Harper St. George - One Night With The Viking

‘What man did this to you?’

She risked another glance at the face she held so dear, only it wasn’t the kind face of the father she cherished. His cheeks were aflame with his fury, and his greying, golden hair was dishevelled, as if he’d raked through it with his hands countless times. Everyone said that he indulged her, that he favoured her too much, and perhaps they were right because she’d never seen him so angry.

‘Leif, calm yourself. Can’t you see that she’s afraid?’ Her mother’s soft voice broke the tension and she held out her hand to Kadlin, but Kadlin couldn’t make her feet move her forward to accept it.

The jarl cursed under his breath and raked a hand through his hair. When he looked up at Kadlin, the anger had receded a fraction, replaced with concern. ‘Were you forced?’

Kadlin shook her head and found her voice. ‘Nay, Father, I was not forced.’

‘So it’s true.’ He sighed as if he’d been hoping that the information he’d been given was wrong. ‘Seduced, then?’

Again she shook her head, nay.

The anger returned. ‘Give me his name.’

‘What will a name do? He’s gone, across the sea with everyone else.’

‘Oh, Kadlin.’ Her mother brought a hand up to cover her lips as she processed those words before continuing. ‘Why? If there is someone you favoured you could have come to us and we could have arranged a marriage before he left.’

Addressing her mother, she spoke evenly. ‘Because you would not have arranged a marriage for us so easily. And because I wasn’t even certain of him myself. I hadn’t seen him in years.’

The jarl shook his head. ‘I have brought countless men before you and you’ve eschewed them all. All of them! Even Eirik. And you ask me what will a name do? I want to know this paragon of masculinity who stole your good sense and virginity when not one of the men I brought before you even turned your head. A name, Kadlin.’

She drew herself up to her full height and took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if her father could kill him now, and besides, he was gone, never to return. She would never see him again, never touch him, never laugh with him. The ache in her throat threatened to choke off her words when she spoke. ‘It was Gunnar. Gunnar is the father of my child.’

Her parents sat in a stunned silence that was only broken when her mother broke down into sobs again. Her father was unnaturally still before he finally spoke. ‘You gave yourself to a bastard?’

‘He is acknowledged, Father. It’s not as if he’s without a family. Besides, he cannot be blamed for the manner in which he was conceived. I want to marry him.’ Nay, that wasn’t right. Not any more. When would she learn to think of him as part of her past? ‘I wanted to marry him. I don’t know why this comes as such a surprise. As a child, I spoke often of marrying him. But it’s been years since I’ve seen him and I needed to see him again to be sure.’

But her father shook his head. ‘Kadlin...he is not for you. Aye, his father has acknowledged him and raised him, but he has no future. No lands, no place in the world except to swing a blade and count his treasure.’

‘Aye, Father, that’s right. He has treasure from his excursions. He leads his own ship. He has the means to support me and a family. Why was he such a bad choice?’ Not that it mattered now with him long gone, but she couldn’t stop the unreasonable well of anger that rose within her. If her father had sanctioned her choice all along, perhaps this wouldn’t have happened. Perhaps they could have married years ago.

‘Why was he such a bad choice? Tell me this, Daughter. Where would you live with him? Does he have a home? A hall to keep you warm in the winter, a place to keep your children protected as they grow? He is not that type of man, Kadlin. He’s transient. He lives on only what his father’s good conscience has provided for him and when that ends he will pass his winters in hovels or whatever place he has managed to come by through pillaging, where he will live in constant fear of being killed. And one day he will be killed and what do you suppose would become of you? You would be passed to the next man in line, or perhaps taken as a triumph of his murderer, and you would live with him until he, too, is killed and so on and so forth until you, too, are gone. By then your children will have been scattered to the whims of life. Is this how you envision your future?’

Kadlin shook her head to deny the harsh future he described. ‘Nay, you are wrong.’

‘Am I? Then let us go back to the essential question. Has he offered you marriage?’

She swallowed past the ache in her throat and forced the word out. ‘Nay.’

‘He beds a woman like you, a prize that every bachelor wants, and doesn’t even have to speak of marriage to do it?’

‘Stop it, Father!’ She held her hand up to ward off his words. ‘None of this matters now. I loved him and he left me! Does that make you happy? There will be no marriage. I gave myself to him and he didn’t want me.’ Her voice broke on that last word and tears spilled down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her middle in some attempt to hold herself together, as the pain threatened to rip her apart. Her mother’s arms joined her own and she turned into the woman’s embrace, seeking some nameless solace from the pain of the gaping wound in her heart.

‘You’ll marry Baldr.’

‘No—’

Her father shook his head. ‘Don’t attempt to sway me, Kadlin. He’s offered and I see no other choice. Your child needs a father, a name.’

‘Please, Father.’ Pulling away from her mother, she ran and fell to her knees before him, bringing his hand to her cheek. ‘Please, not him. I don’t like him.’

He smiled wryly and brushed his fingers across her cheekbone, the anger momentarily gone from his eyes. ‘You don’t like any of them, Kadlin. But you must accept that your child needs a father. Do you want him to be a bastard like Gunnar? You’ve seen how difficult his life is. Do you want your son to have the same life? Always at a disadvantage because of the accident of his conception?’

She closed her eyes against the pain of his words, more tears escaping down her cheeks. ‘You know I don’t.’

‘Then marry Baldr. He has promised to care for you and the child.’

‘Nay, Father. He is a cruel man. He frightens me.’

The anger completely left him then to be replaced by something that was even worse. Pity. He cupped her face with both hands and placed a kiss on her forehead. ‘I would do anything to spare you from this pain. If he were here now, I would kill Gunnar myself for leaving you to face this alone. It only proves that I was right about him.’ Taking a deep breath, he ploughed ahead. ‘You will be married now. You have no choice.’

She trembled as a deep, wrenching sob struggled to find purchase in her throat. Her father’s words hinted at a truth she had tried so hard to deny. Gunnar must have known that a child was possible. He must have known that she loved him. He must have known how his leaving would destroy her. But she had to make a choice for her child now. ‘I’ll marry Dagan, but not Baldr.’ Dagan was a childhood friend she had known almost as long as Gunnar. He was kind and good, a fine warrior who planned to leave for the Saxon lands before winter. Though the thought of marrying anyone except Gunnar tore out her heart, if she would marry anyone else it would be Dagan. He would understand that she needed time before...before she could truly be a wife to him. The very thought of it caused another tear to leak down her cheek.

‘Dagan?’ Her father looked pensive and then nodded. ‘He’s from a strong family. He will agree to this?’