No Safe Place

TWO

TWO
Ealhunding

The guards had to force me down the aisle, their fingers wrapped harshly above my elbows on either arm as they pulled me forward. I pleaded with them in hushed whispers.
"Let me go. Please, Lucas, you have known me my whole life." I nearly sobbed. It was true. Lucas had been assigned to guard me since I was 2 years old.
           My father sat upon his throne near the altar, his eyes speaking to me. Do not ruin this. It was not a request, it was a threat.
           Northmen were gathered near the front of the crowd, towering over the other men and guards. If they decided to strike, we would not stand a chance even though we outnumbered them.
The man standing in front of the altar must have been the leader, Ragnar. He stood apart from the others, closer to my father. Like his comrades, he was massive. Tall and broad and solid. His size sent a shiver down my spine. It would be too easy for him to kill me if he chose to. Though my father had built some type of trust with the man, I did not share his confidence. Which is why I made sure to slip a small dagger in the waist of my hose.
As the space between us shortened, his features became clearer. He was... stunning. Though his skin was still stained with dirt (and possibly blood), it was a handsome face. I don't know what I had been expecting. The stories I had heard had given me an image of gnarled, monstrous men, the type that would eat children. But this was just a man. Albeit, a giant of a man.
         His eyes swept to mine and I was startled by their brightness. Blue like ice reflecting sunlight. It was a shade unlike any I'd ever seen before. It was fitting considering his stare chilled me to the bone.
         So this was the man I was being given to. The man I was supposed to spend the rest of my god forsaken life with.
           As I reached the altar, I was painfully aware of the tears that streamed down my cheeks. I refused to look at the Pagan and instead I pointed my heated eyes towards my father.
I had never felt the white hot flames of anger as intensely as right then. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to hurt my father. For years I had helped him strategize his battles, train his soldiers, protect the people of Wessex. And yet, he gives me away.
Though I was not looking at him, I felt Ragnar's eyes scanning me from head to toe. Blood rushed to my cheeks in both anger and embarrassment. Behind him, his men snickered and spoke to one another in their native tongue. I could only guess that I was the subject of their jokes.
    Lucas deposited me in my rightful place beside Ragnar and gave my shoulders a stern shove, forcing me to my knees onto the kneeling bench. The bench itself was ornately decorated with white and cream colored flowers. I saw Ragnar look over towards the crowd. Athelstan, the priest who had been staying in our home, nodded as a signal for him to kneel beside me.
    It was only when I grabbed hold of the bench railing that I noticed my hands were shaking. I gripped the railing harder, hoping it would keep Ragnar from noticing. I didn't want him to see me as weak. He needed to see that I was strong, that I was not one he could control. Even if he was my husband.
    My plan didn't work, because once he knelt beside me, his big hand covered mine. I'm not sure if the gesture was meant to be reassuring or cruel, but I ripped my hand away regardless.
    "Do not touch me." I hissed through clenched teeth. For the first time I brought my eyes to meet his, hoping they held all the hatred I felt in my heart for him. The corner of his mouth perked up into a smirk. The bastard found it amusing. I thought about the blade hidden on my person. Would he be so amused when I held it to his throat tonight?
    Yes, I was aware that the room would be filled with other people. Servants to help me undress, my father, the priest, and a monk, all standing by to watch him bed me. What they didn't know is that they would have to hold me down and be complicit in my destruction if they wanted to see this marriage consummated. I would not lie down and let this heathen take my virtue without a fight.
    The priest began the ceremony and I could not stop the sob that coursed through my body.
    "Please father!" the words left my lips before I had even thought them. "This cannot be undone!" He ignored me. They all did.
    Except for Ragnar.
    I saw his head swivel to face me, but I refused to look back at him and could not see his expression. All of these people surrounding us, and not one would save me.
    Not even God.