Return of the Viking Warrior

‘Jaarlshiem is safer. Fewer opportunities for mischief. My nerves are in shreds enough as is.’ Kara firmed her mouth and ignored Auda’s remark about looking like a goddess.

If she’d been more of a woman, Ash would not have gone. Ash would have stayed and made sure that he had a healthy heir. Her father-in-law’s bitter words just after he found out about Ash’s tragic death still had the power to hurt. Kara shook her head. Her late husband was the last person she wanted to think about today of all days. It was her wedding day.

A new start. A new chapter to ensure that Rurik grew up without fear. Jaarlshiem had been without a strong warrior at its helm for far too long. Ash Hringson belonged to the unremembered past and the girl she had once been. If she had been the one to die instead, her ashes would have barely been scattered on the tuntreet’s roots before Ash found another to warm his bed.

‘What has Rurik been up to?’ Auda gave an indulgent smile. ‘Surely he learnt his lesson after being caught out in that thunderstorm with a horse he could barely control.’

‘Trust me, you don’t want to know.’ Kara held up her hand. ‘But he worships Valdar. I hope he will be a calming influence.’

She refused to think about the narrow escapes her six-year-old son specialised in recently. The incident with the horse had been enough, but he had taken to defying her at every opportunity. Leaving him with Gudrun, Ash’s old nurse, had seemed like the best option. Gudrun was used to such behaviour. She often proclaimed how like his father Rurik was, particularly around his ears and nose.

Ash’s many scrapes were the stuff of legend. They first met because he had fallen while trying to recapture his falcon. The falcon suffered a hurt wing and Ash had brought the falcon to her mother rather than wringing its neck as his father had advised.

Her mother’s skill as a healer had been second to none and it had been the first time Kara had been allowed to bind up a bird’s wing while her mother had attended to Ash’s twisted ankle. Five months later her mother had died in an accident. Ash had spoken to Kara during the funeral, taking the time to discover her hiding place behind the iron trunk and bring her a sweetmeat. Instant adoration had followed and when he’d asked her to marry him, all of her girlish dreams had come true.

Until it was too late, she had never considered that he might not feel the same way about her. Foolishly she’d failed to realise her hero was a selfish man, not a god.

A sudden shiver coursed down her back. Rurik might look like Ash, but she was the one raising him. She refused to make the mistake Ash’s father had with Ash—spoiling him when he showed prowess at being a warrior or did something which pleased him and abandoning him to his fate if the challenge proved impossible.

‘Kara, you’ve become very quiet.’

‘I’m always quiet, Auda.’

‘Only when people don’t know you or if you are upset. When you are comfortable, you talk all the time.’

‘I’m trying to get my eyeliner right. Why I have to wear it is beyond me.’

‘A bride needs to make sure she is well painted. Everyone knows that. You don’t want to risk Freya’s displeasure. You do want the goddess’s blessing for this union?’ Auda started chattering like a magpie about various weddings and how the recent brides had looked and whether or not Freya had been pleased. ‘You’ve smudged it. Start again and keep to the corner of your eye, rather than trying to draw a line under it.’

Kara picked up the small brush and started again. This time, she was going to be a bride to be admired, rather than laughed at or pitied. She shuddered, remembering how the liner had run down her cheeks at the last wedding. Ash had cleaned it off with his handkerchief with an indulgent smile.

Auda held out the gleaming crown. It was even more ghastly than Kara remembered. The last time, she had worn it with such pride, thinking Ash would want her to look radiant. But she’d heard the whispers and catcalls of ‘witch’s child’ which had followed her progress.

‘You do agree, Kara?’

Kara started and realised she was expected to say something. ‘I missed that, Auda.’

‘I merely said that the women will now have several more things to envy you for—a gorgeous bridal crown and a handsome warrior in your bed.’

‘How could anyone envy me?’ Kara forced a laugh. The thought of sharing a bed with Valdar left her cold. She’d do her duty, but ever since she had learnt of the truth about her marriage with Ash, she had felt entombed in ice. Despite his looks, Valdar’s kisses chilled her. Even the simplest touch from Ash had been enough to send her up in flames during that long-ago spring.

‘You’d be surprised. There are rumours about Valdar’s exceptional good fortune in bed. Many have hoped to capture him, but thus far he has only wanted one woman for his wife—you.’

‘The rumours failed to reach Jaarlshiem.’ Kara kept her back stiff. She knew Valdar could have had his pick of the women, but he’d chosen her. His many proposals had emphasised his growing friendship with Rurik, the nearness of their estates and the compatibility of their natures rather than her golden hair or the curves in her bottom lip as Ash’s had done. ‘The bedsport will be what it is.’

‘You should see your face, Kara. Redder than a beetroot. Anyone would think you a maid of sixteen rather than a widow.’ Auda tapped a finger against the crown. ‘Is the bedsport with Valdar not to your liking? Surely you sampled him before you agreed to this match.’

‘Auda, stop teasing. When would I have had time to enjoy Valdar? I am a mother and I run Jaarlshiem. Valdar and I have barely had an hour alone since the match was agreed.’ Kara reached for the crown and jammed it on her head.

Her doing, not his. It hadn’t felt right dishonouring Ash in that way. Once the ceremony was over and she no longer belonged in any way to Ash, everything would be different.

Seeing her friend’s increasingly troubled expression, Kara relented. ‘I just want this ceremony over and done with. The whole day, in fact.’

‘You look exquisite, you know that, Kara.’ Auda laid a gentle hand on Kara’s shoulder. ‘Anyone looking at you now will understand why one of the finest warriors in the land chose you for his bride and why he laid his heart at your feet. All you have to do is see the way his face lights up when he spies you.’

‘Sweet Auda.’ Kara gave her friend a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘But I do know my limitations. Shall we get this ceremony over with? Before Valdar realises the sort of woman he is marrying and changes his mind?’

‘He won’t. Once my brother-in-law has made up his mind, he stays the course. He is exceedingly stubborn.’

‘Steadfast, I know. You’ve said.’ Kara gave one last despairing look in the small mirror. She repeated the words she had taken to saying over the past few weeks. ‘And precisely the right man for me. Seven years married and six of them a widow. I deserve a man in my life.’

‘That’s the Kara I know and love.’

Balancing the awkward crown on her head, Kara trod a careful path to the temple. At the entrance to the temple’s grounds, she froze.

The temple overflowed with people, so many that they filled the courtyard. A great cheer and stamping of feet rose up when someone viewed her.

Kara fought the temptation to flee. She hadn’t realised there were this many people in Raumerike, let alone in the capital. Suddenly, this wedding felt wrong, as though she was making the biggest mistake of her life. A marriage should be more than simple practicality—her mother’s long-ago words welled up within her.

She firmed her mouth. Her biggest mistake had been marrying Ash in a haze of romantic dreams. This marriage promised to be different, based on mutual respect. No one was marrying under false pretences.

Towards the middle of the temple she saw Harald Haraldson, Ash’s uncle, sitting like a spider in the middle of his web, and knew why this marriage had to be so public. His very being radiated hatred and smug arrogance. Only she and Rurik stood in the way of his inheriting all that her father-in-law had acquired. The Raumerike inheritance laws were quite clear—if a man died without an heir, the estate passed first to his mother, next to her husband and only then to the remaining relatives. And a jaarldom could only be confirmed when the warrior proved worthy.

He noticed her glance and his lips turned up into a humourless smile, the sort of smile a hunter gives before he brings down his hapless prey. A shiver went down her spine.

She’d fought so long and hard for Rurik’s life when he was a baby that she wasn’t about to stop now. And she wasn’t about to be forced into a marriage where first Rurik’s life and then her own would be forfeit. Valdar would protect them with his dying breath.

She’d endure this ceremony, knowing she’d be back in Jaarlshiem in a few days. She had promised Rurik that she’d bring him a new father.

The last few steps to where Valdar was standing were far easier than the first ones. Auda was right. He did look every inch the handsome warrior, a formidable opponent for any foe. In time she would welcome him in her bed. She could play her part in bedsport.

How hard could it be to pretend passion? Other people did. Ash had done it with her and she’d been fool enough not to notice.

Kara held out her hand and Valdar lightly grasped her fingers. The simple touch did much to calm her nerves.

The priest began to invoke the gods, calling on Freya, Odin and Var to witness the union.

This marriage would be a better marriage than her last one, she silently promised. She would be a good wife to a good man.

The priest asked if anyone knew of an objection why the gods would not look on this union with favour. He paused dramatically.

Wriggling her shoulders, Kara tried to remove the sudden sense of impending doom.

She nodded to the priest to hurry him up and get this ordeal over with. He cleared his throat and lifted his hand.

‘I object! This woman is not free to marry! This ceremony must stop!’ a voice thundered from the back of the temple.

The priest’s hand halted. Kara forgot how to breathe. Ash! Ash’s voice from beyond the grave?