Page 95 of The Caged Viking

He’d finally resigned himself to the fact that Kirstin had left him and he would never see her again. There remained a dull ache in the region of his heart when he allowed himself to think of her, which wasn’t often during his hard-working, demanding days, but the nights…ah, the nights were difficult, especially since he was no longer falling into bed only when he was blindfuller with drink. What he needed was a woman to while away those late hours, but that would have to wait until the springtime when he was no longer landlocked. For now, he survived. Even so, it hurt.

He swore to himself that he would never again in the future allow himself to be so emotionally entangled with a woman. Love? Ha! From now on, it would be lust, and only lust.

“Are you ready to perform our wedding?” Thorkel asked, coming up behind him in the great hall where Hauk sat at one of the far trestle tables.

“Pff! As ready as I will ever be,” Hauk replied, knowing that his friend was taking great pleasure in Hauk’s discomfort over such a duty. Usually the duty fell to the lawspeaker at the Viking assemblies called Things, or Althings where many weddings took place, or at some royal estate where a lawspeaker was in residence, but since they had no such person here, Thorkel had asked Hauk if he’d perform the task for him and Signe.

Hauk had tried to pass the chore off to Egil. After all, Egil had been married enough times, and should know the words by now. But Egil had outright refused. “Me, I’d rather kiss a boar’s arse as speak the ancient words afore a crowd of drinking Norsemen, not that I remember them,” he’d scoffed.

Hauk’s sentiments exactly.

Signe and Frida followed after Thorkel, one carrying a pitcher of ale and the other four wooden goblets. Hauk had asked them to come share a cup with him to discuss some plans to be made, both for the wedding and the yule feasts. The Vikings celebrated twelve days of yule, or Jol, from the solstice onward. The Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, would arrive a mere two sennights from this Thorsday, with much to be arranged.

If Hauk had a wife, she would be the one doing all this planning. Not him. Hauk didn’t want to think about the irony of his actually having a wife, but having to do this anyway.

“You two still want to marry on Jul eve?” Hauk asked. “We could do it during the first night of the Jul feasts.” Which made more sense to him, lumping all of these celebrations together.

Signe and Thorkel looked at each other and nodded at some understanding they must have decided on aforehand. He noticed that they held hands, even as they sipped at their drinks.

Signe spoke for the two of them. “We prefer our ceremony to be separate from the yule ones. It would have more meaning to us on a separate day.”

Thorkel’s face flushed and he took a quick swig of ale to cover his embarrassment. It was obvious this was Signe’s idea, and he was going along with her, to avoid an argument. Smart man!

“You do not have to worry about anything. The decorations, the food to be served, the music. We will do everything,” Signe was quick to add.

Except perform the ceremony.

And was I supposed to be worrying about these things?

And what’s this about music?

Aarrrgh!

“By the by, I hope no one is expecting us to hold a feast for twelve days. The first and last night will be it,” he declared, and he didn’t care if it went against tradition or expectations or anything else, or if folks started calling him “The Grumpy Viking,” along with “The Caged Viking,” or “The Forsaken Viking,” all of which he’d overheard in passing. This jarl business was getting more involved than he’d ever imagined. He would resign, if he could.

“So, is Ingolf still planning a yule visit?” Thorkel asked, having the good sense to change the subject.

“Yea, he is. He and his family and guardsmen will arrive three days before Jul begins, in plenty of time for your wedding.” He waggled his eyebrows at the two of them.

“How will they get here? The snow is thigh high, and even though we keep paths dug to the out buildings and cotters’ homes, I can’t see them tramping by foot through the snow.” This from Thorkel, who’d had to supervise much of that digging.

“As long as there is a crust of ice on top of the snow, he will probably come in a sleigh,” Hauk mused. “That means you must make sure there is room in the barn for the horses, both the ones pulling the sleigh and those ridden by any retainers he might bring.”

Thorkel nodded.

“I will need to have the bedchambers and bed closets made up for all of them,” Signe said. “What do you plan?”

Again, they expect me to be planning these things? By the gods, I wish I were off a-Viking, or wintering in the Rus lands. Anyplace without all these responsibilities. He sighed and decided, “We will let Ingolf and his wife have my bedchamber. His two daughters will share the guest bedchamber. And you and Thorkel will get Bjorn’s bedchamber for the yule season.”

“Nay, you cannot do that,” Signe protested. “Where would you and Bjorn sleep.”

“In bed closets. It won’t be the first time for either of us,” Hauk said.

“Really, Hauk, we appreciate the offer, but we had planned to use one of the cotters’ huts,” Thorkel said.

“Nay! This is our wedding gift to you, mine and Bjorn’s.”

They agreed, reluctantly, but thankfully, compromising that they would use that bedchamber for their wedding night only.