The Warrior's Viking Bride

by Michelle Styles

  ‘Fight! Fight!’ screamed her former men.

  Olafr blew on his nails. ‘Very well, if you insist on challenging, I will fight you. I’ve never thought your skills up to much. Shall I give you time to change?’

  Dagmar set her jaw. Olafr would find a way to use it to his advantage and she refused to risk Aedan or any of his men. And it would give her the opportunity to demonstrate that clothes did not make a difference; skills were what counted. ‘No need. I can fight one such as you in these clothes.’

  ‘Always the impetuous one, Dagmar. I look forward to helping you on your journey to Valhall.’

  She turned back to Aedan. ‘Aedan, may I borrow your shield and sword?’

  ‘Of course.’ He handed her his weapons. ‘You can do this, Dagmar. I have faith. It doesn’t matter what he says. I know what your fighting skills are. I’ve seen them in action. I might wish you didn’t have to fight him, but there is no one I trust more with the defence of Kintra.’

  Dagmar stared up at the clouds and blinked rapidly. His words of encouragement gave her heart. He understood why she was doing this.

  ‘I love you, Aedan. I wanted to say it aloud, if just once.’

  Something in his eyes flared. ‘I look forward to you saying it more than once. Are you sure you don’t want to change?’

  She shook her head. ‘He will attack Kintra if I do. I don’t trust him.’

  ‘We can hold him.’

  ‘I refuse to take that risk.’ She met his eyes. ‘Trust my judgement. I will demonstrate to the women and men of Kintra that it is actions, not clothes, which make a warrior.’ She hesitated. ‘Should I fall...’

  ‘Should you fall, I will finish him off, but life would not be worth living for me without you. You will succeed. You will avenge Old Alf and save my kingdom.’

  She took several practice swipes with the sword. She had to admit the sword was well balanced. She would have preferred a slightly smaller shield, but she could adjust.

  ‘Shall we begin, Olafr?’

  Olafr made a mocking bow. ‘You think you are so good, Dagmar, but you are nothing. Your mother used to despair of you.’

  ‘My mother had terrible judgement about certain things.’ She beat the sword against the shield. ‘Begin!’

  He charged. Dagmar raised her shield and easily blocked the blow. Round and round they went, Olafr probing and Dagmar blocking and testing, waiting until he made a mistake. She had to admit that he could fight.

  Olafr began to swagger a bit, adding little flourishes to his moves, and she knew she had him. When she judged the moment right, she struck a blow towards his left. But he brought his shield down on her arm, causing her to drop the sword. Her feet tangled with her skirt and she stumbled backwards as he kicked the sword from her reach. She swore under her breath at her own stupidity.

  ‘Bad luck, Shield Maiden!’ Olafr circled his sword above his head. ‘Prepare to die!’

  She gave a look at Aedan. He nodded and she knew what she had to do. Her hand went to her dagger and she counted.

  Olafr gave a mocking smile. ‘I always knew you weren’t that good.’

  ‘No, I am better.’ Dagmar launched herself from the ground, throwing her dagger at the same instant, and connected with his throat.

  Olafr gave a gurgle and fell to the ground. Dagmar picked up his sword and finished him off.

  Led by Aedan, the people of Kintra began to chant her name. Dagmar raised the sword above her head.

  ‘I claim the felag as mine to do what I will with. To go where I say.’

  Her erstwhile men knelt down, accepting her leadership. Several called out that they had not realised the depth of Olafr’s treachery until today and they would follow her to the ends of the earth.

  Her body began to tremble. She had done it. She had regained her felag. Dagmar saw her mother’s sail flapping in the faint breeze and knew she had finally proved herself worthy. And she also knew that she never wanted to fight again. There were no new worlds she wanted to conquer. She wanted to make lives better. She wanted to have children. She wanted to sit and watch sunsets with the man she loved beside her.

  ‘Dagmar,’ Aedan said, coming to stand beside her. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Give me three of your most trusted men.’

  Aedan called them forward.

  ‘Take Olafr’s body to my father in one of your currachs. Tell him that I did what his men failed to do. Ask him to send his best captain. There is a ship he can add to his fleet. In the meantime, put these men under guard. Those who prove loyal to me may stay here if they choose, but my father will deal the others.’

  Aedan stiffened beside her.

  ‘A problem?’

  ‘With your orders, no. If some have been loyal, we will find a place for them and their families somewhere on Ile, but Father Cathan approaches and I could really do without his pomposity.’

  Father Cathan was hurrying forward with a broad smile. Dagmar felt her elation seep from her. Aedan caught her hand.

  ‘Stay with me whatever happens, Dagmar. It is your turn to trust me,’ Aedan said in an undertone.

  Dagmar forced her feet to still. ‘I will stay.’

  Father Cathan stopped and his smile became a disdainful look. ‘Lord Aedan, your wife. She has blood on her gown.’

  ‘Father Cathan, it appears we are to have a double celebration.’

  The priest stopped and tugged at his collar. ‘A double celebration?’

  ‘My wife has saved this land from the threat of a Northern raid. You should be on your knees thanking her.’

  ‘I intend to have a service of thanksgiving.’ The priest gave a superior smile. ‘I felt certain my prayers assisted in some small measure. But why two celebrations?’

  ‘I assume you did the decent thing and asked Mhairi to be your bride. She is the mother of your unborn child, is she not?’

  Father Cathan turned bright red. ‘For the sake of my career, she refused me. I have suggested she join a convent. She has promised that she will think about it.’

  ‘Who suggested she volunteer as a hostage?’ Aedan asked grimly.

  His eyes settled anywhere but on Aedan’s face. ‘It was her idea.’

  ‘A pity for you. I regret it, but I cannot allow someone who would behave in that manner to preach to my people. The bishop will be informed.’ Aedan put his arm about Dagmar’s waist and pulled her close. ‘Father Alcuin will take the service of thanksgiving.’

  ‘But the bishop...’

  ‘A good bishop requires his priests to set an example,’ Dagmar declared. ‘He will take a dim view of such things, particularly when a king like my husband makes the full circumstances known. He will also commend Father Alcuin on the number of souls he has managed to convert.’

  Father Cathan went white. ‘I shall pack my bags immediately. I can tell where I am not wanted. There is an abbey in Ireland which will take me.’

  ‘Mhairi may remain here until she decides what she wishes to do with her life,’ Dagmar continued. ‘Regardless of her motives, volunteering to be a hostage was a very brave thing to do. It may be that one of my men finds favour with her.’

  Aedan inclined his head. ‘My wife gives excellent counsel. I suggest you take it. If it was up to me, I would send you to preach in the north lands. Thankfully for you, my wife is of a gentler nature.’

  The priest gulped and scurried off.

  ‘I believe that problem is solved,’ Dagmar said with a laugh. ‘I had not guessed that the priest was her lover.’

  ‘It was the only thing which made sense.’ He put a hand under her elbow and her body thrilled to his touch. ‘But there are other more pressing problems. Will you wear trousers and tunic to the service or something else? Your gown has seen better times.’

  Dagmar smiled back at him. Her inclination was to wear
the trousers and she nearly said so, but there was a devilment in his eyes. He expected her to.

  ‘I’ll check the trunk my father supposedly kept for me before I make up my mind.’ She lifted her chin. ‘It may be that my former nurse chose well. It is wrong for me to waste time hating cloth. It is the person who wears the clothes who matters. My stepmother is dead along with her prophetic dreams. That should be enough.’

  ‘You haven’t been tempted to look before now?’

  ‘I thought such things were best left in the past.’

  ‘Sometimes, you have to confront your past in order to grab hold of your future. I learned that lesson today.’ His eyes sparkled with hidden lights before sobering. ‘I am here with you, Dagmar, whatever you find, whatever you decide to wear because you are my beloved and nothing will change that.’

  * * *

  Not allowing herself second thoughts, Dagmar opened the lid of the trunk. It was completely full of cloth. She doubted if her former nurse could have packed it any tighter. First were several lengths of richly embroidered cloth—one for each name day her father had missed. She carefully laid them to one side.

  Underneath a dark-green apron dress shot with silver embroidery lurked the sort of dress that a lady might wear to a great feast, but it was clear from the motifs and the colours that it had been woven with her stepmother’s dark beauty in mind.

  ‘A pretty enough dress,’ Aedan said. ‘What do you think?’

  Dagmar gave a tight smile. ‘I’d rather go naked. It is a colour my stepmother favoured. Her assassins used to wear such a device.’

  ‘Clothes do not kill,’ Aedan said, laying a hand on her shoulder. ‘You survived and her dreams are dust.’

  ‘But I still have the memories. Perhaps it can be given to Mhairi as a thank you.’

  His eyes bulged. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘I can afford to be generous and it will irritate her no end.’ Dagmar gave a soft laugh. ‘Had she not goaded me earlier, our marriage would have continued to disintegrate. I feel as though I have our fellowship back.’

  He captured a hand and raised it to his lips. ‘This is one fellowship which will not break.’

  ‘I hate proving you right. It may have to be the trousers and tunic after all.’

  He gave a husky laugh. ‘Next time we shall have to wager on it and you can pay a forfeit. In private.’

  Dagmar concentrated on the trunk. The words telling him how much she loved him threatened to spill out. He made her feel as though she belonged. ‘That might make losing more palatable.’

  ‘Is there anything else? Anything that might work or is it all your stepmother?’

  She gingerly moved the dress and gasped. ‘I thought this had been destroyed!’

  She carefully lifted up a crimson gown with its heavy gold embroidery on the hem. A faint lavender scent intermingled with something which reminded her of her childhood rose. Her body began to tremble. ‘I can’t do this.’

  Aedan took the gown from her. ‘Did this belong to your mother? You have tears in your eyes.’

  Dagmar blinked rapidly. ‘She was wearing it the day my father brought my stepmother home. The faintest whiff of my mother’s scent lingers. Impossible after all this time, I know.’

  ‘Stranger things have happened.’

  ‘I thought I had lost everything except the clothes I stood up in and then to find this.’

  ‘I know.’ Aedan gave the gown back to her. ‘I know how you treasured your mother.’

  Dagmar fingered the material as the memories assaulted her, taking her back to that fateful time when her only thoughts had been to escape from doing sword practice. ‘I can remember her doing the embroidery. I had forgotten she could sew with such a fine hand. She’d promised me that she’d wear it for my name day.’ She paused, remembering. ‘Underneath it, she wore her shield-maiden clothes. I remember when she first tried it on. She’d made her decision before he returned. Or maybe she always wore them, just waiting for her chance to leave.’

  Aedan took the dress from her nerveless fingers. ‘Whatever happened it wasn’t your fault. You were their child. You were the innocent bystander in their marriage which became a war.’

  Dagmar gave a sigh and peered further into the trunk. ‘Her brooches are there as well, the ones which had belonged to her mother. She always claimed he’d destroyed them in front of her.’

  ‘She kept you safe in her own way.’

  Another memory assaulted her. Before her father had left on that fateful voyage, she had heard her parents quarrelling, something that had become commonplace. His father accused her mother of not wanting any more children, a charge she denied, but they had slept in separate chambers after that.

  ‘Yes, she kept me safe. She was a good mother in her way. She wanted to prepare me for a hostile world.’

  ‘Why did she become a shield maiden in the first place?’

  Dagmar rocked back on her heels. ‘Her stepmother wanted the estate for her half-brother after her father died. She was made to fetch and carry like a slave before she rebelled. She took the inheritance she thought she was due and made her own way.’

  ‘She had reason to fear the same for you. It sounds as though your parents made their decision and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The only people who can save a marriage are the people in that marriage.’

  Dagmar buried her nose in the gown and it was like having her mother’s warm embrace wrap around her. ‘She once caught me looking at my scrap of parchment and laughed at me for desiring such a house. She was a restless spirit. Every time we amassed enough gold, she found a reason why we couldn’t settle, why we had to fight one more season. She loved the drums of war in a way I could never understand. I loved her, but I want something different from my life. You’ve shown me that my life has many possible pathways, not just one narrow one.’

  Aedan put a hand on her shoulder. She covered it with her hand. ‘Are there any more hidden treasures?’

  ‘I think that is all.’ She hit the bottom board, but it tilted slightly. ‘Wait, there is a false bottom.’

  She removed the board and discovered a deerskin-wrapped bundle. She rapidly undid the knots and the tanned hide fell away.

  Inside was a dark-blue gown with a set of ribbons and a pair of matching slippers—all the right size for a ten-year-old girl along with a pouch filled with gold coins. Dagmar felt the tears well in her eyes. A single drop escaped and stained the cloth before she could wipe it away.

  ‘He brought me a blue dress for my name day, not just a woman to teach me to be a lady. He did remember.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The day my parents divorced was my tenth name day. I had asked for a proper gown so I could become a lady. I had some notion about being allowed to stay up late at feasts so I could hear the skald sing properly rather than straining my ears. He brought my stepmother instead to teach me to be the lady I had wanted to be. I thought it might be all my fault that he fell in love with her. If I hadn’t asked for the dress...’

  Dagmar put her hand to her head as her mind reeled. Her nurse was right. She had been looking at things with the eyes of a child. ‘Maybe he intended to send the chests. Maybe my mother never asked for them. She always said that she was not going to look back, that she wanted to face the future. The truth might be complicated.’

  ‘What are you going to do with it?’

  ‘Save it until we have a little girl. My father is not perfect, but he remains my father and I hope he loves me.’ Her voice trembled on the last words.

  Aedan gathered her hands between his. ‘Whether your father loves you or not matters little because you are loved. Your mother loved you. Mor loves you and most importantly I love you.’

  Dagmar stilled. ‘You do? How could you possibly?’

  Aedan nodded and his eyes g
rew warm. ‘One of the biggest regrets of my life is that I did not ask you to marry me—properly before your father forced my hand.’

  Dagmar stared at him. ‘You wanted to marry me? You weren’t doing it out of duty?’

  ‘After I learned the truth about my brother and how selfish he truly was, I became like one of the dead walking. You brought me back to the land of the living. I told you that you had to think of other things beyond a life dedicated to war, but you made me think of a life beyond duty. You gave meaning back to my life.’

  ‘Is that why you lingered in my father’s hall when he was asking me to choose a husband?’

  ‘I was silently offering up prayers to whoever might listen that somehow everything would fall in my favour, that I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to you.’ He pulled her tight against his chest. ‘I cannot offer you my heart because you already have it. You’ve had it since your face lit up when I returned with the fish.’

  ‘You were very tardy in giving me your heart. You had mine when you took me through the marsh.’

  ‘It is why we need to stay together. I cannot live without my heart by my side. Should you wish it, we can go adventuring together.’

  Dagmar’s heart soared and she knew she was busy making dreams in clouds, but they were good dreams and dreams she’d work hard to make come true. ‘I spoke from my heart when I told my father you are the only man for me, the only man I have ever wanted as husband. You make me feel beautiful in a way that no one else has ever done. You made me realise that there is a life beyond war and fighting and that I want to live that life. I want to have your children and watch them grow without fear for the future. I want to spend time watching the flowers grow, but I want to do it with you by my side. I want to put down roots and that means staying at Kintra and keeping these people safe.’

  He drew her into the circle of his arms. ‘My being married to you has little to do with your father becoming my ally and everything to do with you. This afternoon when the sword slipped from your hand and you were at Olafr’s mercy, I felt as though my life had ended. Without you in my world, it is utterly meaningless. We go wherever you want to, Dagmar.’