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Regin stuck his chest out and his face took on a stubborn cast. ‘Sayrid would never raise her sword against me. She is only saying these things because she doesn’t want to see me injured in a fight.’
Sayrid winced, knowing what Regin said was true. She might bluster, but she could never attack Regin or for that matter the men who stood behind him. They had served her family for too long and too well.
The men beat their swords against their shields in agreement with Regin and shouted ‘Sayrid! Sayrid!’
Regin circled his arms, encouraging them.
‘The numbers may be on your side.’ Hrolf stroked his chin. ‘What about a contest between you and me? Here and now? Settle the matter once and for all. I fought your sister for the right to marry her. But I will fight you as well.’
Her brother’s hand twitched over his sword.
‘Think about Blodvin and your child, Regin,’ she whispered, staring at him hard and speaking to him like she used to when he was a boy and their father had just asked him to do something impossible. ‘Let me take care of it. In my way and in my fashion. Trust me.’
Sweat trickled down her back and each heartbeat took longer. Silently she willed Regin to see sense and leave his sword in its hilt.
‘You think I’m a useless warrior, Sayrid. Is that it? Deep down, you believe the same as our father?’ Regin drew out his sword and swayed. The stench of sour ale wafted over Sayrid. ‘You will see, Sayrid, I can fight. Your little brother is better than you think. I challenge you, Hrolf Eymundsson!’
‘Regin! Respect my wishes! It is my wedding day.’ Sayrid turned towards her new husband. Hrolf stood completely still, but his stance remained one of a warrior about to go into battle. ‘My brother reeks of drink. Where is the glory in fighting a drunkard?’
A muscle jumped in Hrolf’s jaw. ‘He is old enough to know when it is appropriate to issue such a challenge.’
‘It would be an ill omen to start the marriage with a feud.’ She concentrated on Hrolf’s face. ‘Allow him to sober up. He will apologize then. Today is about celebrating the joining of two families.’
‘He drops his sword first. At my feet.’
‘Go, Regin, leave,’ she whispered into the silence which followed.
Instead there was a sharp hiss as Regin drew his sword. Giving into instinct, Sayrid put her hand out and blocked his wrist. The fragile dress material gave way under her arm and across her back with a loud rip. Regin froze.
Sayrid clutched the remaining bit together, grateful for Hrolf’s cloak which would hide any scars or flesh.
‘Just bother,’ she muttered.
Hrolf turned around with a glower. At the sight of her difficulties, he lifted his brow. ‘Problems, Valkyrie?’
‘What were you going to do with that?’ she asked her brother, wrenching the sword away from him. It was far easier to concentrate on her brother’s misdemeanours than to worry about her ruined dress or how she looked. Righteous anger filled her. ‘Since when are you that sort of warrior? Since when have you become like a sea king? We agreed peace. Ironfist’s children never dishonour oaths.’
Regin hung his head. ‘I wanted to do something for you, Say… What was done to you was wrong and it is all my fault. I wish I’d never fallen in love with Blodvin, then everyone could have been happy.’
A huge great tide of misery rose in Sayrid’s breast. Some day her brother would go too far. ‘I know you did, but this was the wrong way to go about it. Just as it was wrong to bed Blodvin before you wedded her.’
‘I’ve no wish to start a blood feud, Avilson.’ Hrolf plucked the sword from Sayrid’s grip. He balanced it lightly on his hand before returning it to her brother, hilt first. ‘What is past remains in the past. You have a wife and child on the way. Enjoy them. But allow me the bride I won in peace and friendship.’
Her brother gulped twice. ‘You return my sword? Unbroken?’
‘I am in a good mood. Wedding days are a time of celebration. It is your sister’s wish that we be joined in matrimony. No one forced her. Respect her and do not seek to dishonour her again.’
Regin’s mouth took a bitter twist. ‘I was willing to die for you, Sayrid.’
‘Then be willing to live for me as well. You have a new wife and a baby on the way. Consider their future before you attempt to avenge imagined slights.’ Sayrid nodded towards some of her more loyal men. ‘Sober him up before he sees his wife.’
The men grabbed Regin’s arms and hustled him away.
Sayrid adjusted the cloak more firmly about her shoulders. ‘Shall we go, husband?’
