Dream of Me/Believe in Me
Abruptly, he shifted his attention to Cymbra. “Were you willing? Did you go to your marriage without duress?”
She hesitated, turning cold inside at the thought of lying to her beloved brother. Yet how could she tell him of the threat Wolf had made? The moment she even hinted at it, swords would clash.
Choosing her words with care, Cymbra said, “There was not a shadow of doubt in my heart but that I wanted this marriage.”
Hawk stared from her to Wolf and back again. His hand tightened on the drinking horn but still he did not raise it to his lips. “How extraordinary. A man you did not know, who had taken you from your home by force. Yet you suddenly decided that he was the one man you wanted to marry?”
Cymbra bought herself a moment before replying by signaling to the servants to begin bringing in the food. Silently, she regretted not having drugged it. At the rate things were going, there would be full-scale war before they finished the first course.
Under the circumstances, there was really only one thing to do. Lowering her eyes, she said softly, “You embarrass me, Hawk. Surely, you don't insist that I explain why I was so eager to wed?” She cast a warm gaze at Wolf, who was sitting directly beside her and who raised an eyebrow at her strategy. A becoming flush suffused her cheeks, never mind that it came not from womanly modesty but from pure fury at stubborn, provoking males.
That, at least, silenced her brother long enough for the food to be served. But he wasn't done yet, far from it.
Wolf had just speared a succulent piece of goose on his knife and was about to carry it to his mouth when Hawk said, “You know in England we have a quaint custom. When a marriage is first considered, there are discussions between the various parties. Next a contract is drawn up to which everyone agrees. Then—and only then—the marriage is blessed by the Church, in the presence of the bride's family. Funny thing is, I thought you Norse did it pretty much the same way.”
Wolf put down his knife and made a small gesture to his brother, who had half-risen from his seat. Dragon subsided but sullenly. He continued to scowl at Hawk.
“As a matter of fact,” Wolf said pleasantly, “we do have a similar custom here.”
Hawk nodded. His jaw was so tightly set that Cymbra feared it might snap. Abruptly, he plunged his eating knife hard into the table and rose. “Then why, Lord of Sciringesheal, did you see fit to ignore the ways of both our people and take my sister by force?”
“I did
not
ignore them. After you rejected my offer of marriage to your sister to form an alliance between us, I—”
“What? What offer? There was never any—”
“You know damn well what offer. You said she'd never wed a filthy Viking savage. In fact, you made it sound as though she had said it, which is why I went to Holyhood intending to punish her for her arrogance and selfishness, only to find that—”
“Punish her?” Hawk roared the words even as he wrenched his dagger out of the table and grasped it purposefully. “My sister? You insufferable bastard. How dare you—”
Wolf too was standing now, dagger in hand. Nor was he alone. Every man at the table was on his feet andarmed. Cymbra smothered a cry. She jumped up, shoved back her chair, and glared at them all in fury.
“Stop it! Stop right now! Obviously there's been a huge misunderstanding, but you are not—
not
—going to make it any better by killing each other!”
In desperation, she looked from her brother to her husband. “You both claim to care for me and want to protect me. How will shedding each other's blood do that? For pity's sake, just talk to each other—and listen!”
When still they remained, glaring at each other, she said, “Sit down, both of you! Or I swear, the next meal you eat will be flavored with emetine.”
The two men exchanged baffled looks. Cautiously, Wolf said, “What does that do?”
“Why nothing, dear husband,” Cymbra replied scathingly, “save cause you to vomit up everything your stomach may hold until such time as you pray it will never hold anything again!”
“Sounds delightful,” Wolf muttered. He sat down.
“May have been a mistake educating you,” Hawk grumbled, but he too resumed his seat. The other men swiftly followed suit.
Cymbra caught Brita's eye and motioned for the drinking horns to be filled again. She was more resolved than ever that the sooner they were all insensible, the
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