I would join them, and I would show them just what a woman could do.
My father, Crinnin, Bethóc and the rest of the party headed out across the narrow walkways and into the adjacent field. The Jarl and his men followed with me hanging from his arm like a garland.
The sun had reached the highest point of its sunwise arc, though the fragments of scattered clouds cast shadows from my father’s falconers, like huge warriors against the long grass.
There were eight in total. Eight men and eight birds. More prized than any of his daughters.
The Jarl bent down to me and whispered in my ear. ‘Which hawk is yours?’
As he said it, a ninth falconer appeared with Drest gripped onto the leather of his glove. Elpin. There may have been nothing between us but in that moment, I wanted to throw my arms around him. With Drest, nothing would stop me.
‘The last one.’
I could hear the tinkle of his bell as he shook his tawny head trying to dislodge the hood. Elpin had given him to me as a gift. That bird had always been my salvation.
My father cursed under his breath. ‘I thought I’d told you, I only wantedmyfalcons,’ he barked at Crinnin. ‘Make no mistake,’ he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. ‘If you let that bastard fly, I’ll wring its neck.’
I had not come so far to simply back down.
The Jarl studied Drest with the amazement of a child. ‘Why does he not want your bird to fly?’ He had not taken his eyes off it, turning his head this way and that. Taking in every feather and every talon.
‘Women are not permitted to hunt, Jarl Sigurd.’ Crinnin answered on my behalf. ‘Do not slacken your vigilance, they can be wily creatures, the daughters of King Malcolm.’ A smile formed beneath his beard. ‘Lady Olith in particular.’
Crinnin knew of my notoriety. Strange. Mad. Peculiar. I found out later that Bethóc had told him of my wandering unaccompanied with nought but a bird on my arm.
The Jarl let out a throaty laugh. ‘All of our women are wily, it will serve her well.’ He turned to me. ‘Show me. I want to see you fly your bird.’
‘The decision is my father’s.’
‘King Malcolm.’ Sigurd shouted over the din. ‘Surely, my lord, you will see to it that I can see my new bride fly this falcon.’
‘I am still unsure about my daughter flying a falcon. It seems unnecessary.’
My father did not agree with women hunting.
‘What is it you fear my lord?’ said Sigurd.
My father was silent for a moment. It had suited him to keep me hidden. As a plaything for his drunken kinsmen when he feltlike it. Now, he had to decide whether or not to reveal my true nature.
He studied the Dane. ‘Very well, Jarl Sigurd but it is unseemly for a woman to take up such a pursuit and I have never allowed my daughter lessons.’ He waved a hand. ‘But if you feel the need to insert yourself between the affairs of a father and a daughter, as her husband, I will allow it. Elpin, give it to her.’
Elpin brought Drest over, placing him on my fist. He would not look at me. He could not take his eyes off the Jarl. He crossed back to stand with the rest of the falconers.
‘It is a beautiful thing, no?’ said the Jarl.
Drest stretched out his wings, flight feathers fanned in anticipation.
‘HE is.’ I slipped the hood from his head revealing inky black eyes blinking rapidly. ‘I have given him a name.’
There was the slight flicker of a smile beneath his beard. ‘What is it?’
‘Drest.’
‘We will hunt wild quarry,’ my father shouted. ‘The first successful kill will see a winner and then we can return to our mead.’ His churchmen and bishops’ voices all grated with the falsity of their laughs.
I made those men pay, but my biggest regret was Sigurd had not been there to bear witness.
‘You must show him that you are to be treated with respect, Lady Olith,’ the Jarl said gently. ‘You are to be my wife; our women are as feared as our men. Show him. Show the King that you are a match for him.’
