“It is a well-known fact I have a daughter of astonishing beauty, a young woman who unfortunately finds all men unworthy of her attentions. I have been lenient in the past, Olgrethe, not overly concerned with your willfulness, but I have received a most intriguing offer for you, my dear, from an enemy I respect too greatly to ignore.”
Frightened by her father’s tone, Olgrethe swallowed hard. “Who might this enemy be that you would consider sending him your only daughter?”
“Aldred Vandahl, and he suggests a marriage to rejoin our families in the bond of friendship my father severed with his uncle’s death. You will become the bride of one of his sons, to put an end to the feud that has existed between us my entire lifetime.”
Olgrethe leaped to her feet and clenched her fists defiantly at her sides. “How dare he offer such an absurd bargain! We are strong, we need no such truce with the Vandahls as to require my marriage to one of their vile kind.”
Raktor frowned at his pretty child’s outburst. She was the image of her mother, a lady whose death he still mourned, and he attempted to explain his reasoning more clearly. “Our strength is considerable, that is true, but we are not so strong as Aldred, and he knows it.”
“Then why would he have offered such a truce if he has no need? Is it a trap of some kind, a bit of treachery you fail to recognize?” she suggested in a valiant attempt to dissuade her father from the course of action she was sadly afraid he had already chosen.
Raktor nodded thoughtfully. “Such a possibility also crossed my mind, as his offer came so unexpectedly. I do not know what his purpose might be, if it is not the one he declares, but we must not refuse this gesture without considering it fully, when it may be more to our benefit than to his.” The heavyset man leaned forward and gestured for his daughter to approach him.
“Aldred has four sons, none married, so it is Mylan, his eldest, whom he has offered as your husband.”
“Mylan? But is he not the one who was attacked by a bear and slain by the beast two winters ago? Was that not Mylan who died?” she asked.
Raktor waved aside
her questions. “The man was merely mauled, not killed. He has recovered sufficiently to wed.”
Olgrethe could feel the net tightening around her and cried out in desperation. “But was Mylan not engaged to Remald’s eldest daughter, Estrid? Surely Aldred wants Estrid for his son, not me!”
Raktor seemed surprised. “How could you have heard such gossip? That engagement is long over, the girl refused to consent to a marriage with Mylan for some reason, and her father allowed it. I will not.”
“Refused him? You mean she would not marry a man left so badly scarred by the bear he is no doubt hideous? That is the real reason Aldred has come to you, isn’t it? He wants a wife for his son, and no other woman will have him. That is his trick, an enticing offer of peace to secure a wife for a man who can no longer win his own bride.”
Growing impatient, Raktor interrupted crossly, “Aldred has four sons, I have only one daughter among my six children to offer as a bride to seal this bargain. If it is to our advantage to make this truce, then you will go. I know of no Viking who is without marks from one battle or another. Whatever the man’s scars, they should not offend you. Now be still about it.”
“No, I will not!” Olgrethe’s fury blazed brightly in her deep blue eyes. “The Vandahls have never seen me, you may send them any woman, and they will not realize they have been deceived!”
Raktor scoffed at such an outrageous ruse. “He offers a marriage to create a peace for all time between our families, and I send him an imposter for my daughter? Your treachery outstrips mine, Olgrethe, but no other has your beauty, and it is well known.”
Seeing the light of possibility in her father’s eyes, Olgrethe grew more bold. “There is one, my slave, Celiese. Shall I summon her?”
Raktor chuckled as he nodded. “Yes, I must see her before we continue to plan this remarkable deception you suggest.” He laughed heartily then, pleased by his daughter’s cleverness, for he greatly admired deceit as a tactic in battle and was glad to see she possessed such sharp wits.
Olgrethe rushed to her room and with no more than the briefest of explanations grabbed Celiese by the hand and dragged her hurriedly into her father’s presence. “You see, she is a beauty, just as I told you. Although she is more fair, we are nearly the same size, and our features are not dissimilar. In fine garments there would be none at Aldred’s home who could say she is not your daughter.”
Celiese was horrified by her mistress’s words. She seldom left their quarters, did not pass through the large home without Olgrethe by her side, and had no desire to be shown off to her father and brothers.
Raktor’s eldest son, a brute named Oluf, leaned over and whispered something that made the older man laugh out loud. “No, you may not have this pretty girl as a bed slave first. Only a virgin is a suitable bride for a Viking.”
Encouraged by her father’s words, Olgrethe continued, “She speaks our language fluently. She has been with me for more than five years and knows all our ways. She could easily fool any of the Vandahls.”
Celiese’s eyes widened in alarm as she realized they were arguing over her future. Olgrethe had always been selfish, but what had made her believe they could carry off such an impossible deceit? How could she possibly pretend to be the daughter of a man she despised?
Growing bored, Raktor rose to his full height. A robust man, he presented a menacing sight, indeed. “Enough. Take her and leave us. We will discuss this amongst ourselves, and if I decide upon this treaty then I believe you can be persuaded to wed Mylan Vandahl without further argument. Do you understand me?”
Olgrethe nodded, for she knew better than to persist in her defiance when her father’s blue eyes glowed with the same cold light as his burnished steel sword. If he chose, he could make her life painfully difficult, and it was not a threat she dared question tonight. Taking Celiese’s hand firmly in hers, she withdrew to her quarters.
*
“What are we to do, Celiese?”
Feeling deeply betrayed, Celiese watched Olgrethe’s frustration grow to near hysteria before she spoke. “There is no time to lose. You must ask your father to send for his sister immediately. We need Helga here now.”
“Yes! That’s what we’ll do. I’ll ask him to send for her at first light.” Olgrethe gazed into her servant’s pain-filled eyes. She had sacrificed her beloved companion to save herself, but she was far too proud to feel even a faint wave of guilt. “I’ve always been kind to you, haven’t I?”