She was so young; I had not thought to worry about her. I should have been the next to marry. I had done everything a mother should do. I had fed her. Held her. Kept her safe night after night when no one else would, but none of it mattered. He was going to gift her to the Danish bastards.
‘Donada?’ It came out as a strangled cry. ‘Father, you cannot allow Donada to marry the Jarl,’ I tried to plead to his good nature, while I still thought he had one. ‘Surely you cannot give her to the heathens as some kind of sacrifice for their loyalty?’ I could not hide my fury. ‘You are our King, please Father. Tell them to take their ships and leave. Go back to their own lands. They have enough of their own savage women to marry, they do not need our good Christian women.’
My father did not want my council. Nor would he suffer it. He leaned towards me, both hands on the table, darkness spreading across his features.
‘She is my daughter. Mine to do with as I please. As are you, Olith.’
It was not something I could forget. When I look at my reflection, I see the parts of him I wish I could cut away.
‘I will not let you take her.’ I balled my hands into fists.
‘You will not let me take her?’ he laughed again, a sickly noise. ‘You’re not her mother. Her mother has spent all her time preparing her daughters for marriage, and this is how you repay her. With your disrespect?’
‘What mother?’ I could not hold my tongue. ‘That pious trout that you make us call mother. We lost our mother the day Naiton died. We have no mother.’
I should have been more cunning and chosen my words carefully. He replied with a fist. I heard my sister’s gasp.
I wished I had been born wise like Bethóc instead of as headstrong as I was, but my sister could not see what our parents were, treating them like Saints. God had meant to punish me and made sure that every day I saw the truth of what they were.
‘You’ll do well to keep that tongue in your head,’ he said, as coolly as he had struck me. ‘Her wedding will be by Friday week’s end; we need to discuss her travel arrangements.’
‘You will send her to live amongst them?’ My burning cheek tried to remind me to be civil. ‘Among those heathens? They find it a game to kill Christians and yet you would let them take her?’ I said, like the witless fool I was.
‘Enough!’ he shouted again.
‘Then I will take her place.’ I gasped, stepping forward. ‘Let them take me.’
A look of confusion washed over Donada’s face. What else was I to do? She would not stand a chance against them. I could hunt. I could fight. I had known men. I would not see her defiled by a Dane.
I felt a hand at my elbow. ‘Olith, this is father’s decision. Do you not think it is him who is best placed to decide who we should marry…’ Bethóc trailed off.
‘No, Olith! I cannot let you do this.’ Donada screamed.
‘Enough, Donada,’ I said more harshly than I intended, but I did not want her to see me cry. ‘Does it truly matter whom he marries as long as he gets a bride?’ I said, trying to ignore her sobs.
He did not care about the fate of any of us, so long as he had his accord with the Danes and for that, he only needed a body. It would not matter whose.
‘I have made a promise to the Danes, the bride price has been agreed and is to be paid before they return to Orkney. The Jarl is paying for Donada, the rest of the dowry will be paid as she boards their ships at high tide. I will not go back on my word, and neither will the Jarl.’
I did not know how to answer. I did not understand the intricacies of dowries and the price for brides, but I did understand that my father would be happy so long as he could make good money from us, and he kept the Danish wolves from our borders.
‘Is it no true that they like their women spirited?’ I said, trying my hand at being cunning, God knows I would need it in the years to come. ‘Donada is young, she does not know the ways of men, the ways of war. She has lived a sheltered life. Surely, I would be the better choice? Why not ask them? Allow me to go before the Danes, let them wrangle over my price. If I can gain you a bigger dowry, then will you agree?’
I walked to my father and knelt before him, taking his hand, I kissed it.
Then the priest, who had been silent throughout, tried to speak. ‘Perhaps this is a test, Laird King? You should allow the girl her whims, salvation lies within us. Allow her to go before the Danes, when they refuse her, she will see the error of her ways and through remorse, she will find her salvation. We must thank God for showing her mercy.’
He placed a hand on my shoulder. I disguised my revulsion. Always praying for my salvation. Always thinking me unworthy of God’s love. I could not say I was ungrateful for his interference, my father remained God-fearing until his dying day. He was a dangerous man, but he would do nothing unless it had come from God. Looking back, it was just the salvation I needed.
