The Steele Wolf

Page 11

“Are you okay, cousin?”
“No. Yes…. I don’t know. Maybe I should speak with my father.” I raised my head and scanned the crowd looking for him.
“He’s over there,” Siobhan pointed to the main hall and sure enough I saw my father duck into the building.
The main square was alight with colorful paper lanterns, music and dancing. Women walked around with trays on their hips, selling food. Children ran between them playing games. Men were in smaller groups off to the side sparring and wrestling with each other testing out the competition before tomorrow. Everyone was happy, excited and drunk. Everyone but me.
We made our way through the crowded streets and I felt someone press in close to my side. I looked up and saw Hemi. His face was stern as he gently touched my elbow and led me into the main hall.
Inside the hall a giant silver shield hung from the rafters and a hammer lay next to it. It was tradition that whoever wanted to enter the completion would do so by striking the mighty shield.  A line had already begun to form before the shield.  The warrior would step up, hit the shield and then come and speak an oath to the woman whose hand they hoped to win.
My lips felt dry and I kept trying to wet them as Hemi led me to the front of the hall. My palms were sweating and I found myself digging my nails into Hemi’s arm. I saw my father standing in front of the large stone fireplace with two high back chairs next to it. Bearen somehow had come back to the village without my knowledge and found time to change for the festivities.
His large sword leaned against the chair, and I counted at least two other blades on his belt. A glance behind the chair showed me another axe hidden within a few feet. His eyes darted warily between the clansman and I felt myself tense up. He was worried and I wasn’t sure why.
Slowly, I turned to sit down on the high back wooden chair, like a queen, as my father came over to address the room. All of the warriors, women and children, gathered as close as they could into the room. Others waited outside the windows and in the square to hear my father’s announcement.
Bearen stood tall and proud. He turned his piercing eyes upon the men in the crowd and spoke loudly, “Tonight is a night for many celebrations. Many of you have heard how my daughter was kidnapped in the dark of night and we thought we had lost her. Someone tried to steal that which is most precious to me. But by sky above, we got her back and I can’t bear the thought of losing her again. So I have called the strongest warriors from our clan together to issue a challenge. A challenge that goes back hundreds of years. The warrior’s test. The Kragh Aruuuu!”  He raised his fist into the air and howled the last word. The room erupted into howls of encouragement, mimicking the Aruuuu call.
Bearen continued, “This is also a test to find the fiercest and boldest among you who will be worthy to protect my daughter from all that hunts her and so the prize for the winner will be…my daughter as your lifemate. So without further delay, because we all want to get to the mead as soon as possible, let the challengers come forth.”
The men began to stomp their feet on the wooden floor. It was fast and matched the pace of my wildly beating heart. There was more howling, and I scanned the men’s faces trying to read their expressions when they looked at my father and me.
The first warrior, a young man with curly hair stood up and used the mallet to strike the shield.
Clang! Roars of approval moved through the hall. He came forward and knelt in front of my chair to pledge his oath to me.
I was taken aback by how young he was; he had to be younger than me. His green eyes twinkled with excitement and hope. I just prayed that my stupid plan wouldn’t get him killed.
“I’m Arthur and I choose to fight for you.” He grinned and pounded his chest playfully. “Min hjart en sterkur,” he recited. ‘My heart is strong.’
I was proud that I remembered the correct reply. “En meja min sver vera sterkur.” ‘But may your sword be stronger.’
He bowed low and I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks. The room erupted into whistles. I spared a look toward my father and he shook his head in disappointment. He knew and I knew that the boy wouldn’t win.
Clang! The shield rang again and another warrior came forward to declare his intentions. Some of the men looked me over appraisingly while others winked at me. A few were old enough to be my father; some were missing teeth and more than a few needed baths.
I was quite shocked when a familiar face rang the shield and knelt before me. His long black hair draped past his shoulders, and his eyes looked black by the firelight. My cousin, Bvork smirked at me and made a deliberate show of reaching for my hand to plaster a kiss on it. I quickly pulled it away and wiped it on the front of my dress, hearing a few laughs follow as he sauntered away. I leaned over to Odin who had moved to stand next to me.
“How can he enter? I whispered furiously. “He’s my cousin.”
“I did what you asked. I looked into the rules and nowhere does it state who can and can’t compete in the Kragh Aru. It’s what you were personally counting on.”
Sighing, I mentally wished that I were back in Calandry and taking classes again. My troubles there seemed so much easier than the trouble I was causing here. I was actually beginning to miss Syrani and her awful barbs.
The next clansman who was presented stood before me had a slight accent as he pledged his vow. Actually, I had heard quite a few variations on the pledge. I smiled widely when Fenri stepped forward and kneeled and grasped my hand. “My heart is strong.”
“But may your sword be stronger.” I smiled back and reached for his hand delaying him. I leaned forward and whispered urgently, “Do you think you can still win?”
“Are you changing your mind? You could have had me without the tournament.”
“No, I’m not changing my mind,” I answered.
“Then what choice do you give me? I have to win.” He pulled his hand roughly out of mine and moved away.
I felt a little guilty at what I was putting Fenri through. A slight cough made me realize that it was time to move on.
The grey haired and the bald Stahler men came, rang the shield and pledged followed by another clansmen whose furs were dirty and his helm covered his head and most of his face. He slurred through the vow as if he was drunk and then looked at me with a sneer in his voice. “This is what I traveled all this way for? This is the prize?” He hiccupped and started to fall over. “What a waste.”
I felt my hand pull back to slap him, but Odin caught me and sternly told him to move on. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he made his way back to a corner by the other two men. I realized I recognized him as the drunk Stahler and I decided I needed to keep a closer eye on those three.
The shield rang over and over. Sometime during the procession someone started playing the drums. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to hide from the rhythm and the rush of feelings and emotions that were rolling over me. I could feel them: excitement, joy, hope.  But then others came, darker ones: lust, hate, revulsion.
I opened my eyes and saw the piercing gaze of the Stahler men and I almost choked. I scanned the crowd again and met more angry eyes, but these were coming from my own family members; my Uncle Rayneld and my cousin Bvork.  Fear boiled up from within me and I tried to push it away. I desperately needed the noise to stop.