appealing. Firm and soft all at the same time. The wedding night would be interesting.
With a smile on his lips, he walked to the edge of the sparring field to gather his men for their training. Since they’d been travelling the past few weeks, they’d been unable to train. It would be a nice change and work off some frustrations for him. He hadn’t actually meant to take over the training of her warriors. The Saxons had already been on the field when he’d arrived with his own men and they’d been doing it wrong. Was he supposed to simply stand there and watch them train inefficiently?
‘Enough lying around. Get to work,’ he called to his men, sending them grumbling on to the field.
‘Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you with that one,’ said Rolfe as he slowly got to his feet, his gaze on Gwendolyn’s retreating figure.
Vidar had known Rolfe since they both were boys. They’d been on nearly every adventure together and Vidar counted himself lucky that his friend had agreed to come with him to this remote corner of the world. Vidar had given his men the choice of coming north or staying to the south to battle, and he’d been pleased when all of them had chosen to follow him. Following his friend’s gaze to the woman’s back, Vidar nodded. ‘I think you’re right. I have to admit I’m looking forward to the challenge. I’d assumed she’d be a biddable wife.’
Rolfe threw his head back and laughed. ‘By the gods, man, why would you assume that? Have you ever met a biddable wife?’
Vidar frowned. He wanted to say that of course he had, but the truth was that he wasn’t certain. He’d never had any women in his life to speak of. His mother had died and he couldn’t remember her. His older sisters had all moved away once they’d become wives. Growing up, some of the slaves in his father’s home had been women, but they’d been shadows in the background who worked to make the household run efficiently. He’d met many women in his travels, but they’d all been passing amusements easily left behind with a trinket for their trouble.
Now that he thought of it, Eirik’s wife Merewyn was the only wife he knew. Vidar had seen them argue before, but never for long before either Eirik would sweep her up into his arms and take her to their chamber, or their voices would lower at the table and he couldn’t hear them anymore. Either way, they worked out their differences and Vidar had assumed it was because Eirik had reminded her of her place.
He shrugged off his thoughts. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t met a biddable wife. It only mattered that his wife would be biddable, because he had no intention of indulging her in anything else. ‘She’ll be obedient soon enough,’ Vidar said to his friend, shrugging out of his harness and unsheathing his sword.
‘You honestly believe that, don’t you?’ Rolfe eyed him as if he were daft.
Vidar held his sword up to the meagre light, silently cursing the absence of sunlight in this dark land. If the grey light could be believed, the blade was due for a polishing. ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I?’
Rolfe only shook his head. ‘I blame this on the fact that you’ve never kept a woman in your bed for more than a few nights at a time. If you keep them around a little longer, you start to learn little things about how to keep them happy.’
Vidar laughed. ‘That’s the difference between you and me, my friend. I don’t have to work so hard to keep them happy.’
Rolfe swung at him, but Vidar was ready for him and ducked out of the way, turning in a full circle to bring his sword around. Rolfe had already jumped back out of the way, as Vidar had expected he would. This wasn’t the first time they’d come to friendly blows.
‘Vidar.’ Eirik called his name, drawing their mock battle to a stop.
When Vidar looked over to see his brother striding across the field, Rolfe laughed again and slapped him on the back. ‘May the gods be with you, Brother.’ Then he trotted out on to the sparring field, leaving Vidar alone to face what appeared to be the wrath of his brother. Eirik’s brows were drawn together in a deep frown.
‘Vidar, what have you done?’
Vidar made a show of looking around the sparring field. His men had already cleared the field of debris and had paired off, sparring with their swords and knives. They had no need of barricades to keep them in tiny boxes, because they’d come of age training to never retreat in a single-opponent battle. It was a feat that required superior upper body strength, which helped them be successful.
‘The men are sparring,’ he answered and sheathed his sword, as it appeared this conversation might take up more of his time.
Eirik grumbled and raked a hand over the back of his neck. ‘What happened with the girl?’
‘The girl? You mean the woman who wanted to rip my head off? She had an issue with the way I was training the men.’
‘The Saxon men?’
‘Aye.’ Vidar inclined his head, irritated that he was being subjected to this questioning. After his talk with his lovely betrothed, he had a lot of aggression that he wanted to work off on the field. ‘What of it?’
‘You cannot come here and simply take over. From what I can gather, their warriors are the girl’s responsibility along with Rodor,’ Eirik explained.
‘Perhaps they were, but they won’t be any longer. I’ll challenge Rodor to see if he’s worthy of the post, but no wife of mine will lead warriors. She’ll be Lady of this land. She’ll do things that a Lady should do.’
Much to Vidar’s surprise, Eirik let out a laugh that rumbled up from deep in his chest. ‘And tell me, Brother, what are the things a Lady should do?’
Again, Vidar was at a loss. What did Merewyn do with herself all day? For the life of him, he didn’t have an answer. She saw to the needs of the children she’d borne his brother and she generally called out orders for meal preparation; but if she did anything else, he hadn’t the slightest notion what it was. He shrugged. ‘Anything she wants as long as she leaves the warriors and the battles to me. I’ll gladly stay out of her way, as long as she stays out of mine.’
Eirik looked at him for a long moment before his lips ticked up in a grin and he shook his head. ‘It strikes me that you are profoundly unsuited to marriage.’
Vidar grinned. ‘It only strikes you now? I’ve been telling you that all winter. I never wanted marriage.’
‘And yet you will do your duty.’ Eirik sobered and fitted him with a level gaze.
‘Aye. I always do my duty to you, Brother. You don’t have to question where my allegiance lies.’
‘I know.’ Eirik nodded. ‘It’s why you would’ve been my first choice for this marriage. I only chose Magnus because I know you’re not ready, but due to the circumstances...here we are. Ready or not.’
Vidar nodded. He’d spent the past few months coming to terms with that. While he was still bitter, he had come to accept his duty. ‘I still feel that Magnus made a mistake. This place was meant for him.’ He spread his arms out wide to encompass the entirety of the manor and the village beyond. Magnus was a leader who had flourished building the settlement. He was meant to lead a colony. To defend rather than attack. ‘Magnus could’ve been a king here. And yet he chose a mere settlement and a lowborn Saxon.’ Vidar had struggled not to resent his friend for his choice.
‘He
