Lord of Raven's Peak (Viking Era 3)

Taby said, scuffing the toe of his leather shoe in the hard-packed earthen floor, “I don’t remember him, Laren. I don’t remember this Rollo either. I don’t want you to go to him, Merrik. If he doesn’t like you will he stick his sword in your stomach?”

“I trust not. Why would he when I will come to tell him our boy is alive and well?”

Taby was silent then. He looked at Laren and smiled. “Do you love Merrik, Laren? As much as you love me?”

“Oh yes, Taby.” She never hesitated, not for an instant, nor did she look at Merrik.

“All right,” Taby said and pulled out of Merrik’s arms. He didn’t look back, merely ran to where Kenna and several other boys were playing with feather-stuffed leather balls and making figures out of strings.

“Do you really, Laren?”

She still didn’t look at him. “It is what I told Taby.”

“Will you tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It will give you power over me.”

He smiled. “I already have sufficient power over you. I have no need of more.”

“You bray like a goat, Merrik, and you grin shamelessly whilst you do it. I will help Sarla. We will be wedded this afternoon, forget you not.”

“Goats don’t bray, only asses. Is that what you believe me to be, Laren?”

“Nay, you are a man, Merrik.”

“Then why are you holding your hand over your mouth? To keep your laughter behind your teeth? Don’t answer me more, woman. Think about tonight, for then I will take you again. I have missed holding you at night, Laren.”

“It is right and proper that you miss me. It is also right and proper that you not practice on Caylis or Megot. I want you to lie in the bed and think about me. Only me.”

“I cannot even think of Caylis or Megot?” He laughed. He looked at her, then laughed harder. Then he left the longhouse, shaking his head.

The ceremony was brief and in the Viking tradition. All the men stood beside and behind Merrik, the women beside and behind Laren. All wore their finest clothing and jewelry, the women in vivid linen gowns of scarlet, made from oak gall, bright blue, made from woad dyeing, and Laren’s own gown, a beautiful saffron linen made from the bulbs of autumn crocus and presented to her by the women of Malverne. Two freewomen of Malverne knew how to dye wool and linen to perfection and provided all the colored cloth required. Laren had never seen such beautiful colors, even at the court of her uncle Rollo. She wore a woven crown of white daisies. Her hair seemed even redder under the early afternoon sun, shining like a sunset curling nearly to her shoulders.

Taby stood beside Merrik, his small hand tucked securely in Merrik’s. He was scrubbed clean, his face shining, his eyes bright. He was no longer thin. Just to look at him made Laren want to cry and to laugh with the relief and joy of it.

Merrik looked at her and smiled. He took a step toward her. He held out his other hand and she put hers in it. He looked at all his men, then the women and children. He said in a loud clear voice, “There has been much sorrow at Malverne, with the passing of Harald and Tora, and the violent death of Erik, my brother. There has been much change as well. I know it is difficult for you to accept me as the lord of Malverne. I hope that in time you will come to do so easily. Today I take this woman to be my wife. She is the niece of the great Rollo, but her life is here now, with me, with all of you.” He paused a moment, then released Taby’s hand and took both of hers.

“Laren, daughter of Hallad and niece of Rollo of Normandy, this day, before our gods, I take you as my wife. I pray to Freya to grant us long life and many children. I pray to Odin All-Father to see that we keep honor and good faith between us. I defend you with my strength and my sword. All that I own is now yours as well. I will be your husband in all seasons and I will be with you until breath leaves my body.”

Laren had spent several hours preparing what she would say. She hadn’t told anyone that she was a Christian, for Rollo had agreed to accept the faith when he had made the treaty with King Charles, and that included all his family with him. She realized clearly now that Taby would be raised a Christian and she would become a Viking woman in all ways.

So she had thought of what a Viking woman would say. Oddly enough when she was spinning a tale, she knew no fear, only excitement, but now she was nervous, her mouth dry. She was afraid she would shame him, for although she knew the names of most of the Viking gods, she wasn’t certain which ones were most important at a wedding. She looked up at him and realized that he knew of her fear, even though he couldn’t know its cause. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. Still, she was silent. He said quietly, “Vow that you will send me to the pig byre if I dare look at another woman.”

She laughed, a pure rich sound. She said then, “I vow to hold you close to me, Merrik, lord of Malverne. I vow to defend you with voice and deed, and to cleave to you on days of darkness as well as on days of joy. This I promise before all our people and before our gods.”

“You did well,” he said, pulling her to him. “Once I got your tongue to move again. Now you must kiss me.”

He lifted her to her tiptoes and kissed her mouth. She heard the men and women cheering, even heard Taby’s voice calling out. She felt his warmth and his strength and wondered what would happen to them.

He released her, but held her a moment longer, simply looking down at her. Then he called out, “Let us go to the feasting now.”

A dozen long tables had been set outside, each one holding platters of boar steaks, baked cod and herring smothered in cloudberries, and salmon in boiled maple leaves, stacked loaves of rye bread and flatbread, pots of cabbage, peas, sliced apples, roasted onions. There were barrels of mead and barley beer, even dark rich red wine from the Rhineland. The women had done well, more than well, really, and Sarla stood there smiling at her, knowing that she was overcome with it all.

Laren, who had held steady and strong for two years, looked at all the men and women around her, at the magnificent tables of food, and finally at her new husband. She lowered her head and sobbed into her hands.