"He wintered in the land of the Danes once," Sibbe said, her voice dry and markedly devoid of sympathy. "Did you know that? He raided with Thialfi and his men, and was there when Thialfi fell and his longship was taken. He survived that battle. He was among the others who stole a ship to return home that summer with plunder. You might have remembered his name from the tales."
"Skorri is not an uncommon name," Valgard grumbled. "I do not remember everything I have ever heard of every man named Skorri, nor could I tell them apart." He leaned forward in his seat, looking on his second wife with interest. "What else?"
Standing before her husband in his hall, with his adult sons and his men in attendance, Sibbe was for the first time in her life unafraid. What would be, would be. "Gunnar was there, too. He remembers. I spoke with him before I returned."
"And what does Gunnar say?"
"That Skorri fights with strength beyond his size. That he snuck past the Danes on many nights. That he feels no pain from blades or fire. That he once saw Skorri so eager for a fight that the lad chewed on the edge of his own shield. That the only thing Skorri loves more than battle was his wife."
At Valgard's side, his tall son Koll snorted in derision. "Skorri is a goatherd, not a berserker. And Gunnar is an old goatherd as well."
"Gunnar is a goatherd now," Sibbe said, not bothering to look at Koll directly. Her gaze remained on her bearded, muscular husband. "But Gunnar did not always limp. He sailed with Thialfi as well. And my own father. He has always spoken truth to me."
"What else did Gunnar say?" Valgard pressed.
"He says that Skorri will never accept any amount of gold as recompense for his Halla's death," Sibbe said simply, her hands folded in front of her. "That the loss of the men you sent chasing him is not the end of your woes." She paused, and saw that Valgard could tell there was something else. Finally, she said it: "And Gunnar offered to take me as his wife when my husband and his sons are dead at Skorri's hands."
Koll roared with laughter. After a moment, so did his father, and then the dozen men in the room laughed as well. The serving wenches smiled, too, though there was little actual mirth in their eyes. They moved about the hall with ale and meat in silence.
"You don't seem amused by this, mother," said Bram. He sat at the end of one long table, sharpening his sword beside his meal. He had a tendency to do such things. He seemed convinced it made him look intimidating.
Sibbe ignored him. He wasn't really her son, anyway. She kept her eyes on her husband. "I do not find humor in this," she said simply.
"You find humor in nothing," Valgard scowled. "Not since we were married. Maybe not even before."
"Husband, I have done as you have asked. I have spoken to those who will not speak plainly to you. I have learned much in this that I wish to tell you, as a wife should tell her husband and a mother should tell her sons," she explained, pointedly ignoring that Valgard's brutish sons were, thankfully, not actually hers but borne instead by his first wife.
"Indulge me," Valgard shrugged.
"You asked when Skorri and his wife came to your hall, requesting to live in your lands and under your protection, why they had left Skorri's old chief. Do you remember what he said?"
"Something about green pastures and a warmer place for his wife to give birth," Valgard sighed.
"A goatherd," Koll repeated pointedly.
"Did you not notice that he referred to the coming child as hers? Not his?"
"I did not," Valgard admitted. He rolled his eyes. He hated it when Sibbe spoke to him like this. He would have to beat her for it later. One would think she would know that by now.
"It was not his child," Sibbe said. "Stillborn, as we all know. But not his child."
Valgard snorted. So did his sons. "Then he was already a cuckold before he came here,"
Bram said dismissively. "Makes one wonder about his supposed rage now."
"Indeed," Sibbe said, "but his raiding came before his marriage. They were a young couple. Married barely two years ago. He made only one voyage after he and Halla came together. So imagine – I know this is hard for you, so I will use small words," Sibbe noted, her eyes narrowing somewhat. "Imagine a man who fights as Skorri does. Someone who has raided much more than Valgard's sons. This man finds a woman, marries her, and when he finds she has lain with another in his absence, he does not kill her. Rather, he moves to a new land where few if any may know them."
"He is taken in by a strong lord. He swears his allegiance. And then the first time he is away from home, his lord and his lord's sons visit his small home and rape and murder his wife."
"Watch your tongue, Sibbe," Valgard snapped.
"My point is to ask: what manner of warrior forgives a wife who is once unfaithful to him? Who travels with her from their lands to avoid the scandal of her condition, giving up all he has when he could cast her aside for another woman? What must there be between them? Surely this is not a man who makes decisions based on fear or weakness," Sibbe suggested. "And if he kept her at his side for some other reason, perhaps for the sort of emotion unknown to my husband and my sons...if he made such sacrifices to keep his wife, consider: what would such a man do if he lost her?"
"If the bitch had given us what we'd wanted, we wouldn't have been so rough," Bram shrugged. He was still looking at his blade and whetstone. "How were we to know she was so fragile?"
"Tell me, Bram," Sibbe asked, her face emotionless, "how many of Valgard's men have you cuckolded?" The question hung in the hall like a cloud of smoke that refused to dissipate despite the silence that followed. Only Valgard and his sons were willing to meet her gaze; every other man's eyes turned to the floor, or to the wall, or to his own boots. "Koll? Valgard? How many women have you been similarly 'rough' with? How powerful does it make you feel to take whomever--?"
"Get out," Valgard growled.
Sibbe did not need to be told twice. She immediately left the hall.
Awkward silence remained in her wake. Valgard and his sons looked upon the rest of Valgard's men with searching eyes. Few of the men were willing to meet their gaze.
Valgard's hall grew quiet that night, despite the efforts of the host and the ale and food that was shared out among his warriors. It grew quiet, and before long, it grew somewhat empty. Perhaps only half a dozen men remained an hour after Sibbe had withdrawn. The others had all found reasons to leave early.
The serving maids were gone, too. Bram was the first to notice it. He was still seated at the end of the long table nearest Valgard's high seat, sharpening another blade. "Raghild!" he roared. "Where are you?"
Bram hadn't turned to look down to the end of the hall, where Raghild would have entered. Because of that, Bram didn't see the spear that flew across the hall before it was imbedded in the side of his head.
Hardly anyone else had been looking, either. Valgard's face snapped up from where he'd been contemplating his mug of ale on his high seat in time to see Bram fall from the bench. Blades were drawn, shields snatched up.
Skorri was there at the end of the hall, a shield on his left arm and now his sword drawn by the right. He didn't look that big. The blond goatherd wasn't small, certainly, but he didn't look all that imposing...except that Valgard was staring at him past the shaft of the spear that still wobbled in his peripheral vision. The blade was buried deep in his son's skull.
"That was stupid," Valgard glowered, rising out of his seat even as he picked up his axe. "Had you spoken before you attacked, you might have found that it was not we who killed Halla."
"Your wife spoke," Skorri growled. His words, in fact his whole body, had a tremor to them that was a little unsettling. "You lie well, but I heard the truth. You told her all I needed to hear. I heard everything on the roof."
Valgard blinked. "The roof?"
"One learns a few tricks while hiding from the Danes."
As if on cue, a piece of wood fell from above him. It was on fire. Valgard looked, and saw flames quickly eating into the ceiling of his hall from outside. The walls would certainly follow. It had been a warm, dry summer.
"I appear to be blocking the only exit," Skorri observed through gritted teeth, "though if you are lucky, you may convince the Valkyries that you deserve to leave with me tonight. I doubt your chances, but there's always hope."
************
Taylor took it upon herself, at Lorelei's invitation, to handle Alex's morning wake-up call. He was brought from slumber by the feeling of her slowly rocking back and forth on his cock. Alex's eyes opened to the sight of her, and of Lorelei kneeling behind her with her hands cupping and teasing her breasts. This went on until Taylor saw his eyes were open. At that, she leaned forward until she was lying on top of him.
"So how in the hell's anyone supposed to enjoy college when he has to wake up this early in the morning?" she asked with a grin.
He groaned and then sighed happily. "I'm all dedicated 'n' stuff," he mumbled. He pushed up into her at the hips. "Did a petition last week for an extra class load."
"We need to get you transferred to U-dub," Taylor said softly. Her own voice shook a bit as she spoke.
He let out a groan of pleasure. "Might have trouble focusing on classes there," Alex mused. His hands were on that wonderful ass of hers before he even thought about it.
"My thoughts exactly," Taylor said as she began kissing the side of his neck. Her hips continued to grind against his, slowly but more firmly. It was an absolutely wonderful feeling to wake up to. Then Lorelei's mouth began to mirror the attention Taylor was giving him on the other side of his neck. At that point, he was just plain spoiled.
"If you to want...want to stay and...play longer," he managed, "I think I'd...like that."
"Oh God yes," Taylor breathed out. It wasn't clear if that was in response to Alex's suggestion or just the pleasure of having him.
"I'll take very good care of her, master," Lorelei smiled into his ear.