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The Norns of Fate must be on his side after all.
Or not, he soon found out.
Chapter Two
The best-laid plans of mice and clueless Viking men ...
Drifa was happier than she’d ever been in all her life. Until, that is, Sidroc’s well-laid plans caused her heart to nigh break.
It all started later that day with Drifa’s ill-timed eavesdropping. Or was that good-timed?
Sidroc was at the lower end of the great hall speaking to his comrade-in-arms Finn Vidarsson as they shared horns of mead. Finn was a strutting peacock of a man, vain to the bone, who had every Stoneheim kitchen, chamber, and serving maid aflutter.
She heard her name mentioned and decided Sidroc must be announcing her father’s consent to their marriage.
“So, you have accomplished your goal, my friend. Well done!”
Goal? What goal?
“And just in time,” Sidroc agreed.
In time for what?
“She is comely enough, though not up to my high standards,” Finn remarked.
As if I would have you!
“No woman is comely enough to match you,” Sidroc scoffed.
“Still, methinks bedding the princess will not be such a hardship for you, Sidroc.”
Sidroc chuckled. “It took nigh tupping to get her to agree.”
Oh nay! Please do not be discussing me so!
“And that would have been a problem?”
“Nay, but I needed to withhold that treat if I wanted her consent to wed.”
Treat? You rat! You bloody, stinking midden rat! “I want you above all others.” That is what you said to me. Liar!
“And now what?”
“I plan to swive her silly tonight. Then we will wed in ten days. After that, I will take her to my father’s estate and leave her there whilst there is still time to join the Jomsvikings. The funds in her dowry should satisfy my father.”
Over my dead unswived body!
“Dost think your father will indulge her zeal for plants?”
“I daresay he will let her do as she wills as long as it does not interfere with his drinking and whoring. She will have my baby to while away her time besides bloody roses and manure.”
He expects to plant his seed and have it take immediately. The arrogant ass! But, oh, his words cut to the quick. Apparently his interest in my occupation with growing things is as false as his supposed affection for me.
“By then, you would have rebuilt your fortunes and can build a home wherever you choose. Mayhap even the Orkney Islands where many Vikings have settled.”
“You make a good point, Finn. The Orkneys are out of my father’s range and yet only a day’s longship ride in good weather from the Norselands.”
He has no home of his own? He would move to another country without consulting me?
