Blood & Fire

Chapter Twenty- Three | The New Jarl (Part 2)

Rorik watched as the flames devoured the slender vessel that held his father's lifeless body. The tide gently carried him farther and farther away with each passing moment. He stood solemnly, taking comfort in the fact that he would see him again in the halls of Valhalla. He would die a warriors death like his father did, earning him a place among the gods.

When the vessel finally disappeared into the horizon, Ida turned to face the crowd in attendance. Her chin was lifted high, her face hardened and proud, but her eyes betrayed her. They were red- streaked. The skin underneath them glistened with the residue of tears. She made her way through the crowd, which parted instinctively for her.

Rorik felt a slender hand slip into his. In the peripheral of his eyes he did not see the wisps of fiery red curls that he expected. Instead he caught a slight glimpse of brown tresses. He looked down at their intertwined hands and then at Astrid, who smiled meekly up at him. Without hesitation, he wrenched his hand free from hers. She folded her hands together in front of her torso and stared straight ahead, maintaining an appearance of someone who had not just been rejected by her betrothed. A single tear ran down the side of her face.

The crowd huddled into a circle, with Ida in the middle. She surveyed the crowd and met the eyes of her sons one by one. Then she beckoned them with a sweep of her arm to join her in the middle. They wordlessly obeyed.

"Asmund was a ferocious warrior who sacrificed himself for the protection of his people. Freya blessed me and I bore him three sons. One of my sons will take on the mantle of responsibility and become your new jarl. Brant is first born, making him the rightful heir."

She motioned towards him, signaling for him to take over. Brant stepped forward. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for one person in particular. When he found his betrothed he winked at her mischievously. She offered him a sweet smile in return.

"Our enemy Eadric the former jarl of Oppland has been slain by my brother's hand. He has no sons as heirs to take his place. I will forge a new lasting alliance with Westfold by taking his widow as my own wife. Oppland is now under my authority. This will double our lands, and strengthen us against those who would dare to raise a sword against us. I give up my rightful claim to Westfold, and with my blessing one of my brothers will take my place."

The crowd gasped in a mixture of astonishment and excitement. Brant left his brother and mother and rejoined Gyda in the crowd. His arm wrapped around her waist and he protectively clutched her small mound just beginning to protrude. She tilted her head back and placed a chaste kiss on the underside of his jaw. The two were inseparable and nothing but blissful since being reunited. The crowd grew painfully quiet as the tension settled over them. No one could anticipate what would happen next.

Astrid stood forward, breaking free from the crowd. Her eyes latched onto Rorik's intently, then broke abruptly as she turned to face the mass of people encircling her. The tear she had previously shed had soaked into her skin, leaving behind no trace. She felt a surge of desperation to be seen by Rorik- she wanted nothing more than for him to desire her. She would earn his love if it was the last thing she did. She saw Rorik as a challenge- one she had never encountered before. Men always flocked to her- desiring what lied beneath her skirts. Never in her life had she tasted the bitterness of rejection. It wounded her pride and this would not do. She was a princess. She could have any man she wanted and she wanted Rorik.

"My father has pledged my hand to Rorik son of Asmund in exchange for an alliance between our two kingdoms. Our union will only strengthen us against our enemies ushering in a new era. It was Rorik who set his sights upon the new land, taking a daring risk and reaping riches in Scotland. News of his adventure has already been sung from shore to shore. He has become a legend all throughout the realm. It is he who reforged a broken alliance between Alfheim and slayed our shared enemy- Jarl Eadric. He has proven himself as a warrior and a wise leader. It is he who should be your new Jarl."

She peered over her shoulder, then retreated stiffly into the throng of warriors, their wives, and children. No one in the crowd protested. After a lengthy moment of silence, Vidar stepped forward, then turned towards his younger brother. In an unexpected move he dipped down to his knee.

Freeing his sword from his belt, he said, "I pledge my life and sword to you, Lord."

Rorik bent down and grabbed his brother's hand, lifting him up from the dirt. He patted him on the back, then gave him a firm embrace.

"I do not want blood shed between us brother. I have no taste for power. I long for freedom from responsibility, always have," Vidar whispered into his brother's ear. "Besides, they're all itching to see us fight to the death, and I love to be a disappointment," He added. One by one every man and boy as old as twelve followed suite by bending their knee and pledging their swords to the new Jarl of Westfold.

No one noticed the redheaded scot slipping behind the longhouse, walking stealthily towards the thick haven of trees- none except Astrid. When Meryna noticed she had been spotted she froze. Astrid spread her lips in a smile that did not reach her eyes.

He's mine, she mouthed. Meryna nodded her head. You can have him, she mouthed back. Go. Meryna obeyed, and disappeared into the woods without a second glance backward.