Chapter 11
The noise that echoed around Per's hall almost deafened Svanhild, music and thoughts ricocheting off the tiled walls. Her face ached from smiling at everyone who had greeted her as the new Lady of the Icy Shores.
The title still sounded strange, almost foreign. How must Margit feel, all alone in the hall of the Icy Shores? Per had organised this feast, and there had been no time for Svanhild to return home, which she knew must look uncaring. Still, it had hurt when Margit turned down her invitation to the Long Moons palace.
A familiar face would have been welcome. It drained her energy to sit among all the selkie lords who'd laughed at her and applauded Klaus. She drifted from food basket to food basket, circling around the hall. If only Aleks hadn't insisted on taking guard duty. He stood just inside the door to the hall, his hand on his sword and his eyes always on her.
Everyone was polite, perhaps overly so. She was the heroine of the moment, but could she prove herself as a leader? She scratched at her wrists, where shining new golden arm rings felt cold and odd in comparison with her old rope bracelets.
“My lady. What a pleasure.”
Svanhild's heart sank as she turned to graciously greet the selkie she had most hoped not to see. Harald, the man Klaus had tried to betroth her to, the man who had insulted her in this very hall just a few weeks earlier. She tried to politely move on past him, but he grabbed her arm. She could feel Aleks at her side in seconds.
“Leave him be,” she warned silently, and jerked her arm free.
“While we all admire your bravery, my lady, do not believe that any of us have changed our minds,” Harald said, staring into her face with burning eyes. “I am willing to acknowledge that you have the right blood and breeding to lead us. But you are a woman. You cannot rule us. Marry a good man, and I will happily follow him. My sons will obey your sons. But I will not do what a woman tells me.”
Svanhild drew in a deep breath. Harald's outburst was hardly surprising, but it was certainly not welcome.
“I will marry if I wish, my lord Harald,” she said softly. “But I will not marry on your command, or to a man chosen for me by others. Furthermore, my husband will not be my ruler. I will lead the selkies myself, as I have earned by right of blood and right of battle. Do you challenge my authority?”
She held his gaze for a moment, watching his anger mingle with fear as her men began to gather behind her.
“No, my lady,” he said, looking down at the floor. “I meant no offence.”
“Will you swear allegiance to me personally, not to my husband or house?” she asked him.
He sank to his knees on the hall floor.
“Svanhild of the Icy Shores, I swear to honour you as my leader and queen as long as we both live. Please accept my pledge of allegiance.”
He looked up at her, a hint of mocking anger still glinting in his eyes.
Svanhild sighed.
“I accept your pledge,” she said stiffly, placing one hand on his head for a fraction of a second before sweeping past, desperate to have Harald out of her sight.
The ancient selkie bond of allegiance, sworn by a warrior to his lord and a wife to her husband, could not be broken. Harald would not betray her now, but neither would he make her life easy. No doubt he felt humiliated - by a woman, no less. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the atmosphere in the hall felt a little uneasy now, a little more tense. Everyone had heard Harald's words.
“An excellent start to the evening, my lord Harald,” Per said, his words booming around the hall. “I suggest that we all follow suit and swear allegiance to the Lady Svanhild as our lady and queen. I am more than happy to begin.”
He bowed his head low to Svanhild and began to recite the words of the oath. Svanhild smiled at him, but she could feel the tension building up around the hall, and almost hear the silent thoughts flitting from selkie to selkie.
One small group, who had clustered together at the back of the hall, began to move towards the door. Would they leave without swearing? She turned to watch them, her breath frozen in her throat, Per's words barely registering.
Aleks stepped forwards to stand in front of the door, a guard at each of his shoulders. He said nothing, just stared straight ahead, the light from the open door catching in his blond hair. The group of lords stopped moving. Different expressions flitted across their faces, presumably as they argued amongst themselves.
Per had completed his oath, and Svanhild lay her hand on his head gently. He smiled up at her, then rose and stood next to her.
“Will you be next to swear allegiance to my cousin?” he called, opening his arms wide to the angry-faced selkie lords. Svanhild's vision began to blur at the edges. This could all unravel so easily.
“It would be our pleasure,” one lord said, his tone so smooth and charming that she could almost believe he hadn't intended to leave. The five lords knelt before her at once, reciting the words of the oath in quick succession. Then more joined them, and more, until every man in the hall had sworn allegiance, and - to Svanhild's delight - all of the women as well.
On the surface, she had won. But she had seen reluctance in many of those eyes. What worth did allegiance have if it was built on fear?
“You've done it,” Aleks whispered, the words for her alone. She shook her head slightly, glancing over at where he still stood in front of the door.
“There are still many challenges,” she told him.
“At least now you have a chance of leading the selkies to victory. They may be uncertain about your rule now, but they will come to trust you in time.”
“I hope you will always be with me,” Svanhild said on a sudden impulse. She felt his smile.
“I live to serve you, my lady of the Icy Shores,” he said softly. “My love.”