The Cross and the Dragon by Kim Rendfeld

know her sentiment.
    “He is not my betrothed. Not yet,” she added. “I did not take the vow, and the war, thankfully, took him away. And now he has returned.”
    “You ought to be happy,” he said, wondering how far to take this matter. “God has shown His mercy.”
    “God has shown His mercy to a wicked man. There are some who wish that the Lord would…” She bit her lip. “…have called Ganelon to be with Him.”
    Hruodland leaned to whisper in her ear, “So do his men, except they would not expect him to be with God.”
    Alda’s smile suddenly disappeared. Her hand flew to her dragon amulet. Following her wide-eyed stare, Hruodland beheld Ganelon, who wore the look of dog about to fight for a choice bone. Hruodland looked his rival up and down. The same size and experience in battles, they would be equals in a fight. When Hruodland’s gaze slid to Alda, the back of his neck tightened. That son of a whore’s cur would tear her to pieces.
    “Why are you speaking with this man?” Ganelon demanded.
    “This is my house. I can speak to whomever I please.” Alda’s voice was defiant, almost masking the tremor in her voice. Almost.
    “You avoid me but tempt Hruodland,” he said sharply. “Is this the way to treat your betrothed?”
    “I am not your betrothed,” she snapped, stamping her foot.
    “When I have you, I shall tame you,” Ganelon spat.
    “I am not yours to tame,” she cried.
    “Hruodland, I thought you were stronger than this. So brave on the battlefield. To succumb to a mere girl.”
    “Do not attempt to flatter me,” Hruodland said coldly. “Or use false praise. The Lombard who gave me this…” He pushed back the sleeve to show his scar. “…was a skilled warrior. I do not seek out and slay the youth who has barely learned to hold a sword and then boast about it. Nor do I threaten women.”
    Hruodland stepped between Ganelon and Alda and crossed his arms. His dark eyes burned into Ganelon’s. Strike me, Ganelon . I dare you.
    Ganelon looked from Hruodland to Alda and back to Hruodland. He shrank back, muttering, “I will have my claim to her.”
    “We shall see if you will have a claim to her,” Hruodland said to Ganelon. His voice stayed even. He stepped away from Ganelon and put his arm around Alda’s shoulders. “In the meantime, I will protect my friend from harm, no matter what guise it takes.”
     
    * * * * *
     
    To Alda’s relief, the music stopped for a moment, and Theodelinda called the guests to eat. While the guests took their seats, the flutes and zithers again wove joyous melodies. Glad to see Alfihar in his ornate chair at the head of the table, Alda sat next to Hruodland and five seats away from Ganelon. As servants brought in stews, roasts, vegetables, and countless other dishes for the first course, Alda savored the wine and found herself drinking more than usual. She chatted and laughed with Hruodland and ignored Ganelon’s stares. She expected her mother to ask to speak to her alone and berate her for treating Ganelon so poorly.
    But Theodelinda seemed too busy to notice. She was talking and laughing, pleased with the guests’ compliments on the feast. After a while, Alda stopped watching her mother, and it felt like she and Hruodland were the only two people in the world.
    The feast continued with hours of humorous stories and gossip. In the fading daylight, crumbs of bread and cakes littered the table. Alda gave bones and gristle to the servants who took care of the dogs.
    The dowager countess rose from her seat. “My lord king,” she said, “the House of the Dragon would like to present you with gifts.”
    Servants showed the king two casks of wine, incense, a bolt of silk, a bolt of linen, and a large, highly wrought, gold cross.
    “We are grateful,” said the king. “In return, we will present gifts to your house.”
    The king gave Alfihar two cups from which he had drunk, silver candlesticks for the chapel, and a tapestry of the ascension