would have his proper father.
Her breath stopped. Accepting this man’s claim of being Ash went beyond simply taking his word for it and her knowing it in her heart. Twelve members of Raumerike’s Storting would have to declare for him and stake their honour on it. The penalty for attempting to deceive the Storting was either death or permanent banishment.
Kara clenched her fists and concentrated. In acknowledging this man to be Ash, she’d lose Valdar, the man who would be the perfect guardian for Rurik. He was going to be her saviour. But it wouldn’t be right. Not now. She had to speak up. She had to bring the dead back to life.
‘Ash Hringson,’ she proclaimed, crossing her arms. ‘Where have you been? We thought you dead. Killed in a shipwreck off the Frankish coast over six years ago. A fine time you pick to appear.’
‘Reports of my death were incorrect but, alas, the shipwreck was all too real. I would say my timing is impeccable.’ Ash’s ice-blue gaze raked her form, travelling from the top of her bridal crown to the soles of her slippers, as if he were mentally undressing her, stripping her of her bridal finery and leaving her naked in front of the crowd. ‘I survived a fiery inferno on the sea and a Frankish prison. I have come to pay my debts. I have returned.’
‘Have you indeed?’
‘You look as lovely as my memory of you, Kara.’ His lips curved upwards. ‘I remember the garland of flowers you wore in your hair the first morning of our marriage while we took our vows again. The sunlight turned your head to pure gold and your skin to cream. Far more suited to you than your mother’s bridal crown. I didn’t like it on our wedding day and I like it even less now. It does nothing for your hair or your eyes.’
His rich voice flowed over her. Why did he have to remember the garland she’d fashioned and how she’d insisted they recite their vows again? But then Ash had always been good at remembering the little details which had no real meaning. It was part of his deadly charm.
She forced her mind away from any softening. Seven years! It had taken him seven years to return. Why so long if he thought her lovely?
‘Can you be sure this man is Ash Hringson, Kara? Others might sport a snake birthmark.’ Valdar put a heavy hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you willing to risk your reputation by vouching for him in front of everyone?’
Kara thought about her young son and the nightly prayers that he made to the gods for a father. The man who had given her Rurik deserved her loyalty. Silently she bid goodbye to an easy and settled life with Valdar. The safe future she’d envisioned only this morning was an impossibility and that hurt. But she knew in her gut that her instinct was right. She owed it to the gullible girl that she had once been to fight for Ash. She shrugged off Valdar’s restraining hand.
‘I am certain, Valdar. This man is Ash Hringson. He can be no other. Reports of his death must have been false.’
Her words echoed around the chamber and she waited for others to agree with her. Ash’s uncle rose to his feet.
‘Can a woman vouch for a man’s identity?’ he declared, banging his stick on the ground. ‘The traditions of Raumerike allow for men to vouch for an identity, but a woman? It is unprecedented. Women and thralls are easily led and their judgement suspect. Raumerike law and tradition allows for twelve men, not a single woman, to vouch for a man’s identity. I have not heard a single man speak in favour of this...this Viken!’
A low murmur travelled swiftly around the hall. Kara froze. Why had Harald Haraldson cast doubt on Ash’s identity? Did he want his nephew dead?
‘We are talking about my husband’s life! Your beloved nephew!’ Kara retorted before Harald Haraldson could garner any support. ‘Would you have me deny my husband? What sort of troll wife would I be then?’
‘I would have you declare the right man as your husband, Niece by marriage,’ Harald Haraldson said, his smile turning to a gloating smirk as laughter rippled through the crowd.
Kara raised her clenched fist and knew whatever Harald Haraldson wanted, she wanted the opposite. ‘This man is my husband. Reports of his death were wrong. Wrong, I tell you.’
‘All we have is your word, Kara Olofdottar.’ Ash’s uncle pursed his thin lips. ‘Ash Hringson tragically perished in the sea. We’ve all heard the saga his father commissioned. Can the dead return to life? Or is this man an impostor sent to prey on a vulnerable woman? We all know about the demons your mother battled.’
‘My wits have never been questioned. Mistakes have happened before,’ Kara stated in ringing tones as her stomach knotted. This was most definitely not how today was supposed to have gone.
‘Indeed. I seek to save you from a grievous one.’ Harald Haraldson spread out his gnarled hands. ‘We must take our time and be sure. Investigate this claim slowly and carefully without womanly hysterics.’
Kara stiffened. Harald Haraldson would stall on the enquiry and in the meantime would press for the king to award him the lands which he considered rightfully his, but which really belonged to Ash and their son. He might even find a reason why Ash should be banished for ever or even killed.
She refused to hand Harald Haraldson an easy victory. Somehow, she had to figure out a way to fight for Ash and give him back his life. Later, she’d sort out the marriage and what that meant for her and Ash. She was doing this for their son.
‘A woman knows her husband from a place deep within her soul. There is no need for a further investigation when one is as sure as I am,’ she said when she knew she had her temper under control. ‘You must know him, as well, unless you have gone blind and deaf, Uncle!’
Harald Haraldson only grunted.
‘Kara Olofdottar is within her rights to speak on this matter,’ the priest declared after an embarrassed silence where no one else spoke. ‘Who could know a man better than his wife? Her words must hold weight.’
She turned towards the crowd, seeking a friendly face or two. ‘Hear my words and mark them well, all of you. The man who stands before you is my husband. Lift the scales from your eyes. See that this man can be none other than Ash Hringson. How many horses have I saved through my skill? Or falcons’ wings fixed? How many people have I sewn up? How many times in the last few years have I ensured that timber or wool was delivered on time? Have I ever failed to honour a single agreement?’
A few started to murmur in the crowd.
‘This is Ash Hringson, the man who was once my husband,’ Kara continued steadily, knowing everyone was finally listening to her, including Ash. Her voice wasn’t going to vanish as it had when she was a girl and forced to speak in front of an audience. She was a grown woman with responsibilities now. ‘I can see his birthmark and his voice sounds the same as I remember it, but more importantly something deep within me tells me that this is him. Why it took him such a length of time to return is a tale he alone can tell. Who will join me in recognising him and welcoming him back to Raumerike?’
She waited expectantly, but no one moved or cried out.
‘What a thing to be recognised by one’s own wife who is about to remarry, but no one else,’ Ash said with his old dry humour to his voice.
The sound clawed at her heart and she had to look up at the ceiling. But still no one spoke. Most kept their eyes to the ground, though one or two stared defiantly at him.
‘You
