Page 38 of The Magic of Vanaheim
“I can handle the ship. Why don’t you use the full moon to vanquish your husband’s bear spirit? He won’t belong here properly until you’ve cleansed the foul magic poisoning his veins.”
Talvi’s high spirits were displaced by anger and dread. How dared Perhonen press him on this matter?
“Håkon has only been here for a day, and you’re already talking about subjecting him to such an arduous ritual?” Talvi hissed.
“You can protect him,” Perhonen stated.
“Besides, I’d say it’s much more fun to perform the ritual with you instead of being sacrificed by someone like Svanhild,” Astrid quipped.
It was meant as a joke, Talvi knew, but the mention of the High Priestess only made him angrier.
“Svanhild has nothing to say in my realm,” he growled. “And Håkon and I will perform the ritual whenever we please.”
Without waiting for any further reply, he stormed off. By the stars, he wanted Håkon to feel at home in Vanaheim. At the very least, he should feel safe. But how could Håkon ever feel at home when Talvi’s warriors treated him with hostility, and even Perhonen wanted to use him as a conduit for a carnal ritual without his consent? It was at times like this that Talvi missed his family even more than usual. If only one of them had been here, they would have helped him handle the madness of ruling. If his mothers were here, he could even whisk Håkon away, so they could spend time together, just the two of them. They could ride into the mountains and visit Magnus’ Needle. Talvi loved the secluded tower that looked as if it had been built in the clouds.
When Talvi arrived at the training field, Håkon was already surrounded by warriors and talking to Arngrim.
“Don’t expect us to ever forget you’re just Bergelmir’s dirty spy,” Arngrim spat. Talvi knew his friend wasn’t fond of theJötnar, but he couldn’t fathom why the usually jovial and funny Arngrim treated Håkon with outright hatred. Arngrim’s hazel eyes shone with a vicious fire Talvi hadn’t seen there before. “I can see right through you, the bastard son of an honorless king, never meant to rule, never meant to achieve anything worth a song. You’ll die nameless and forgotten.”
“Enough!” Talvi pushed himself between Arngrim and Håkon, making sure Arngrim had to retreat a few steps. He could feel Håkon behind him, his body as taut as a bowstring. “This is the royal consort you’re talking to. I won’t stand for this disrespect!”
Stunned into silence, the guards backed away, while Arngrim still glared at Håkon.
“Even the sharpest words of a skald don’t cut like a blade, don’t you agree, Arngrim Frekegar?” Håkon’s voice sounded icy. It sent a delighted shiver down Talvi’s spine. “So, do you want a duel, or are insults all you’re capable of?”
“No,” Talvi said resolutely. There was no way he would let Arngrim near Håkon if there was even the slightest risk of his husband getting hurt. But when he turned to drag Håkon back to the safety of the citadel, Håkon met him with a look of such hurt and confusion that Talvi suddenly found it hard to breathe. “Håkon?”
“My lord?” Another stab to Talvi’s heart. He didn’t want Håkon to call him lord, unless he was kneeling naked in their bedchamber, quivering with lust. He wanted to be Talvi for his husband. He wanted Håkon to call him Talvinen with this adorable little accent of his.
“You don’t have to fight to earn your place here. The place at my side is already yours.”
More confusion, but maybe a little less hurt.
“Do you want that duel? Or shall I kick Arngrim’s insolent arse for you?”
Arngrim snorted indignantly behind him, but Talvi couldn’t care less because Håkon’s lips parted in surprise and something like hope lit up his eyes.
“Let me have this fight,” Håkon said so quietly it was meant only for Talvi’s ears.
Talvi couldn’t resist stepping closer to him then, bringing his lips right to Håkon’s ear.
“It’s yours. And be sure that I won’t allow any of these fools to harm you.”
Håkon shuddered.
“What now?” Arngrim asked irritably, and a predatory grin lit up Håkon’s face.
“Let us fight. Are three shields enough for you?”
Talvi laughed.
Agitated magic was thrumming under Talvi’s fingertips. Standing at the edge of the training field, he watched the fight tensely.
Usually, Arngrim treated duels lightly. Talvi knew him to fight for the fun of it, neither to win nor to hurt. But today he fought with an almost obsessive fervor, swinging his ax at Håkon as if his life depended on it while Håkon stumbled under the relentless blows. Sweat stained Håkon’s fair hair dark where it stuck to his temples. Perhaps Talvi should have brought him a battle ax to fight with, for Håkon seemed to have difficulty wieldingIsbani.
Talvi winced as Håkon’s second shield was shattered, ripped nearly in half by Arngrim’s blow.
“Ready to yield yet, frosty locks?” Arngrim sneered.