Blind Allegiance (23 page)

She had prayed for this moment from childhood. The loss of her mother and the corrupt nature of her brother had affected her life so harshly. After years of strife, she wanted to scream to the world how happy she felt in this perfect moment. How she knew in her heart this was the man God intended her to marry. The snow in the trees surrounding the clearing glistened as brightly as stars, a beautiful backdrop for her wedding. She lifted her skirts and eyed the dainty slippers on her feet—decorated with tiny bell-shaped beads and embroidered with gold thread. Her dress was ornamented in the same fashion.

Clasping a hand over his heart, Randvior greeted her, a slight tremor in the hand he offered. Joyful tears threatened to spill again, but she didn’t want Randvior to remember her that way on their wedding day. She must be brave.

The holy man begged their undivided attention, which meant they could no longer stare at each other. But Noelle could barely pry her eyes off her lover. She faced the priest and opened her heart to anything he might say. A pagan wedding vow is better than none at all. The liturgy opened with a prayer spoken in Norse. Noelle cared little if he prayed to the devil himself. She stood at the altar with the man she loved!

Apparently, Randvior arranged for the wedding to be conducted in her language, because the priest started speaking English after the prayer ended. Subtle differences existed in the vows. She stood devotedly and placed her right hand in Randvior’s left so he could slip a thin gold wedding band onto her ring finger. Randvior had taken the elegant circlet from amongst the oath rings on his sword. In turn, she presented a ring to Randvior, after the priest blessed and handed it to her.

Once the rings were sanctified, the priest presented swords. They knelt on tiny silk pillows and bowed their heads as he reenacted the moment Odin breathed life into humankind. Noelle’s gaze strayed often to Randvior’s face, much to the priest’s chagrin.

Randvior squeezed her hand. “Behave little one,” he whispered, eyes dancing.

They exchanged swords and spoke the vows next.

“The gods have commanded men and women to marry and conceive sons and daughters and to raise them to honor the Old Ways. Noelle Marie Sinclair—do you swear before Odin and his sons and daughters to cleave unto this man, to honor and keep yourself unto him all the days of your life and into the hereafter?”

“Aye.”

“Do you renounce your fealty to your English sovereign and pledge allegiance to Jarl Randvior Sigurdsson as your lord and master, husband and protector, spiritual head, and judge?”

“Aye.”

“Randvior Sigurdsson—do you swear before Odin and his sons and daughters to cleave unto this woman, to honor and protect and keep yourself unto her all the days of your life and into the hereafter?”

“Aye.”

“Do you pledge to guide her correctly and gently through this lifetime and nurture her spirit for Odin’s own pleasure?”

“Aye.”

“I Odins navn erklærer jeg dere mann og kone. La ingen utfordring gudene mindre død de søker.”
The priest blessed them and made several revolutions over their heads to ward off evil spirits. “You are bound.”

Randvior embraced and kissed her before he turned to the cabin where a black ram was tethered to a post. He carried the beast to the altar. The priest opened a silver horn he’d removed from his belt and prayed. He anointed the animal with fragrant oil from the horn. Noelle’s attention turned from the priest to her husband. Another blood sacrifice?

“This will assure our marriage is established on a strong foundation.” Randvior raised a dagger overhead and neatly slit the animal’s throat.

No words needed—Odin surely accepted this blood gift.

Chapter 18

Test of Dedication

Dreams did come true after all. The priest served a modest meal; smoked venison, pickled herring, cabbage, bread, and day-old honey cakes. Ambrosial in Noelle’s humble opinion.

Randvior satisfied the priest’s demand for a traditional bridal toast. “To Noelle—you have increased my joy and banished sorrow from my soul. I beseech Frigga to bless and give us many sons and daughters who will serve the gods.”

“Aye!” The holy man gulped down his portion of wine.

After an hour, Randvior announced their quick departure.

“Folkvar, we humbly thank you for your generosity. Odin’s blessings on you, old friend—remember, my door is always open to you and your kinsmen.”

“And many blessings on your house,” he returned. “But somehow, I think those blessings have already begun.” He winked at Noelle.

Once outside, Noelle’s body constricted with anticipation, a premonition of feelings of the night to come. Wound as tightly as a chord, if Randvior so much as blew on the nape of her neck, she’d collapse in a chain of orgasms.

After riding east for what seemed a lifetime, they arrived at a lovely cabin nestled between a stream and cluster of trees. Light flooded outside from the only visible window. Randvior dismounted, left her astride, and walked to the door. Aud and Katherine popped out and hugged him, then smiled in her direction. Noelle stared, shocked and amazed by yet another unexpected surprise. And her husband appeared completely amused. He whispered to Katherine and the maid disappeared inside.

Randvior collected Noelle and they stood by the cabin together. Katherine reappeared with a bowl of breadcrumbs she spread along the front of the cabin.

“Is she feeding the birds?” Noelle thought it a queer thing to do right now.

Randvior’s tittering left her feeling a bit dumb. “She’s leaving food for the fairies, so they won’t curse our bridal bed.”

She laughed at his boyish beliefs, never realizing how seriously he took it. “You
actually
believe in the wee folk?”

“I’ll not deny their existence after the unexplainable things I’ve seen over the years. Let’s just say I prefer not to tempt anything lurking in the shadows. Ask Brandon, he’ll swear on the Blessed Virgin sprites that inhabit these hills and forests.”

Before she could entirely digest the notion of her warrior husband believing in such outlandish things, he scooped her off her feet. Aud cheered him on as Randvior carried her over the threshold. A fire roared in the stone hearth near the doorway and the rest of the room was glowing with the soft light from candles and a metal brazier. The dominate feature in the room was a large bed with lush, velvety coverlets.

She blushed at the oversized bed. Only Randvior would demand such a grand mattress to accommodate his athletics between the sheets.

But other things about the room delighted her, too. An ornamented table with two equally impressive chairs, complete with fine linens and platters of food, was placed near the fireplace. The roasted mutton and boiled cabbage made her mouth water. Her eyes feasted on an assortment of delectable pastries and dried fruits.

“How did they know?” she asked, baffled by her husband’s elaborate preparations.

“I stationed scouts along the roadway days before I found you. I planned our wedding very carefully, was not willing to take any more chances. I told you this already, my love.”

Regardless, she marveled at his attention for detail. She further explored the room; furs covered the earthen floor and feather pillows were neatly arranged near the hearth. Thick blankets overlaid a bearskin.
Did he expect her to make love on the floor?
A bouquet of fresh roses and violets were arranged in a crystal vase on a bed stand.
Blooms this late in the season—where did they come from?
Noelle eyed Aud curiously.

He shrugged. “It’s a secret.” He put his finger to his lips.

Why not? Katherine fed the faeries and now Aud managed to produce roses in the middle of winter. Perhaps magic did exist in Norway.

She wagged a finger at Aud. “If I cannot be privy to the secret, I will at least enjoy their beauty.” She walked to the table and picked up the bouquet. The soft aroma pleased her.

She turned and watched as Randvior spoke quietly with his servants, clasping his captain’s arm with gratitude. “Goodbye,” he said.

Aud and Katherine walked outside, and her new husband shut and locked the door behind them. The moment of truth had arrived, husband and wife alone for the first time. Noelle knew the world had altered the moment they exchanged rings. And now Randvior faced her with a flicker of dark desire in his eyes, which was soon replaced by a generous smile.

“Come,” he motioned toward the table. “Our
true
bridal feast waits.”

Noelle put the bouquet down and joined him. Randvior offered her a chair and she sat. Her lips quivered with anticipation, her insides a tangled mass of bridal nerves.

Acting the gentleman, Randvior bowed and seated himself opposite her. He spooned small portions of food onto her plate and scooped more generous portions for himself. He sampled the meat. Neither of their thoughts was really on the meal, and he looked down at his plate, back at her, and then down again. Then he sprang from his chair and came at her. Noelle dropped her napkin and sighed triumphantly as he claimed her mouth. This is what she wanted—not food—not anything else, but him.

She objected when Randvior broke their kiss and rushed across the room. He rummaged through a trunk and returned with two items in his hands—a gilded box and velvet bag. Noelle took a long sip of wine to avoid the intensity of his lingering stare. Kneeling beside her, he offered the box first.

“In absence of your kinsmen, I offer this as my
mundr—
my bride price.”

Overwhelmed by the elegance of the package, she opened it slowly. Filled with gold bullion, English coins! Confused, she raised questioning eyes.

“My share of the takings from your father’s house. Wealth intended for your own posterity.” He presented the velvet bag next.

Never had she expected such a generous gift, enough gold to make her independently wealthy. With quivering hands, she untied the black ribbon at the mouth of the bag. A strand of perfectly cut rubies and diamonds, fixed between cordiform gold beads—a string long enough to dip between her breasts. The clasp was too intricate for her nervous fingers to work right now. Randvior smiled and did it for her. She gasped, mystified as she fingered the large stones.

“
Morgen-gifu
—my morning gift to my most cherished bride. It is given much too late,” he sighed ruefully. “But I ask you to receive it with all the respect a grateful groom might show his bride on the morning after they share the bridal bed.”

She nodded. The extravagant gifts he presented were more than her father would have ever offered as dowry.

What am I to do?

“I have naught to give, no wedding gift and no dowry.” She lowered her eyes.

He lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “There is nothing conventional about this union. Even if we were blessed with the luxury of time, I would have waived your dowry to prove how much I love you.”

“I beg forgiveness,” she sniffled. “For the dreadful way I misjudged your intentions.”

“Aye,
min lille dukke
, you reacted out of fear and require no forgiveness. I should have handled you more gently.” He lifted her from the chair. “Disrobe for me, I want to see you.”

She undressed seductively, too slowly, determined to punish and reward him at the same time. The only gift she could offer was her body. And Randvior Sigurdsson deserved it. The moment her clothing dropped, he crashed into her as lethal as a tidal wave.

The heat from her body sent a flurry of wild thoughts whipping through his mind. Impure and animalistic. It nearly strangled every ounce of civility left inside him.

Delicate tinder, hungry flame.

The memory of finding her with Sveinn drove him crazy. He wanted to be inside her
now
, share the joys of her body, and blot that bastard out of her memory forever. Randvior unlaced his breeches and blanketed her from behind. He’d fantasized about this position on many occasions and she wiggled playfully before him—inviting him to do as he pleased.

She squirmed and moaned, welcoming him. His hand glided between her legs and found the sensitive spot that sent her body into uncontrollable tantrums. Her thighs were slick with excitement, and Randvior steadied her, while staring longingly at the heart-shaped cheeks that begged for his shaft to plunge between them. He pierced her like an arrow.

She cried out as he entered and he froze midstride.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.

He grinned lasciviously and continued. It felt too damn good to stop. Randvior locked his hands around her stomach and lifted her off the bed. “Stand up for me.”

He gently walked her to the wall. Noelle seemed to know what he wanted and rested her palms against the boards. She arched to accommodate him. He gulped for air—her tiny ass bobbed every time he moved. He closed his eyes and allowed her to control the rhythm.

Beautiful seductress.

“Randvior . . .” she purred. “. . . It feels so good.”

“
Du kommer til å drepe meg, jente.”

Noelle sucked the life force out of him and it took every ounce of mental stamina he possessed not to explode inside her like an unpracticed boy. He withdrew and spun her around. Then draped her across the mattress on her back as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down. Within seconds, they finished together.

Loud pounding yanked Randvior from sleep on the fourth night of his honeymoon. He bolted upright and eyed his sleeping bride tenderly. The poor girl was drained—overwhelmed by his bed play. He’d taken her countless times and in many ways, used her wee body to fulfill every youthful fantasy he had.

The knocking grew more intense and desperate. He growled angrily as he got up and grabbed his sword. He stalked to the door and threw it open.

“Speak!” he thundered, standing stark naked over a boy he dwarfed.

“
Jarl
,” he said. “You’ll not know me. I’m Matheson, one of your newer stable hands. There’s been an attack. Someone set fire to several cabins and many have perished.”