We stopped at the base of stairs leading up to a longhouse. Shields bearing Leif’s insignia hung from the wooden planks. “This is the great hall,” he said, and continued through the door.
Once inside, I paused as I took in the massive room. The ceiling soared above us, while the room itself seemed big enough for one hundred men. Upon every wall was some symbol of death: antlers, skulls, weapons, shields, Leif’s dragon insignia. Even so, the objects were arranged in such a way that there was a wild beauty to them. The smell of smoke wafted over to me from a large fire pit in the middle of the floor. The hall was as dim as a tavern.
On one side of the room sat a dais covered in skins and furs instead of rugs. Two large chairs, their backs and arms made of antlers, waited. Leif stared at them, his lips slightly parted as though surprised.
“Your father had the other made for you,” Zinna said, coming up behind us.
He paused as though taken aback, darting a look toward Zinna that was fraught with confusion and concern. “Has he been so unwell that he hasn’t been able to hear the needs of the village?”
She averted her eyes. “He has made do, but I know he has looked forward to your arrival.”
“I’ll go to him soon.” Leif turned to me. “Shall I show you to your room?” he asked. “You’ve waited for a bath long enough.”
I smiled and followed as he led me into one of the side hallways.
“Is everything all right?” I asked quietly.
“My father was injured long ago, and he’s never really recovered,” Leif said. “He has trouble walking, and at times, the pain is so bad he cannot get out of bed. But he’s always been able to do his duties as jarl.” He let out a pained sigh. “The fact that he has brought in another chair for me can only mean he has become too ill to continue.”
I reached up and touched his cheek. “I’m sorry, Leif,” I said, hating the pain in his eyes.
He took my hand and kissed the palm. “I must go. Do you need anything? Zinna will help you with a bath, and I will return as soon as I can.”
“Of course, go—don’t worry about me.”
This time he kissed my lips gently before leaning in and whispering in my ear, “I look forward to tonight.”
Heat spread outward from the core of me and traveled up my neck. My eyelids fell closed as he pressed another kiss on my neck. I knew I was in danger staying here with Leif. The more I learned of him, the more I felt my convictions toward him disappear.
He had never seemed more human.
After bathing, my skin and hair scented with lavender instead of sweat and seawater, I felt more relaxed than I had in weeks. I waited as long as I could for Leif, but after weeks spent on board a ship with little sleep, I slept like the dead.
The next morning, I opened my eyes to an empty room and immediately squeezed them closed again with a groan. How could I have fallen asleep? I had so badly wanted to be with Leif, especially after having a bath that made me feel attractive again. As I sat up in bed, another thought entered my mind: Had Leif even returned? I wasn’t usually such a deep sleeper, but I must have been more exhausted than I’d thought.
When I finally left my soft bed, I found that Zinna had kindly laid out both a tunic and a gown for me, but in this land I was a stranger to, I preferred to stay in my leather armor. I tugged on the tunic to wear beneath my armor, which, to my surprise, had easily come clean with merely a wet cloth, the leather as soft and supple as it had been when first gifted to me.
A firm knock came at my door, and I opened it to find Leif, dressed in a long belted tunic, leather leggings, silver wolf’s fur mantle, and tall leather boots. A single chain hung around his neck, a dragon biting its tail as the pendant. His hair was freshly washed and braided, his teeth white as he smiled down on me.
Our gazes caught and held, and soon his mouth was descending as I rose to meet him. He tasted of honeyed mead, and as his wide hands took hold of my hips and brought me closer, I nearly pulled him into my room.
“You are so beautiful,” Leif said, “and if I wasn’t sure someone would come and drag us out of this room before we had a chance to enjoy each other, I would gladly forgo greeting our allies.”
I shook my head, but a pleased smile touched my lips. “That’s what you said last night, but you never showed.”
He laughed. “I did, but you were sleeping so peacefully I couldn’t bear to wake you.”
“I didn’t even hear you come in.” I tilted my head. “What kept you?”
A shadow passed over his face. “My father. He is much worse than I’d anticipated.”
I reached out and touched his arm. “I am sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
He grinned. “I can think of a few things you can do to comfort me, but I’m afraid I don’t have time at the moment to dedicate to it.”
“Will a kiss suffice?” I asked, letting out a little laugh as he pulled me toward him.
He kissed me again with a growl of frustration. “Come with me before I change my mind. We’ll walk to the docks, and you’ll see how domestically we live here.”
I followed him back into the quieter hall, where a fire still blazed and many servants hurried about their different tasks. “Do you have cattle and sheep? I won’t consider it truly domestic unless you do.”
“Of course.” He stopped and called over one of the servants, who quickly answered his summons. “Would you bring us some skyr?”
She nodded and hurried away. When she returned again, she brought with her small wooden bowls full of a creamy white food.
“Try it,” Leif said, handing me one of the wooden spoons.
I dipped the spoon in, surprised by how thick it was. When I tasted it, there was a tartness on my tongue but also quite a bit of sweet. “Delicious,” I said. “How do you make it?”
“It’s made from cow’s milk strained through cloth. We usually make it when we make our cheese.”
This was much more domestic than I’d ever imagined the Northmen being, but I refused to admit I’d only ever thought of them eating raw meat and drinking ale and mead. We continued out of the longhouse and made our way through the village. Everyone we passed was busily working—the blacksmith hammering horseshoes, a fisherman gutting his fish, women weaving baskets, and children laughing and playing. There was no great show of notice when Leif passed by. He was one of them, not someone to be worshipped as many of our kings were.
The smell of the sea blew in on the breeze, triggering a painful homesickness. I thought of my sisters and Máthair. I could almost feel the softness of Deirdre’s hair, or the fierceness of Branna’s hugs. Soon, I promised them.
A low horn sounded from the shore behind us, and I turned toward the sound, my eyes scanning the distant waters.
Leif did the same. “One of my father’s allies has answered my summons,” he said as the ships’ banners came into view. “We will need all the help we can get for the battle against Fenris.”
Though there was no danger, my heart continued to race along in my chest. A low horn sounding and dragon-prow ships in the water had a different meaning for me, though even in this, my heart was changing.
Many of the villagers were already down at the quay to await the Northmen who had come. Two new ships now stood next to Leif’s, and the occupants were watching my army still on board them with as much distrust as the villagers had shown.
As the newcomers disembarked, I searched for their leader, curious to see who would be fighting alongside us. A slow smile took my face by surprise when I saw who it was.
A woman.
There was no doubt she was the leader, with her beautiful mantle of sable fur atop leather armor and longsword strapped to her hip. Her hair was worn in intricate blond braids upon her head, and her face was as fierce and angular as an eagle’s. The men followed in her wake as she approached us.
“Rúna,” Leif said. They clasped hands in greeting before she pulled Leif in for a firm embrace.
“I have brought you forty men,” she said. Her green eyes shifted to mine. “You are the Celtic queen?”