by Lisa Shea
I grinned, shaking my head. “What has gotten into you, Robert? Did you fall off your horse and not tell anyone?” I peered into his tawny eyes, examining the dark pupils. “You don’t seem to have any sign of a head injury …”
His fingers clenched; he examined Ramsey as if he hadn’t lived with him every day of his life. “He looks … he looks like my father’s father.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course he does. Your grandfather had two wives. One bore Ramsey’s father - your uncle Charles. The other wife birthed your father. So you and Ramsey share the same grandfather.” I chuckled. “That’s what makes you cousins, you know.”
His jaw was tight. “Two wives?”
I sighed. “Yes. Your grandmother was the first wife, while Ramsey’s grandmother was the frilla.” I looked more closely at him. “Have those missionaries been getting to you? I swear, maybe my stepmother is right.”
He swiveled his attention toward me. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged, pulling loose of his ever-tightening grasp. “Just that the missionaries keep preaching that women are supposed to be subservient to men. That they can’t inherit or own land. They can’t have a say in clan decisions.” I snorted. “And now this bastard talk. As if a man’s son isn’t his son. Who would believe such ridiculous nonsense?”
His eyes were locked on mine. “And the two wives? Wouldn’t your stepmother feel just as upset about that?”
I shrugged. “Men are always dying from injury or attack. What are the extra women supposed to do? Starve to death? Try to maintain a household on their own?” I shook my head. “Ramsey’s grandmother was a young widow, and she was helping your grandmother with her health issues. It made sense for her to be in the household and not off on her own. And when the widow got pregnant with Charles, all the better that they all raise the child together. Then your grandmother finally got pregnant with your father, and there it was. A family.”
Robert paled. “So my father is the younger of the two half-brothers?”
I snorted. “Why do you think Ramsey stands to inherit everything? He’s the eldest son of the eldest son.”
A thought crossed my mind, and I stepped forward, my voice lowering in concern. “Robert, my stepmother hasn’t been getting to you, has she? Trying to convince you to give me up so I can marry Ramsey instead?”
His breath blew out of him in shock. “Odin’s teeth, never! I would never let that worm marry you!”
I smiled, my shoulders relaxing. “Good. Because I don’t care about Ramsey’s land or wealth. All I care about is that you and I love each other. That we will be happy together.”
He looked as if he was having trouble breathing.
Hoofbeat sounded, and he spun in surprise. Ramsey’s father was galloping away down the slope, toward the crossroads at the far outskirts of town.
Robert ran up to Ramsey. “Where is Uncle Charles going?”
Ramsey spit into the cold ground. “Not that it’s any business of yours, Robbie, but he and your father are going to have a talk with the missionaries. Something about the new chapel they wish to build.” Ramsey’s teeth flashed in the dim light. “My father said he’s going to put an end to this talk of bastard sons for once and for all.”
Robert blinked, and then he was flying into the stables, throwing a saddle blanket over one of the horses.
Ramsey strode in, his eyes flashing. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Down to my father,” snapped Robert.
In a moment Ramsey was preparing one of the other horses.
I looked between them in disbelief. There’d always been tension in the family - a strong dose of sibling rivalry. But this went beyond anything I’d seen before.
When Robert was done he turned to me. “You’re coming with me.”
He had that look in his eyes. The set look that said his mind was made up. I knew it was fruitless to argue, and besides, I had no intention on missing out on whatever was going on here. I climbed on and slid forward to leave space for him. He mounted behind me in a heartbeat and then with a flick of his hand we were in motion, streaming down the hill.
His voice rang in the crisp air. “The crossroads - they’re straight down this road?”
I had given up making sense of him this morning. “Yes,” I shouted back. “Straight through the village and out the other side.”
He urged the horse on faster, and a snowy shower kicked up all around us. Soon the trees and fields gave way to a denser collection of log-walled homes, but he did not slow. He raced past the center green as if all the hounds of Odin were chasing us. In the far distance behind us I thought I heard Ramsey in pursuit. I chuckled. The day Ramsey could keep up with Robert was the day that Ragnarök began.
Another breath and the village was behind us, curious heads poking out of doorways to see what was going on. But we were in a flat-out gallop now, racing along the hilly stretch which led to the valley with the crossroads. This was the plot of ground the missionaries had chosen for their new church.
On the horizon I could make out small figures. A pair of men in long, black robes. Those would be the missionaries. Across from them were Robert’s father and uncle, dressed in their thick cloaks and leggings. The uncle’s two men-at-arms were by the horses. He must have met them somewhere along the trail.
My brow creased. Why would the soldiers be present for a simple conversation about land?
As I watched, Robert’s uncle stepped behind his father.
His sword came out of his sheath.
There was a ringing noise as Robert drew his own sword and raised it high. His voice echoed clear across to the distant sea. “Father! Behind you!”
His father spun and instantly dodged back with the reflexes of a dire wolf. The killing blow traced a line across his right arm, drawing blood, but it did not slow the man down one moment. In a heartbeat his own sword was out and the two men were locked in furious combat.
It was as if a signal had been given. The two men-at-arms drew their own swords and stalked menacingly toward the missionaries.
Robert thundered his horse down the hill, and the men-at-arms turned in surprise. They raced toward the new threat. Robert reined in well clear of them and leapt free of the steed. “Get to safety,” he shouted to me. Then he spun his sword in his grasp to loosen his wrist and charged.
I grabbed up the reins and spun the horse toward the missionaries. They were huddled together in fright, their eyes wide.
I called down to them, “stay behind me!” I rotated the steed so his razor-sharp hooves faced the fighting. I knew Robert was striving to keep the missionaries safe and the more he could be reassured that they stood behind a wall of well-trained horse strength, the more he could focus on his own challenge.
Erik’s blue eyes flashed with rage as he swung up and over at Robert’s head. “How dare you interfere with the head of your family! The missionaries must die!”
Robert parried the blow to the right, driving in hard with his fist. “And stabbing my father in the back?”
Erik’s head rocked back with the strike. He spit blood. “Oscar sucked at the teat of their foul message. He didn’t flinch when they labeled Charles a bastard,” he snarled. “As if first born is not enough!”
Erik drove in hard, his sword slicing toward Robert’s throat.
Robert swung across and down, plowing Erik’s sword into the snow. The sword stuck there, and Robert spun, driving his hilt into the corner of Erik’s temple.
Erik dropped like a stone.
My voice burst out, high and frantic. “Behind you!”
Robert spun just in time, catching Rolf’s blow a finger’s width away from his forehead.
Rolf’s voice shot out in fury. “Your being here is even better. We make it seem like both you and your father got into a fight with the missionaries. Killed each other off. And your entire line dies with you.”
Robert’s voice was pure fury. “I’ll see you in Valhalla first.”
There was noise from above, and I turned.
Ramsey thundered into view at the top of the hill, his face florid with anger. “Father!”
I looked over, following his gaze.
The two half-brothers were trading a flurry of blows, but Ramsey’s father was falling back with each step. His sword barely moved in time to block each new attack. His breath came in desperate heaves.
Ramsey’s voice took on the sharpness of panic. “Father! I’m coming!”
He barreled down the slope.
I spurred my horse into action.
I heard Robert’s hoarse cry of “No!” and my hands clenched on the reins. I might not have a sword at my hip, but I had far better than that. I had two thousand pounds of experienced warhorse beneath my body, and he had been trained in exactly what to do.
We reached the gap, spun hard, and my horse’s flailing hooves lashed out into Ramsey’s face. Ramsey’s horse reared in panic and Ramsey was thrown into a mound of deep snow. He screamed out in frustration.
A movement, and Robert was by my horse’s head, his lungs heaving with the effort. I glanced back to see that both of the men-at-arms now lay sprawled on the icy ground.
Robert looked up at me. “Are you all right?”
I nodded reassuringly down at him. “I’m fine. Your father?”
We turned our heads.
As we watched, Robert’s father swung his sword broad-side at his half-brother, laying the older man out face-first into the snow. Oscar instantly brought the tip of his sword to press into the back of the prone man’s neck. “Stay down, Charles,” he warned, “or, brother or no, I swear I will kill you where you lay.”
Ramsey’s voice was a plaintive plea. “No! Don’t hurt him!”
Robert strode over to grab a hold of Ramsey’s collar. Robert pressed his sword against Ramsey’s back and walked him over to kneel next to his father.
Charles spit a wad of blood. “You’ll never convince anyone of what happened here. It will be your word against ours.”
Oscar’s voice was even. “The missionaries saw it all.”
Charles laughed. “And what weight will their word hold in the clan? When all know how much you wanted to build their new chapel for them?”
There was a movement from the edge of the woods.
A pair of women came out, huddled together. They were carrying woven baskets for gathering acorns and pinecones. They looked to Oscar with clear eyes. “We saw it all,” said Anna. “We will speak the truth of what happened.”
Robert’s gaze glowed. “Thank you.”
Charles spat again. He stared at Oscar in seething hatred. “You will celebrate to have us slain,” he challenged. “You’ve wanted it from the moment you were born.”
Oscar slowly shook his head. “It was you who saw me as a threat. I idolized you with the eyes of a younger brother.” He drew in a breath. “I will not ask for your deaths, although it would be my right. I will only have you both exiled.”
Ramsey clenched his fists. “Exile us? How dare you think -”
Charles snapped a sharp glance at his son, and Ramsey went silent.
Oscar nudged his head toward the two men-at-arms who were now groggily pushing themselves to sitting. “Your men may go with you. They were only following your orders.”
Charles blinked. It seemed he had forgotten all about them and cared little for their fate.
Oscar looked to the missionaries. “You two. Bring rope that we may bind their hands and bring them in for public court.”
The missionaries rummaged through their supplies and brought over the lengths of rope. One of them bowed deeply to Oscar. “It is the light of the Holy Father which shines on you. Which kept you safe in this bloody betrayal.”
Oscar clamped a hand warmly on his son’s shoulder. “It is my son here who protected me. Who shouted the warning. Who bravely rode to the fray even though we were outnumbered.”
Robert turned to me and took my hand. “It was my bride-to-be who evened the odds. Who held Ramsey off from attacking you from behind, as his father had.”
Oscar turned to me, his eyes shining. “Bride to be? Has the clan thus ruled?”
Robert’s gaze locked on mine. “The runes of our names have been intertwined since time began. There are none who could deny that.”
Oscar’s smile grew, and he nodded. “After today, there is no doubt that you two were meant for each other. I will be honored to have her join us in the great house.”
The enormity of it swept over me. Robert now was the sole heir of all of the family’s holdings. And there was nothing to stop us being together.
All my greatest dreams …
I looked up at him, he drew me into a deep hug, and the world fell away. It swirled … rearranged …
*
The golden sun streamed down on the shimmering tan walls of the ziggurat, and I spread my arms wide with joy. The gods were truly shining on us today. The harvest had been the best we had seen in many years. Already the storehouses were full to bursting with rye, barley, lentils, and other stock. The two rivers were running fast with gattan and hemri – the fishermen came back daily with large catches.
Our bounty was endless.
I smiled. Our thriving state was a testament to how hard each member of our community had worked. We had each done our part to please the gods and follow their instructions to the letter. No morning had passed without the proper salutations. No evening had waned without the lighting of candles and offering of thanks.
There was a noise beside me, and Robert came up alongside me. His dark hair was askew and his long, leaf green skirt was splattered with mud.
I laughed in delight. “You will be sent home, if you try to enter the temple looking like that! It would be one thing if you were a pig-farmer and that was your best outfit available. But you are a King’s son, and you are courting the daughter of the temple priestess.” I blushed. “You have to make some attempt to show respect for the gods!”
He blinked in surprise. “The King’s son?”
I playfully nudged him in the shoulder. “Oh, so you think you are above the orders of the Temple Priestess? While you may have sway over all things worldly, it is my mother who speaks on behalf of the gods.” My eyes twinkled, and I looked again at the rich stains which peppered his front. “And my mother will certainly have something to say about that!”
His brow creased in confusion. “Don’t you mean your stepmother?”
I ran a hand through my hair, settling my golden diadem more firmly in place. “What are you playing at, Robert? Our families have known each other since before you and I were born. You know she is my real mother.”
His hands folded over mine, and his gaze shone in determination. “Take me to her.”
I was intrigued now. I skipped along the path, then took the stone stairs up two at a time. The joy of the autumn afternoon still sung in me, and whatever strange quest Robert was on now, I didn’t mind. For everything was as it should be. The planets were aligned perfectly. Mary had said so, and she was one of my mother’s best astronomers. Even at her young age she saw much more than women far older.
We reached the large foyer and I turned left, delving into the narrow hallways. I knew all the back paths and they served me well in avoiding the throngs who often came to offer thanks or plead for assistance. My mother’s inner sanctuary was just ahead. Around this corner, and up these -
I slammed to a halt, and Robert practically ran into me before catching himself. His mouth opened and I held up a hand, silencing him.
We could both hear it now.
From within the room came a sharp voice. I could recognize it as that of Charles - Robert’s uncle. “That’s a lie!”
My mother’s voice came, then, implacable, calm. “It is a documented truth, Charles. For the past five years you have insisted that our lands would be beset by horrific flooding. That the only solution was to engage in violent warfare on our neighbors in order to expand our farmland. Your b
rother, King Oscar, blindly followed your guidance. It is only through the grace of the gods that we did not lose more valiant warriors to those fruitless attacks. And as all can see, our harvests have been the best ever known. Your predictions were all false.”
His tone dropped into a growl. “That is because you refuse to leave your husband and come to my side. It is your stubbornness which has tainted my visions.”
Her laugh was light and tinkling. “Are you conniving with Sarah again? Scheming for her to get her hands on my husband while you steal me away for yourself?”
“Sarah has nothing to do with this! You know you were meant for me!”
Her voice edged. “I’ve heard rumors that , should your suit for me fail, you will strive to force the hand of my innocent daughter. Be sure that I will never let that happen. Not in five thousand years. And neither will I allow a match with that jackal of a son of yours.”
Charles’s voice rose high. “My son is not a jackal!”
My mother scoffed. “It would be hard for him to be anything else. You forced yourself on the poor girl and then made her life a living hell. It’s no wonder she ran off the moment she had a chance. The son could only suffer, growing up in that twisted environment.”
A scraping anger entered Charles’s tone, one which made me tremble in fear. “I’m warning you …”
I backed up into Robert and his arm instinctively came up around me to hold me.
My mother’s voice was firm and final. “Warning me what? Will you cause the Tigris to flood? The Euphrates to run dry? Plagues of locusts?” Her tone grew sharp. “I have had enough of your idle threats. I will go to your brother and reveal all you have done over the years. Every last detail. It is time to put an end to your evil ways for once and for all.”
Charles’s words echoed down the hall, filling me, resonating from the very temple’s walls.
“I curse you, High Priestess. I curse your daughter. For five thousand years she will always have true love slip through her fingers. And you will be powerless to help in any way. She will suffer, and suffer, and you will know the pain I have carried with me.” His tone grew sinister. “Oh, yes, you will know it in full measure.”