“Talking of which, I am pleased to tell you that Eadhild and Halfdan have finally decided on a date for the wedding,” Gytha announced, smiling for the first time since they had sat down to eat. She had received the news that morning and had meant to tell her father. “They expect us next Friday.”
The week passedin a blur and on the Thursday evening, Gytha was back at the Norsemen village, to help prepare her friend for her wedding. Her father would join her in the morning.
“Can you believe it?” Eadhild said, throwing herself into her arms. “This time tomorrow I’ll be married. I’m so happy! Thank you so much for coming.”
“No need to thank me. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
“We’ll get everything ready tonight, and tomorrow the ceremony will take place at the big boulder by the river. I hope it doesn’t rain but, honestly, I care not if it does.” Eadhild threw an adoring glance at her future groom, who lifted her hand to his lips to kiss it.
“Neither do I. I’m sure I won’t notice anyway, with you by my side.”
This answer was rewarded by a delighted giggle.
“Halfdan will leave us women the house for the night. He’s going to sleep in the room at the back of the forge, where he lived when he first arrived in the village,” Eadhild explained. “We are waiting for his friends to come collect him.”
“And here they are,” Halfdan said nodding to the group of boisterous men heading their way.
“Look,” Eadhild whispered in her ear as they approached. “The three to the side are Wolf’s sons, Steinar, Torsten and Sven. Next to them is Halfdan’s best friend, Eirik, who was the one to suggest he come live in the village, then Arne, a neighbor, Knut and Thorfinn the blacksmith’s two sons and Haakon, which you will have recognized as your supposed betrothed.”
Yes. This one she had definitely recognized. He stood out in the group as if he were taller, blonder, stronger, fiercer than the rest of them put together, even if she could see some of the men were more muscular, others more imposing or even more confident. But none drew her eye like Haakon did.
He slowed down when he saw her and sent her what she could only describe as a scorching look. Just like that, the weeks since their last meeting fell away. She had the impression he had always been part of her life, and always would be.
“Are you ready, then, you dog?” the man in the middle of the group—Arne—said, giving Halfdan a slap on the shoulder. “No last kiss to your lovely bride? No last quick tumble?”
“Fuck off, Arne,” the tallest man in the group—Eirik—growled, grabbing him by the collar as he would a young pup he wanted to chastise.
“Ignore the man,” the one to the far left—Steinar—told Eadhild, who had gone bright red at the suggestion of a last tumble. “He’s always been a fool.”
Haakon kept silent but it seemed to Gytha that he was gritting his teeth.
Heedless of the people watching, Halfdan drew Eadhild into his arms and gave her a heartfelt kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my love.”
“See you tomorrow. I can’t wait.”
Gytha felt something inside her tighten. This was the kind of marriage she would never have if she agreed to marry Oswald. The kind of marriage her parents had had. The kind of marriage any woman would want.
Her gaze landed on Haakon again, her supposed betrothed, and she swallowed. How would it feel to be betrothed to him for real? Would she even want to marry him? True he fascinated her, but a lot of the time, he made her uncomfortable, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle such an intense man. She often felt out of her depth in his presence, which explained the need to present herself as more brazen than she really was. She didn’t want him to suspect she felt inadequate and dull, because then he might lose what little interest she may have stirred in him.
Haakon followed the group of men back to the smithy in a pensive mood.
Gytha had been outside Halfdan’s hut, as if to torment him. She really had a knack for appearing where he last expected her. But perhaps he should have guessed she would be among the women helping Eadhild to get ready tonight. She was her best friend, by all accounts.
“The woman next to Eadhild just now, wasn’t that the one you’re supposed to be betrothed to?” Torsten asked, his mouth stretching into a wide smile.
Damnation, of course, Wolf would have delighted in telling his family what that fool Alberic had told the reeve.
“Depends who you ask. As it happens, her neighbor is convinced she is engaged to you, or one of your brothers.”
Torsten let out a sunny laugh. “Please don’t let Cwenthryth, Eahlswith, or least of all, Aife, hear that. I’m not sure they would see the humor in it. Much betteryouremain the supposed betrothed, my friend.”
“Mm.”
“Oh, wait,” Sven said, skidding to a halt. He extracted a necklace out of the purse at his belt. “Eahlswith asked me to give this to Eadhild for tomorrow. Then Arne’s stupid questions distracted me. I should?—”
“Give it to me,” Haakon surprised himself by saying. “I wanted to go get something from home before joining you at the forge. I’ll drop it at the hut on my way.”
“Thanks.” Sven handed him the delicate chain with a teardrop-shaped pendant.
