The Northman's Last Kiss *RetitledOriginally titled 'The Northman's Bride'

Chapter 7-Part 2

But for tonight, Aleksi chose not to grieve. He wasn't dead yet and neither was his passionate little companion.

His little-she didn't like to be referred to as little. He smiled at the thought. There was nothing little about the spirit in her.

His lark...for she was truly his, the truth of owning her affection raised a sense of pride in him, which was closely followed with guilt-guilt that the comfort and companionship she brought him came at the expense of her young life. She curled under his arm and waved a solemn farewell to the retreating ships.

"I traveled to the holy lands many years ago." He turned to her and smiled as honestly as he could. "We paid a small fortune to a Hebrew holy man to guide us over the mountains. Several of our men had died in the king's crusade, some we later lost to fevers, those that remained, our spirits were low. The holy man quoted from the holy writing, Deuteronomy I think it was and it said that God puts before us the blessing and the benediction and that we must choose life if we were to move forward and see another day."

Her eyes sparkled with courage and a thirst for life.

"Tonight, let us choose to live." He spoke low and steadily, "until we fall asleep in death, let us live with no regret. Let others mourn for us when we are gone. This night I wish to sing and dance and wed you by the light of the moon and make love to you under the stars. What do you say, Priella?"

"I say you are delirious with fever." She passed him up a cup of her sour lemon water and he drank deeply. The sun sank low over the distance Farbiter mountains, sending rich purple hues into the sky.

"Oooyh!" his father shouted from the small approaching skiff. "Aleksi, are you there, son?"

"Aye, far!" He raised his hand and smiled. His father needed the smile the false air of joy would have to do for now. He dragged Mimi closer to the rail and tucked her in close to his side so that his father may get a good look at her. Aleksi had never presented a woman to his father before, for his approval or inspection, but this little lark under his arm make him push his chest out with pride. She had become his woman by default. Nevertheless, no man would argue that she was not a prize fit for a king.

"How is the lady faring, lad?" his father asked, standing in the boat that held the priest and had been rowed out by Jarl Magnus himself. A second boat behind held six men who towed behind them an unmanned vessel stacked with barrels, furs and supplies that could outfit a dozen men.

"She grows warmer with fever by the hour, but still has a good arm on her to swat at me when I say something that displeases her," he shouted and was promptly swatted by his lark.

"We bring drafts by the healer to relieve the fever pains. Grain wine and the Jarl sends his best wine from Aquitaine. Plenty of the smoked fish you like, son."

"Gratitude, Far and to you as well, Jarl Magnus. Will make a fine feast for our wedding."

The Jarl and his father looked to one another and then back up at Aleksi.

"Aye, Mimi has agreed to wed me, father," Aleksi said to the priest. "Would you do the honors of blessing our union and saying the words before God?"