Foretold Page 16

  “Tell the king I am here. He will allow me to enter.”

  “He is in the practice field waiting for you.”

  “I’ll be back soon with the king.” Lothar turned and stormed towards the field he used during the villagers training sessions.

  He spotted the king standing in the middle of the muddy field with a sword in each hand. “Malachy, explain why your wife is keeping me from the garrison,” Lothar said while walking toward the king.

  “She’s preparing Dara for the ceremony. I promised her I’d keep you occupied until just before the wedding.”

  “Send out your men to keep me occupied then, I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’ve trained people in your way of battle, now it’s your turn to learn. Choose which weapon to use.” Malachy held out the swords by the hilt, pointing downward.

  “Makes no difference, I will not fight you.” Lothar turned and steps away.

  “No weapons, good choice.”

  Hearing the man’s footfalls slurping through the mud behind him, Lothar turned his head, spotting Malachy just before the man tackled him. Shaking the dark slop from his face, Lothar pushed up to stand, only to be pushed down into the muck again by the king’s hand on his back.

  “Had enough, Norseman?” taunted Malachy.

  Rising to his feet, Lothar noted the man backed up a few steps. “Very well, old man; show me what you can do.” Crouching, Lothar charged towards Malachy, grasping him around his waist, as the king twisted his body, causing Lothar to trip over Malachy’s outstretched leg and fall to the ground again.

  “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  Lothar narrowed his eyes and stood. “That’s two, Malachy, you won’t get a third.” Lothar stormed towards Malachy, hurling his shoulder against Malachy’s chest, knocking him backwards.

  “Finally, some fight out of you,” Malachy said rubbing the back of his head as he rose and turned to Lothar. “You just might be worthy of her.” Malachy raised his clenched fists.

  Lothar side-stepped closer to Malachy, keeping his fists level with his chest. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Malachy lunged forward, grasped Lothar around the waist with his right hand while repeatedly punching Lothar in the ribs with his left. Lothar raised his clasped hands, slamming his arms down Malachy’s shoulders and back, knocking him downward. Malachy grabbed Lothar’s ankle and pulled hard, throwing him to the muck.

  Sitting in the soggy ground, Lothar grabbed a handful of mud and threw it at Malachy, splattering mud over his chest. Malachy returned fire with more handfuls towards Lothar.

  Soon, they were laughing as they continued slinging mud at each other, mud caking them from head to foot.

  “King Malachy? Lothar?”

  Lothar stopped mid-throw when he heard Abbot Sean call out his name, only to be hit with a mud-ball against his shoulder.

  Lothar turned back to throw the ball in his hand.

  “Drop it, Lothar,” said Sean as he slowly walked towards them.

  Lothar turned to Malachy, noticing the king’s empty hands, raised eyebrow, and a slight nod before releasing the mud to fall from his hand.

  “Queen Enid sent me to find the two of you. If you don’t hurry and wash up, you’ll miss your own wedding.” Sean slipped in the mud and landed on his buttocks.

  Lothar joined Malachy in a huge belly laugh.

  Stifling their snickers, the two of them walked over to Sean, and together they hauled the Abbot from the mud and helped him out of the field and back toward the garrison.

  “Enid will be furious with me if I track mud into the fortress.”

  “I don’t think Dara would appreciate me showing up covered in mud either.”

  “What the two of you need is a bath,” said Sean. “I just need to change my robes.”

  “Heating water for a tub will take too long,” said Malachy.

  “Sean, take Malachy with you to get cleaned up, and let him borrow a robe of yours.”

  “How do you expect me to clean the mud from my face and hair?”

  “Use the water in the barrels.”

  “That water’s very cold,” argued Malachy. “I’ll have some heated over a fire.”

  “Fine, you wait for it. I’ll be back.”

  “Where are you going? The ceremony will be held near sunset and its mid-afternoon already.”

  “I’m not going to wait for water to warm. I’ll just go for a quick swim in the river.” He turned to leave.

  “I’ll send a guard to your room with the clothing Enid chose for you for the wedding.”

  “Thank you, Malachy, I won’t be long.”

  “A moment Lothar,” Sean grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. “After you left Guthrie’s home, I convinced him to give me the rings.” He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a leather draw-string bag. “You and Dara will be proud to wear them.” Pulling apart the strings, Sean opened the bag and shook them into Lothar’s hand.

  “I don’t know how to thank you and Guthrie.”

  “You still owe him the two bottles of mead. I only convinced him of the fact that I hadn’t seen him at mass lately, and he could give me the rings until the ceremony as an act of good faith.”

  Lothar glanced at Fenris, the wolf-head design that matched his cuffs, and the interlinking spirals, similar to Dara’s manacles, on the silver bands. Tilting them in the light, he turned the bands until he spotted the inscription, then smiled. He placed them into the bag and handed it back to Sean. “Thank you, Sean. And you’re right I will be proud to wear mine as I hope Dara will be too.”

  “You won’t know until you place it on her finger, so you better hurry back,” said Sean as he patted Lothar, then looked at his hand, wiping the mud from his fingers.

  Lothar waved to Malachy and Sean then hurried towards the river.

  Chapter 31

  “Ouch, that hurts,” hissed Dara as Amena drew a comb through her damp, tangled hair.

  “Sorry miss," apologized the queen's servant. "Please hold still.”

  Dara noticed Queen Enid glance up from her sewing. “Amena, use some of the scented oil to loosen the snarls.” She returned to stitch the wedding gown.

  “It’s lovely as it is,” Dara said turning her head towards Enid only to have Amena move her head forward again then rub oiled hands through her hair. Dara closed her eyes relaxing as the scent of lavender filled the room, noting Amena no longer strained the comb through her hair.

  “Sewing the final stitches on your wedding day is for good luck. Your Father and I wish for your happiness.”

  “Are you certain?” Dara opened her eyes. “I haven’t seen the king all day. I’m not sure he approves.”

  “He’s been under foot and in a foul mood, muttering all week about your wedding. I told him this morning leave the fort and not come back until he talked with Lothar before the wedding.”

  “Do you think that was a good idea?”

  “He’s been gone for most of the day,” giggled Enid. “Your father is a fair man, if you give him a chance, Dara.” Enid stood and gave the gown a shake. “It’s done.” She placed the gown over her arm, then stepped over to Dara. “Your hair shines like polished copper.”

  “Look at the way her hair forms natural ringlets at the ends,” commented Amena as she removed the linen towel from under Dara’s hair. “I didn’t have to curl it for her.” Amena folded the towel then placed it on the back of the chair next to the table.

  “Do you have a looking glass?” asked Dara.

  “You’ll have to wait until you have the gown and hair braided,” said Enid. “Amena, please help us.”

  Dara stood, removing the linen cloth she had used after her bath from around her body, then raised her hands. Amena handed her the under-dress which Dara slid over her head and down her body. She rubbed her fingers over the material. “The silky texture flows over me like a second skin.”

  Dara stepped forward, she glanced out the narrow
window slit in the wall noting the sky turning golden orange. “The sun is getting close to setting.”

  “Then we need to finish preparing you for your wedding,” said Enid as she handed one side of the gown to Amena. Dara slid her hands under the gown and through the sleeves while Enid and Amena slid it over her head.

  Dara stared down at the silver and gold stitching of intertwined trinity knots along the hem of the gown. “It’s beautiful, Queen Enid, thank you.”

  “I have a gift for you Dara, my present to you as a bride. Enid walked over to where she was sewing, pulled out a green material and walked back to Dara. She draped the material over Dara’s left shoulder, and carefully fastening the material to the gown with a golden broach. Enid stepped back. “There, the colors of green and gold bring out your eyes.”

  Dara looked at the finely crafted animals on the broach and reached her hands towards it. “It’s too much Queen Enid. I can’t accept this.”

  “Nonsense, Dara," Enid lifted Dara’s hands and patting them. "It’s my gift to you. It was a bride’s gift from my parents when I wed your father. I’ve been unable to have children of my own, so I will pass the broach to you.”

  Dara bowed her head. “Thank you.” She sniffed, lifted her head and asked, “Can I see now?”

  “Not yet, we have to finish your hair. It will only take a few moments,” said Amena as she pulled out her comb.

  Taking a seat on the chair again, Dara drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair, then stopped and narrowed her eyes. “You’re not going to let me see my reflection are you?”

  “You’ll see your reflection in his eyes,” smiled Enid. “Until then, you can wait.”

  Amena remained silent as she wove small braids along each side of Dara’s head, gathering the braids together and tying them with a ribbon.

  A knock on the door broke the silence.

  “Enter,” Enid called out.

  “Ready for the ceremony, daughter?”

  “Yes.” Dara stood watching her father smile as he walked into the room. Enid walked over to Malachy and brush back a damp lock of his hair. “Did you talk to Lothar?”

  “We met.”

  “And?”

  “We worked out some our differences.” He kissed Enid’s cheek, then turned to Dara. “Come now, your groom is waiting.”

  LOTHAR STOOD IN FRONT of Abbot Sean, pulling the edge of his nettle-cloth tunic away from his neck, and wiggling his shoulders against the material. He gazed out at the crowd of villagers that filed into the church and sat on the wooden benches.

  “Nervous, Lothar?” whispered Sean.

  Lothar glanced towards Sean, noticing the clean white robe he wore. “The cloth of this shirt is making me itch. I wonder if the queen planned it.” He turned to watch Queen Enid walk over and sit on one of the two formal chairs to his left.

  “How would she have known you’d have a reaction?”

  Lothar reached inside his shirt and scratched his chest. “I’ve never worn nettle cloth before today.”

  “Would you rather have shown up here dripping wet?

  “Of course not.”

  “I’ll hurry the ceremony.”

  “You met with Serle to get the mead.”

  “Serle gave me four bottles, and I gave two of them to Guthrie. What do you plan to do with the others?”

  “One is for the feast, and the other is to enjoy alone with Dara after the ceremony.”

  Sean nodded then looked up. “You won’t have to wait any longer, I see King Malachy with Dara. Now face me until I tell you to turn.”

  Lothar closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then exhaled with a groan. He shook his shoulders and opened his eyes. He watched Sean raise his hands, noting the crowd quieted behind him. The abbot then nodded to the right of Lothar towards the man standing with the lyre in his arms.

  The musician strummed the lyre, while Lothar stretched his fingers wide, then clinched them into fists, not wanting to scratch again. Lothar heard the sounds of admiration coming from the villagers behind him. Closing his right eye, he turned slightly to the left.

  Sean leaned forward. “Not yet, be patient.”

  Lothar noticed Malachy standing next to him and Dara further left of the king.

  The music ceased when Sean raised his hand. “We are gathered here to witness the joining of Lothar and Dara in Holy matrimony.” The abbot called out. “Who is her representative for the ceremony?”

  “I, King Malachy, will represent her for the church.”

  Sean bowed to the king, then lifted his head “And who will be representative for Lothar.”

  “I am,” said a male voice behind him. Lothar turned to see Guthrie walking towards him, then stopped between him and the king.

  “The abbot said you might need someone to stand for you during the ceremony, said Guthrie then shook Lothar’s hand. "I received my bottles as you promised.”

  Sean continued. “Let the representatives bring the couple forward to join hands.

  Lothar stepped ahead when Guthrie waved his hand forward, then turned and held out his hand. He watched the king place Dara’s hand into his, then step back.

  Stunned, Lothar stood gazing at Dara from her the top of her flowing tresses of burnished copper to the gold and silver interlaced knots at the bottom of her dress. He understood the crowd’s sound of approval.

  He heard Sean continue with the ceremony, the words faded into the background as he lifted her hand to his lips, then stood there staring at Dara. She was resplendent in the silky white gown that shimmered over her skin. He noted her meadow green eyes matched her sash and the broach that glinted off the light of the altar candles. He stroked his thumb across the back of her hand, and smiled noting her cheeks glowed crimson as he gazed upon her.

  “Lothar,” whispered Dara, leaning her head forward. “The knee-bender’s talking to you.

  He turned his head towards Sean.

  “Take the ring, Lothar,” The abbot held out the silver bands in his hand.

  Lothar picked up the smaller ring, held it between his fingers, then nodded to Guthrie.

  “Now, place it on Dara’s finger and repeat after me. I Lothar take you Dara as my wife, and let this ring be a symbol of my eternal love.”

  Lothar placed the sliver band around the third finger of Dara’s left hand. “Valkyrie, this ring is a symbol of my eternal love for you, as we join together, our two worlds become one. So is my word, so is my bond.”

  Sean cleared his throat, the leaned towards the couple. “Did you forget the words?”

  “He said the words I needed to hear, Sean,” said Dara as she smiled to Lothar.

  Sean took a deep breath. “Very well, then.” He straightened his robes and continued. “Now Dara take the ring and slide it over his finger as you say; I, Dara, take you Lothar, as my husband, and let this ring be a symbol of my eternal love.”

  “Lothar, I take you as my husband. I give you this ring as a symbol of my eternal love, as we share our lives together.” Lothar noticed Dara biting her lower lip as she slid the ring on his finger. “So is my word, so is my bond,” she added smiling up at him. He grinned and squeezed her hand.

  “Well, you said your own oaths to each other; they’re just as binding before God.” Sean said to the smiling couple, then looked toward the crowd. “Is there anyone here that can give just cause why they shouldn’t marry?”

  Lothar turned his head towards the crowd when he heard murmuring behind him. He searched the room for movement, noticing no one came forward. Smiling, he turned back to Dara, and nodded to the abbot.

  “Then, with the blessing of the Holy Spirit, and King Malachy, I proclaim you husband and wife. Lothar you may-,” Lothar didn’t hear Sean finish his sentence, as he was too busy wrapping his arms around Dara, kissing her.

  He finally released her, grabbed her hand and pulled her through the cheering crowd.

  “Where are we going? They’re expecting us to join them for the feast.”

&nbs
p; Lothar leaned down to her ear. “I’ve got to get out of these clothes,” he whispered.

  “Why?”

  Lothar pulled the collar of his tunic aside.

  “How’d you get those red blotches over your chest?”

  “It’s from the nettle-cloth tunic the Queen set out for me.”

  “Let me tell someone, we are leaving.”

  “No, they will figure I’m in a hurry to take you to bed.”

  “Are you?”

  “What better way to take my clothes off, than for you to help me remove them.” He wiggled his eyebrows, then raced after her towards her chamber.

  Once inside, he closed and bolted the door. Dara walked over and carefully pulled the tunic over his head.

  “You’re blistered in several areas.” She flung the tunic onto the floor. “Why didn’t you say something,” she hissed.

  “I didn’t want to ruin our wedding, Valkyrie.” Lothar gazed down at the red bumps over her chest. I’m just glad the queen gave me linen trousers instead of nettle cloth.”

  “By the way your body reacted, that would have really caused problems,” giggled Dara. “Now, sit on the bed so I can examine your chest.”

  “Yes, Valkyrie,” said Lothar as he sat on the edge of the bed. “We can get lost in a bed this size.”

  “I guess you’ll have fun finding me then won’t you.” She picked up the linen cloth she used as a under her hair earlier in the day, then walked over a grabbed the clay jug of water and returned to the bed. She dipped the material into the water, tapping the material over his rash.

  “That feels better, Valkyrie, thank you.” He kissed her hand. “Now let’s get you out of your clothes.” Lothar unpinned the broach from her shoulder, then tossed it onto the table, while letting the sash fall to the floor.

  “I don’t have a rash,” she breathed.

  “No rash,” he kissed her neck. “But I can tell your body’s burning for my touch.”

  Chapter 32

  Lying in bed, Lothar traced circles over Dara’s bare back as she nestled upon his shoulder. He gazed at the outline of sunlight surrounding the tapestry-covered window.