more men joined the others restraining him.
The jarl didn’t turn but smirked at the ruckus behind him. “Such soft flesh could make even my old stick hard,” he said.
Nervous laughter filled the hall. Another ferocious growl came from the dais, and Kadlin saw one of the men pull back his fist at the level of Bjorn’s jaw.
“Stop!” she screamed. She leveled her stare at the sneering jarl. “Let us make a wager.”
When the laughter finally died down and the jarl had caught his breath, he shuffled back onto the platform and slumped in his chair with a wheezing cough. “A wager? What do you have in mind, girl?”
Kadlin felt all eyes on her. “I will wager that I can show you treasure such as you have never seen. And if I am correct, I will hand over the treasure, and you will release me and my pony and consider Bjorn’s debt paid.”
The jarl chuckled. “I’ve seen plenty of sweet cunts. I can’t imagine yours is any more of a treasure than the next.”
She waited for the fresh round of laughter to subside. Her voice cut through the last fading sniggers. “Are you afraid to accept my challenge?”
The hall fell silent.
“Afraid? Don’t you see this is a bet you can’t win? No matter what you show me, I can just say I’ve seen better, and you will lose.”
Kadlin glanced at Bjorn, and he shook his head, his eyes pleading with her to stop this madness. She bowed deeply then straightened and pinned the jarl with her stare. “I am also wagering that you are a man of great character, and you will honestly assess what I present.”
The jarl leaned forward. “And when you lose?”
“ If I lose, you will own me and my pony and you can do what you like with him,” she said, nodding to Bjorn.
The jarl clapped his hands, “I accept!”
Bjorn sat slumped forward on riser. It seemed a colossal struggle for him to even raise his eyes to see the wager play out. Kadlin walked to her pony and drew out the long axe. She carefully unwrapped the sheath and carried it to the jarl. She turned the blade in the light to show off the exquisite filigree.
“It is very rare. It comes from the East and can sever a man’s head with a single swipe,” she said.
The old man leaned forward and studied the gleaming etched surface. His shoulders began to shake, and Kadlin wondered if he was having some kind of fit. It wasn’t until he sat back hard in his chair and howled that she realized he was laughing. When he had finally composed himself, he wiped his eyes and gestured to the long wall to his left. Kadlin turned, and he lost himself in laughter again. Hanging from the wall were ornate swords and shields, and at least a dozen long-handled axes identical to the one Kadlin held in her hands.
“Well, my dear, I don’t know who you think you are,” he wheezed, “but I can quite honestly say that I have seen such treasure. Now, why don’t you pull down those trousers and let me have a look at my reward?”
This time the laughter was deafening, and Kadlin had a sudden urge to swing the blade and lop off the braying ass’s head. Instead, she laid the weapon at his feet and waited patiently.
When at last it was quiet, she cleared her throat for attention. She stood and faced people in the hall. “I am Kadlin, daughter of Olav the shipbuilder, granddaughter of Sven the shipbuilder, great-granddaughter of Valdemar the shipbuilder, and great-great-granddaughter of Trygve royal shipbuilder to Queen Kunigunde across the sea, who paid him handsomely.”
Kadlin pulled open the purse hanging from her belt and drew out a soiled cloth. She unwrapped it and lovingly removed the small crown. As she’d done a thousand times since she was a child, she ran her fingers over the smooth gold interior and swept her thumb across the dozens of gems set on the surface. She lifted the coronet over her head for all to see then turned to face the jarl. She held the treasure under his nose and turned it so the light danced off of the
The jarl didn’t turn but smirked at the ruckus behind him. “Such soft flesh could make even my old stick hard,” he said.
Nervous laughter filled the hall. Another ferocious growl came from the dais, and Kadlin saw one of the men pull back his fist at the level of Bjorn’s jaw.
“Stop!” she screamed. She leveled her stare at the sneering jarl. “Let us make a wager.”
When the laughter finally died down and the jarl had caught his breath, he shuffled back onto the platform and slumped in his chair with a wheezing cough. “A wager? What do you have in mind, girl?”
Kadlin felt all eyes on her. “I will wager that I can show you treasure such as you have never seen. And if I am correct, I will hand over the treasure, and you will release me and my pony and consider Bjorn’s debt paid.”
The jarl chuckled. “I’ve seen plenty of sweet cunts. I can’t imagine yours is any more of a treasure than the next.”
She waited for the fresh round of laughter to subside. Her voice cut through the last fading sniggers. “Are you afraid to accept my challenge?”
The hall fell silent.
“Afraid? Don’t you see this is a bet you can’t win? No matter what you show me, I can just say I’ve seen better, and you will lose.”
Kadlin glanced at Bjorn, and he shook his head, his eyes pleading with her to stop this madness. She bowed deeply then straightened and pinned the jarl with her stare. “I am also wagering that you are a man of great character, and you will honestly assess what I present.”
The jarl leaned forward. “And when you lose?”
“ If I lose, you will own me and my pony and you can do what you like with him,” she said, nodding to Bjorn.
The jarl clapped his hands, “I accept!”
Bjorn sat slumped forward on riser. It seemed a colossal struggle for him to even raise his eyes to see the wager play out. Kadlin walked to her pony and drew out the long axe. She carefully unwrapped the sheath and carried it to the jarl. She turned the blade in the light to show off the exquisite filigree.
“It is very rare. It comes from the East and can sever a man’s head with a single swipe,” she said.
The old man leaned forward and studied the gleaming etched surface. His shoulders began to shake, and Kadlin wondered if he was having some kind of fit. It wasn’t until he sat back hard in his chair and howled that she realized he was laughing. When he had finally composed himself, he wiped his eyes and gestured to the long wall to his left. Kadlin turned, and he lost himself in laughter again. Hanging from the wall were ornate swords and shields, and at least a dozen long-handled axes identical to the one Kadlin held in her hands.
“Well, my dear, I don’t know who you think you are,” he wheezed, “but I can quite honestly say that I have seen such treasure. Now, why don’t you pull down those trousers and let me have a look at my reward?”
This time the laughter was deafening, and Kadlin had a sudden urge to swing the blade and lop off the braying ass’s head. Instead, she laid the weapon at his feet and waited patiently.
When at last it was quiet, she cleared her throat for attention. She stood and faced people in the hall. “I am Kadlin, daughter of Olav the shipbuilder, granddaughter of Sven the shipbuilder, great-granddaughter of Valdemar the shipbuilder, and great-great-granddaughter of Trygve royal shipbuilder to Queen Kunigunde across the sea, who paid him handsomely.”
Kadlin pulled open the purse hanging from her belt and drew out a soiled cloth. She unwrapped it and lovingly removed the small crown. As she’d done a thousand times since she was a child, she ran her fingers over the smooth gold interior and swept her thumb across the dozens of gems set on the surface. She lifted the coronet over her head for all to see then turned to face the jarl. She held the treasure under his nose and turned it so the light danced off of the
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