Ranulf, who styled himself the Berserker King, was sprawled on a dais of furs.Two half-naked women were feeding him what appeared to be salted herring, and a third woman was rubbing her hands up and down his shoulders, oiling them.
It was the picture of decadence that Toran himself eschewed.He despised the trappings of power that came with his station and avoided them whenever possible.
Ranulf looked him up and down and guffawed.“Ye smell like the horse ye claim to be.I’d be offended by your unkempt appearance but I know you Keltoi stand on less ceremony than we do.”
“I heeded your summons as soon as I received it and I’ve brought what you requested.I am ready to honor the bargain you propose and take your daughter to wife if you’ll lend your fleet to my aid.”
The man straightened and glowered at Toran.“I’ll see the gold first.I’ll agree to nothing until I’m sure it’s real.”
“Fine,” Toran said as he waved his men forward.They set the two chests he’d brought on the floor and stepped back.Toran crossed his arms and stood his ground.He wouldn’t be intimidated into receiving less than what he’d been promised.
When Ranulf realized his intimidation tactics wouldn’t work, he leaned back with another bellow of laughter.“My spies told me you had a heart of iron, each uisge.I see they did not exaggerate.You’ll need your fortitude to keep my bloodthirsty daughter from cutting your throat whilst you sleep.”
The portrait of his intended bride, teeth bared in a snarl, ready to leap across the bow of her ship, flashed through his thoughts.“I met my bride at the harbor.”
The berserker chief’s brow rose at that.“She should not have been there.She was instructed to remain in her chambers until she was summoned for the ceremony.It will take place tomorrow at dusk - here in the great hall.”
“I have brought my brehon so that the customs of my people may be observed as well.”
“You’ll carve your sigil on her?”One of the men at the king’s side spoke up.Presumably the son and heir.
“The union is not valid unless she receives the sigil.Not in the eyes of our gods.”
The man harrumphed.“Our sister is likely to spit in your face when you propose it.”
Toran shrugged.“If she refuses the sigil, the bargain itself is done and I will demand the return of the bride price.”
The king guffawed.“Oh, I’d like to see you try to reclaim her mundr.”
“I paid her mundr in exchange for your ships.If she refuses the sigil, it means her loyalty is questionable.If I cannot trust my bride, I demand the return of the not insignificant fortune I’ve provided you with.”
Rannulf’s expression darkened.“I will ensure she submits to the union and the ceremony it requires.Even if I must strip her back bloody with my whip.”
Among Toran’s kind, even disobedient children were seldom whipped.He inwardly recoiled at the thought of the fierce woman he’d met at the docks having her spirit broken in such a way.“I will converse with her if I must.”
“There is a feast tonight, but she rarely deigns to attend.You’ll find her in a lodge on the edge of the village with a black fire rune etched into the door.”
“It would be wise to seek her out,” one of the sons interjected as he swallowed nervously while looking askance at his father.
“I shall take my leave and do just that," Toran said with a curt bow and turned on his heel.
Chapter Three
Athighnoon,midwaythrough Brunhild’s twelfth summer, she saw one of her father’s warrior’s stab her mother in the back in the midst of battle.The lethal blow was delivered at the behest of her father, because her mother had refused to surrender her fleet and her freedom as she’d surrendered her body.When Brunhild had visited the seer in the hopes her own path would be revealed, the vola had revealed the part she’d played in the death of Freydis, Shield Maiden of Inisholt.The vola had foreseen Ranulf’s treachery when she’d cast the bones, and had kept the knowledge to herself.
Brunhild had fled the woman’s cave in horror, knowing if she raised her own hand in vengeance, she’d be cast out, forever disfavored by the gods.She’d fled, and she’d become the Cut-Throat Maiden and Bringer of Fire.She’d borne the bitter knowledge she’d gleaned in silence and avoided the vola.
Until now.
She needed to know if death nipped at her heels, if she was truly meant to leave the rise and fall of the waves behind her and follow the shapeshifter king to his island.
When she lifted the mallet and tapped the bronze bell that hung outside the cave, the wind sang eerily through the leaves.
“Come to me, Brunhild, daughter of Freydis.I have been waiting for you.”
Brunhild took a deep breath and brushed aside the vines that covered the opening.The vola was crouched before a fire ring, staring into the flames.
“Your silence was a betrayal to my mother.I’ve come before you because there was no other choice.I must know if the gods and the goddesses have a plan.If my father is unwittingly working to carve the path they’ve designed for me.”