“Take care, Fia, I will pray for you,” Tavia called out more concerned that she would have no chance to see her again than respond to her husband who had been right about her leg.

“She will need it once the legendary warrior arrives,” Bhric said.

“Are you so afraid of her that you would not look upon her or say a word to her?” Tavia accused as he climbed the stairs with her in his arms with ease.

“I will give no demon or witch a chance to have any power over me. I rule with a strength I will not see challenged and you would be wise to remember that.”

He sat her on the bed once they entered her bedchamber.

“Rest,” he ordered with a harsh bite and turned to leave.

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “You will not stay the night with me?”

He turned. “Until I determine for certain that I will keep you as my wife, I will not seek your bed.”

While she was relieved to hear that he would not seek her bed, she was shocked and worried that he questioned whether he would remain in the marriage. She had not expected that. This marriage had to succeed, her clan depended on it.

“The documents have been signed,” she reminded as if nothing more needed to be discussed.

“But until the marriage is consummated, you are not officially my wife,” he reminded.

“My clan needs this marriage,” she said and disliked sounding as if she begged.

“Mine does not, though when, if it should,” —he made sure to clarify— “it is consummated, I will fully commit to it. Never will we part,” he said and left the room.

Tears flooded her eyes, and she brushed them away. She had not been wise in dealing with her husband. She allowed anger and her own disappointment to interfere with her duties. This marriage was not about what she wanted or hopes of love, it was to benefit her clan. She needed to remember that when dealing with her husband. She had to make the most of this marriage whether she wanted to or not. Dreams of finding love with the man she wed was just that—dreams.

Tomorrow was another day, and she would do her best to secure this marriage so that her clan would prosper.

* * *

“Are you keeping her or not?” Sven asked the next morning, snow flurries falling as they walked through the village.

“I do not know,” Bhric said, having slept little last night, the thought heavy on his mind.

“She is a pretty little thing,” Sven said.

“She is that, though as you said… little. I could squash her with one arm.” Bhric recalled how light she was to carry in his arms. It was as if he carried nothing at all.

“That is true,” Sven agreed.

“She has no strength to defend herself and I cannot be with her all the time.”

“Also true,” Sven agreed again. “I know Ingrid can easily defend herself. She has done so against me when I have drunk too much, or I have become too demanding with her.”

Bhric laughed. “I have seen the results. Your jaw was bruised for a week. Besides, that is what you get for marrying my sister. She is a true Northwoman, strong and proud.”

Sven laughed as well and rubbed his jaw. “That she is, and I deserved what she gave me, and I have not done it since, especially now with her being with child. I would hate myself if I hurt her or the bairn, I mean rind.” He shook his head. “We have been friends so long that I use your language instead of Norse.”

“I do the same,” Bhric admitted. “Does Ingrid mind living here or does she wish to go home.”

“She goes where I go and makes no protest. Would your wife do the same? Even join you on a visit to our motherland?”

“A good question,” Bhric said and wondered over it. Would Tavia be a dutiful enough wife to follow him anywhere without protest?

“There is quite a bit of work to be done around here, but I have no doubt Birger will see it done,” Sven said. “He was a wise choice to lead the task.”

“Birger is a good man and large enough that no one will defy him. He will see it all done.”


Tags: Donna Fletcher Historical