Page 55 of Lord of Fire and Ice

He was sure no one was ignorant that he’d shared the mistress’s chamber on more than one occasion. He’d stumbled over several whispered conversations that ended abruptly when the gossipers realized he was near.

“I have given the matter much thought, and I thank each of my three suitors for the honor of their favor. Or rather, I thank two of them. Brandr Ulfson has had no choice in this, so his favor is in question.”

Finn winced, so Brandr knew she’d shot him a withering glare.

“Albrikt Gormson,” she said with a ringing tone, and something inside Brandr shriveled. “You are a fine man, and any woman would count herself fortunate to be your bride, but regretfully, I must decline your offer.”

Gormson rose to his feet with a horrible scowl at Finn. “I thought you had your sister in hand.”

Then he shifted his glare to Katla, and Brandr’s fingers balled into fists without his conscious volition.

“You will rue this insult, Katla the Black,” he promised and strode from the hall without a backward glance.

Brandr hadn’t thought Gormson’s heart was engaged in the match, but his reaction to her refusal made him reconsider. From the hard set of Albrikt’s shoulders, Brandr knew Katla had made a grave enemy.

Katla turned to look at Otto Sturlson. Gut sinking, Brandr realized one of the advantages for Katla in this match. The woman craved her independence. If she married Otto, she’d probably be a widow again in a handful of years.

“Otto Sturlson,” she said. “You, too, are a fine man, and your stories and good humor would be welcome in my hall each night. But I cannot marry you.”

Otto shrugged and smiled. “I’m not surprised, girl. Given the difference in our ages, our marriage would have been a short one. But maybe all the more pleasant for its brevity!”

Laughter greeted this pronouncement.

“Mayhap I’ll stay with your household, in any case,” Otto said. “If you’ve room for a sometime skald.”

Katla nodded. “You will be a most welcome addition to my home.”

Brandr forgot to draw breath. Did that mean she’d chosen him? A thrall, an outcast?

“Sister,” Finn rose and whispered furiously into her ear. “What are you doing?”

“I’m announcing my choice.”

“Don’t do this. You can’t marry a thrall.”

“Then why did you name him as one of my suitors? Do you wish to change your mind and end this charade?”

A hard lump formed in Brandr’s chest. She wasn’t claiming him as her choice. She was playing a game of strategy with her brother. Brandr was merely a pawn to be sacrificed so she could win.

Finn met Brandr’s gaze for a moment then looked back at Katla. Resolve stiffened his jaw.

“No, Katla,” Finn said. “The son of Ulf offered a fair marriage settlement for you.”

“He what?”

“You didn’t think I’d name him if he could not, did you? Einar and Haukon and I will see a decent settlement from this union. But you’ll be wed to a thrall.” Finn folded his arms calmly across his chest. “If you wish to join yourself to an iron collar, we won’t stop you.”

A red flush crept up Katla’s neck and stained her cheeks. Her bluff had been well and truly called. The entire company leaned forward to get a better view. This little drama was better than a skald’s tale.

“Of course I won’t wed a thrall.”

“It’s too late to call Gormson back. He was so angry, he wouldn’t have you now if you went on your knees,” Finn said. “Then I guess it’s to be Otto Sturlson.”

“No, it won’t be.”

“Katla, we had an agreement. You must wed.”

“But I won’t wed a thrall,” Katla said. “I’ll free Brandr Ulfson as a wedding gift. In fact, I’ll free him this very moment. Call for the smith to strike off the collar.”