The era of greatness that the prophesy had foretold had dawned.
But Leif had not yet come. Despite Leif killing Calder, his best friend since childhood, and taking Eivind’s head, Vali saw his reluctance, if that was what it was, to come north as further evidence that he was no true friend. When Brenna suggested that Leif had a new jarldom and a new peace to make strong, and that in any case, the emerging winter was no time to travel when one would have a return trip as well, he remained unmoved. He kept stubborn hold of his anger and distrust, and Brenna knew that the ice between them would not be moved unless the two men could again be face to face.
Now, though, in the next summer, Brenna had more pressing concerns.
As another tightening racked her body and Dagmar helped her to sit up while she bore down, Brenna hoped that the prophesy about their daughter was true as she understood it.
The pain was like nothing she’d ever felt. She’d done this before, but had no memory at all of giving birth to her tiny son. This was worse than anything, worse even than the hot rods. More than that, it was work, more work that she had strength for, after months and months of bringing her food up.
She was much better at the work of the warrior than she was at the work of the woman. That had always been true. It made her worry about how she would mother her child.
Her strength gave out before the pain did, and she screamed.
“Gods! Help her!” Vali yelled.
Dagmar set Brenna back on the bed and stalked over to her husband. “Get OUT, Vali! You do her no good!” She shoved at his chest.
In this moment of respite, Brenna lay and watched them, trying to find her strength.
She saw Vali put his hands up as if he meant to shove her mother back, but then he stopped. “I will not leave them! I will not!”
Between Brenna’s legs, Olga said, “He is incorrigible, Dagmar. We can put him to use. Vali, take over for Dagmar. Dagmar, I need you here.” Brenna’s mother moved to the end of the bed, and her friend smiled up at her. “I know this has been long and hard, Brenna. Your daughter is a greedy girl, and she took all you gave her. She is big and strong, and you will need to be strong to push her forth. Remember what your seer told you.”
As another wave of pain crashed over her, Vali crouched at the side of their bed. He helped her to sit up. “Brenna, look at me. See me.”
She locked her eyes with his, those brilliant blue lights. Finding her shieldmaiden, she bore down, grunting with effort and agony, and he smiled.
“You bring forth a great warrior today. Like her mother. And her mother before her.”
Brenna nodded and bore down.
~oOo~
“Her name is Solveig,” Brenna said on a yawn.
Lying at her side, their daughter sleeping between them, Vali said, “That is a fine name. ‘The way of the sun.’ Yes. She is our sun and our way, I think.” He brushed his fingers over the soft, pale down that was her hair. “She is the most perfect thing I have seen ever in my life.”
They were alone in their quarters, all the fuss and mess having been cleared away. It was just them, their little family, snuggled together in their own bed.
Brenna kissed the back of her daughter’s head, then stayed there to breathe in the magical scent of her. It tugged at her heart in some way. That scent made her breasts tingle and her womb ache. It was as if love itself had a scent. She no longer worried about what kind of mother she would be. From the moment her daughter had been placed in her arms, she knew that she would do everything in all the worlds to raise her strong and content.
On the back of her right shoulder, Solveig had a birthmark. Just a tiny, dark red mark, no bigger than the tip of Brenna’s first finger.
It seemed to have the shape of a rayed sun.
“She has your eyes.” Feeling tired and happy and unbearably cozy, Brenna snuggled closer to her babe, under the furs. Her body was beset by myriad pains, and her bottom felt enormous, but she had never been more comfortable in her life.
“She has her own eyes,” Vali answered, leaning over to kiss Brenna’s temple. “She is magnificent. Like her mother.” He kissed her again, and she sighed. “Sleep, my love. I will be here when you and Solveig awaken.”
“You are mine,” she mumbled, feeling sleep ease over her shoulders.
“Ever will I be,” her husband whispered at her ear.
Susan Fanetti is a Midwestern native transplanted to Northern California, where she lives with her husband, youngest son, and cats.
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God's Eye (The Northwomen Sagas #1) Page 31