Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the Snow-Walker Trilogy
Violent crashes of thunder rocked the earth as the horse sprinted over the dark stretch of land, chunks of mud tearing up at its hooves' merciless attack. Pressing her body closer against the horse's neck, Jessa dug her heels in once more, urging it to go faster. Rain pelted them as they drew ever closer to the castle hanging in the shadows of the cliff before them, the winds whipping her riding cloak against her tired and soaked body. The sky lit up as a bright flash of lightning struck, and Jessa tightened her hold as a tree came crashing down into their path. Without hesitation she gave a small flick of the reins, forcing them to leap over the obstacle and continue the run. She had come too far to be deterred by a little poor weather.
Another shock of lightning spread through the sky as she reached the outer wall, and for a second her surroundings were revealed as if midday. A second was all she needed to see the armed figure jump off the parapet, however.
Leaping up, she balanced on the balls of her feet on the saddle as she veered the horse sharply to the right. With a swift turn she unsheathed her two daggers and jumped off the back of her horse to where her attempted attacker had landed. His shock at being thwarted lasted only a second before he charged at her, his sword raised high.
Bending her knees, Jessa ran close to the ground, and dodging his first swing rammed her shoulder into his gut. As he fell slightly forward over her she hooked her arm under his armpit, twisted back around and threw him over her body. Before he could even catch his breath she was straddled above him, one dagger at his throat, the other at his heart. His sword lay uselessly in the mud.
Her victory didn't last long. As she opened her mouth to question her attacker, long legs flew up and crossed over her neck. With a moment so fast her eye couldn't track it, they kicked out and down, forcing her back and slamming her head into the ground. Gasping for air as his legs squeezed her neck tighter, Jessa flipped the dagger in her hand and stabbed it into his calf. Hard.
The man gave a great curse but did not relent his hold, and for a second, Jessa admired his determination. The need to breathe was starting to become pressing, however, quickly diverting her attention to the task at hand. She wretched the dagger out of his leg with a twist, the sudden pain making his leg jolt. That slight loosening was all she needed. Jessa quickly released her head from under his legs and rolled free, springing lightly to her feet.
She was immediately tackled right back down by an angry blur and an illustrious string of curses that would have made Skapti proud. The stranger gripped her wrists tight, threatening the fragile bones until her daggers unwillingly fell. His biceps bulged as her pinned her into the mud and she groaned at his dead weight on her. The man might have seemed lean, but he could give Brocheal a good fight with those muscles.
He remained unaffected by her squirming attempts to get free. "Don't tell me this is what you Vikings have resorted to? Sending in scrawny assassins to kill me? I think I'm offended."
Jessa head butted the man, sending him flying back. In three steps she had re-armed herself and was standing before him in a ready fighting stance. Her hood had fallen back in her attack and the wind tossed her long locks, making them dance like the fire in her eyes.
"I'm neither assassin nor Viking, but I still will not hesitate in killing you if you try to stop me from entering this castle."
"A woman," the man cried shocked. "Wait-"
"What was that?" Jessa growled. She sprung into action, forcing the man back as he tried to block attacks from both knife and limb. "You dare stop the fight on account of my gender?"
"I stop because we are not enemies, Lady Jessa!"
Jessa paused in her attack, watching the man carefully as he held his hands up in a placating manner. He came closer and she readjusted her grip on her daggers, but he merely peered into her face, eyes searching. Finally he leaned back with a great laugh, "It is you! Why didn't you say so?"
"There wasn't really a great opportunity for introductions with you trying to take my head off and all."
"Oh, right." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Sorry about that, but I'm sure you can understand how an unannounced rider coming in at such a speed in the dead of night would be alarming. We weren't expecting you for some time, and especially not coming in from the outlands."
"Given your current trouble with Vikings, I figured a course by land would be more advised." Jessa tried to make out the man's features in the darkness. "You recognized me, have we met before?"
"Once, and only for a brief moment, but it left a lasting impression. You saved my life two years ago when our war bands joined together in the eastern mountains."
A flash of lightning blanketed the sky, blinding her for a second before her eyes adjusted to the sight of the man before her. He was tall, heavily muscular, and wearing a familiar crest on his armor. Mud marred short blonde hair and sharp cheekbones, but his blue eyes shone bright and smiling at her. She sheathed her daggers.
"Jarl Eric. If I remember correctly you spent an amount of time sprawled in the mud then, too."
His laugh was deep and rolled smoothly between them like the thunder across the field. "I see both your daggers and tongue live up to their sharp reputation. You'll have those cursed Vikings fleeing within a week."
"Let me have at least two, I'll need something to keep me entertained after all."
"Have an affinity for trouble don't you, Lady Jessa? I believe we will get on just fine!" Laughing he threw an arm over her shoulder, "But look at me, keeping you out in this storm drowning like a rat."
Jessa felt Eric reach over and pull her hood over her head, shielding her from the torrent, and met his piercing blue eyes. He smiled at her warmly, and began to lead her into the castle. "Come, let's get you dry and warmed up, and then I can introduce you to your new home."
The fire warmed her fingertips, and with every passing minute Jessa felt the heat thaw her cold skin, relaxing her fatigued body. A pint of spiced ale slammed into the table in front of her, sloshing over the sides violently and onto her clothes. Jessa scowled at the attendant's back as she took a long sip. She had been here barely an hour and already that woman had managed to irk her beyond comprehension.
At first, she thought that the girl was just a poor servant. But after being pricked with needles, fastened into her change of clothes to the point of suffocation, and nearly set on fire, Jessa had come to the conclusion that the servant had it out for her. Normally she would have dealt with the situation by now, but she wasn't in the mood to make a scene her first night here. In all honesty, all she wanted was to go to bed and sleep away the homesickness that was rising up within her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Eric walking into the room. Grinning, he joined her by the fire, leaning over to warm his hands. "I must apologize about your reception, most of Hlathir is asleep and the rest are on guard. But tomorrow! Tomorrow we will have a grand festival to celebrate your arrival."
"It's quite alright, Jarl, I assure you. In fact, after my journey I welcome the chance at some rest."
"I cannot express how grateful I am at your coming, Lady Jessa, especially so soon. Are your men far behind?"
"I'm afraid the Jarl cannot send any reinforcements until after I send my initial report and the treaty has been completed," Jessa fibbed. She was sure that Wulfgar would send men as soon as possible, but seeing as how she accepted the treaty without his consent and the message would most likely just now be making its way to him, it would be awhile before that happened.
Eric nodded, "Understandable. Of course that means I will hope to have the wedding soon, if that is alright?"
"I thought as much and am prepared for it as soon as tomorrow."
The Jarl began to choke on the ale he had just swallowed, pounding on his chest as he spluttered, "T-tomorrow?"
Jessa's answer was interrupted as the servant from earlier dropped the pitcher of ale she had been carrying, ceramic shards shooting across the floor as the liquid seeped into the tapestry-strewn floor. A startled gasp sounded under the veil that covered her face, and within seconds she had fled through the door.
Turning back to Eric, she caught him looking at the door, eyes filled with sadness. "I'm sorry about that, Lady Jessa. It's just very sudden, that's all."
She watched as the playful, energetic man she had first met was replaced with a somber one, and recognized the look that overcame his expressive eyes. "You don't wish to marry me."
"N-no! It is a great honor Lady Jessa-"
"Do not worry about offending me, Jarl Eric. I don't want to marry you either," she stated. Avoiding his confused gaze she stared out the window, watching the storm rage with increasing ferocity.
"Do you know why I accepted your treaty out of all the other marriage proposals? It was because it wasn't a marriage proposal, not at first. It was merely a request for my help. You saw me as a person with her own merit instead of a tool to be traded for politics and the like. I appreciated that.
"As for it being dangerous, well that only interested me more. I know what is right and what is wrong, and I will always fight to protect what I believe in. I believe in your cause and your people, Eric, and I want to help." A streak of lightning suddenly set the sky aflame and she was assaulted with the memory of when Kari did something similar in the pass with Gudrun's men. Jessa gave a sad smile, Kari.
Turning she met his eyes once more, "Let's just say many things about Hlathir appealed to me."
Eric stared at her with growing respect, "I had heard of your strength and heart, Lady Jessa, but I still find myself speechless. What you are risking for my people… We will never be able to repay you.
"I'm sorry our meeting has come with such a heavy price. As you said, neither of us wanted marriage, not like this. However, I do not regret having you here and will do my best to make sure you find happiness in Hlathir. My people and I will definitely benefit from the presence of such an incredible woman. "
Standing up, he walked over to offer her his hand. "It will be an honor to have you by my side Jessa, and be it tomorrow or next month, I will be glad to have you as my wife, if you will have me as your husband."
Jessa glanced into his serious yet smiling eyes, then at the offered hand. With a determined nod she shook it.
"NO!" The shrill cry was accompanied by a crash as another pitcher joined its partner in shattered pieces strewn across the floor. Startled, Jessa dropped Eric's hand just in time to turn and see the servant from earlier fly at her, arms raised.
Battle instincts instantly on guard, she easily caught the hand about to slap her face and twisted it behind the girl's back. Pushing her head down into the table Jessa quickly stepped on her feet to stop her from kicking back. The servant whimpered at the rough treatment, but Jessa didn't relent. As far as she was concerned, the girl had been asking for it all night.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded.
"You don't deserve him," the servant hissed vehemently. "I will not let you marry my Jarl! You don't deserve him!"
Eric tapped Jessa's shoulder gently, motioning that he would handle it. Sighing, he helped the girl into a nearby chair and leaned in closely. "Ingrid, we talked about this. You know how I feel about this, and you heard Lady Jessa's own thoughts-"
"Yes, I heard. I heard her say how she doesn't want to marry you! She will not love you Eric, not like- not like you deserve."
She finished her sentence softly, and as Jessa observed with keen eyes Eric's gentleness towards the servant everything fell into place. The Jarl's sadness at the idea of marrying her, the servant's angry behavior and attempts to get her to leave- it all made sense.
Long wet tracks appeared on the veil the girl wore and Jessa could tell that despite Eric's attempts to soothe her, she was crying. The veil… An idea forming in her head, Jessa joined them at the table. "Tell me, do you always wear that veil?"
Startled out of their private moment, they both looked at her shocked at the seemingly irrelevant question. Finally a soft, melodic voice raspy from tears answered. "Yes. As servants we are often open to others scorn, even when we are not working. The Jarl gave us these veils to wear as a uniform, to shield our faces so that on our days off others would not recognize us and treat us unfairly. We are allowed to move about with the freedom of any other citizen."
"So no one here would recognize your face? Or miss you if you suddenly left your position?"
Eric rose alarmed, "Jessa, I know she might have affronted you, but I must-"
"Calm yourself Jarl, I wish no harm to your servant- Ingrid, was it?" The girl gave a small nod, and seeing that she had both of their attention Jessa continued. "To value the happiness and independence of even your servants, I can tell you are a great man indeed Eric. Unfortunately, I'm afraid Ingrid is correct. I will never love you."
Shaking her head, she gave a bitter laugh. "We were given a sorry lot, weren't we? But just because I am doomed for a loveless marriage doesn't mean you should be. Your girl was right, you deserve more than that. Which is why I cannot marry you."
Ingrid gave a delighted laugh but the Jarl became troubled. "Jessa, I appreciate what you are trying to say but Hlathir is in dire need of the treaty being upheld."
"And it will be," Jessa smirked.
Walking around the table to Ingrid, she gently raised the veil revealing a girl her age with perfectly braided blonde hair, blue eyes, and a confused smile. She placed her own next to hers and looked Eric, "If Hlathir has seen neither Ingrid's or my face, how will they ever know which of us is truly Jessa Horolfsdaughter?"