“Any survivors?” someone asked.
By God, she could feel Tyr’s suffering deep in her bones.
“Few,” he answered.
“What happens when we get home?” an oarsman queried.
“Norway will be partitioned between Hardrada’s sons, Magnus and Olaf, as the law permits.”
“If our treaty with Hardrada is nullified,” Onetooth started, “where will the children of Odin safely gather?”
“As long as breath remains in my body, we will continue to thrive in the Trondelag. I’ll never bow to the cross as our forefather, King Olaf, did. His transgressions died with Hardrada. If Norway faces war again, I’ll be the first to raise my sword in her defense. Our sovereigns will face violent opposition if they try to forcibly convert us.Sancta Sedeswill never enjoy episcopal jurisdiction over our lands, or the people who seek religious freedom there.” He cocked an angry brow at Rachelle. “No man wearing the holy robes of the Church will ever be welcomed in my home—unless he’s dragged there in chains.”
She felt as small as an insect in his shadow. Tyr’s hostility made him seem a hundred feet taller. Deadly, more and more like the maddened wraith that butchered those men in the moors. The little cross pendant, hanging on a gold chain around her neck, seared her skin. A precious gift from her mother, she refused to take it off. Swallowing hard, she prepared for whatever came next.
“The English crushed our army, not our hearts.” Tyr pounded his right fist against his chest. “We’ve prospered keeping the old ways, venerating Odin, and remembering our blessed ancestors. For countless generations, we smashed our enemies—burying their brittle bones in unmarked graves, condemning their spirits to roam the earth as nightwalkers. We are feared and revered, loved and despised across three oceans. Don’t be troubled my brothers, even Odin’s children don’t know whenRagnarokcomes. Lives will be lost. But remember, some shall be spared. Death in battle is our duty.”
“Overly disparaging, don’t you think?” Saffron colored eyes dominated the lean, but attractive face of the man who daredinterrupt. He wore a green and gray tartan over a long-sleeved linen shirt.
Rachelle couldn’t believe a Scotsman was on ship.
“Not everyone has an open invitation to Valhalla.” He maneuvered dramatically around thejarl.
Tyr’s face tightened. “No,” he agreed. “And not all Christians are hunted down like swine in the Trondelag. Perhaps I should have kept the old tradition alive whilst we were in England, cousin, and skinned you alive and nailed your bloody carcass to the church doors in York.”
Onetooth joined Rachelle. She looked at him in question.
He patted her hand. “Don’t lose any peace over them. That’s Aaron McNally, thejarl’spatronizing cousin, first son of his departed uncle, Brandon McNally. They grew up together in Scotland.”
“Is he …”
“Aye.” Onetooth’s bushy eyebrows drew together. “A bloody Christian.”
“And the threat—”
“Masculine posturing, nothing more. Aaron is a leech who takes advantage of Tyr’s generosity. Instead of pledging fealty, Aaron meddles in all things sacred and political even though Norway isn’t his homeland. He prefers to sow seeds of discontent over hard work. If ever a man deserved to have his black heart ripped out…” Onetooth swallowed his last words. “Disregard everything Tyr said about nailing his useless hide to the church doors.”
“Aren’t most legends based on truth?”
The oarsman regarded her, then answered. “You’re a witty one. I admit there’s truth in it. A century ago, enemies of the church were indeed punished that way.”
She jerked upright. Her tutors had conveniently forgotten to share this piece of history with her. Then another man came forward.
“Stegir?”
Cringing, Rachelle groaned at Tyr’s reaction.
His shoulders slumped. “Dead, goddamn it. Dead.” Appearing defeated, he said, “I’m finished speaking.” He stormed away.
She sighed and turned to Onetooth. “I pray he has more brothers.”
“Two,” the henchman answered.
She smiled ruefully. “Why doesn’t Tyr live with his family in Scotland?”
“Ah,” Onetooth sighed. “He chose this life over a Christian one. Although his mother and siblings prefer the new religion, he followed in his sire’s footsteps. Praise the gods. He traded his inheritance in Scotland, Ireland, and the Orkneys for his lands in Norway. Without him, Odin’s legacy would have disappeared. And now, he’s one of the only chieftains powerful enough to afford the high taxes Hardrada imposed on all the pagan families to avoid severe criminal penalties.”
She looked up at Tyr’s menacing form. He’d moved away from the crowd and was staring overboard. Beyond her own fatigue and heartache, thejarl’spain squeezed her heart, too.