Page 73 of Merciful Salvation

“How do you know what I did or didn’t do?” Erik jumped up.

Kara felt light headed. She groaned, holding her head between her hands. All this discussion about who and what—but no consideration for her feelings.

“And does my daughter know the true nature of the devil bedding her? What unholy creature might be forming in her womb right now?”

Somehow, Aaron ended up kneeling on the table with his short sword imbedded in the wood between him and Erik. “Say it again and I’ll crush your fucking head.”

“Wait.” Kara ran down the stairs. She couldn’t, wouldn’t let her husband and father destroy each other.

Both men halted, shocked to see her.

“Father,” she bowed, huffed out a breath, then quickly correctedherself and curtsied. “This is the man I love—the manIchose.”

“What do you know of love?” Marteinn asked. “This man seduced you, took advantage of your innocence.”

Tyr slid sideways, grabbing a fistful of Marteinn’s tunic. “Silence.”

Erik’s face softened for a fleeting moment when he saw her. “He’s a Christian—paid to train an army that one day will destroy everything consecrated to Odin. Right now, his men are hunting pagans accused of desecrating holy ground in Nidaros. He cannot be trusted. And I’ll be damned if my only daughter and grandchildren will be raised to tremble before the cross.”

Aaron let out a growl. “You speak of things you do not know.”

Kara walked behind her husband and reached for her father’s hand. “Please,” she pleaded. “Hear him before you rush to judgment the way I did.”

“No,” Erik snarled. He pulled a knife from his weapon belt. “Odin as my witness, I’ll eliminate another enemy of the gods before his false religion takes root in my daughter’s heart.” He raised the dagger.

“Stop,” Tyr shouted. “Ask him before you strike.”

“Ask him what?” Erik paused.

“What god he serves.”

Kara took a deep breath; her future depended on how her husband answered.

“Jarl McNally,” Erik spoke through clenched teeth. “What god do you worship?”

Aaron glanced over his shoulder at his wife. She wanted to wedge herself between them, but didn’t dare interfere. He mouthed three words,I love you, then stared at her father again. He reached inside a pocket on his weapon belt, took out what appeared to be two gold coins, then offered them to Erik. “Proof of my loyalty.”

Erik the Bald gasped as he held them up. “Odin’s gold.” He sounded dismayed. “Where did you get these, outlander?”

“From the priest at the standing stones.”

There were a few faint echoes from the crowd. Some spoke in favor of Aaron, others against.

“After I purged the Christian god from my body, the priest gifted me with these coins and said,Remember Odin’s generosity. You no longer belong to the White Christ. You are a son of Norway now. Someday, when you least expect it, that gold will buy your freedom. This is Odin’s message—Allfather protects his own.”

Erik’s cheeks turned red.

Kara scarcely breathed. But after her father plopped down in his chair, she realized the initial danger was over.

“All this time,” Erik muttered. “You deceived me when you came to my home recruiting for King Olaf.”

“No,” Aaron denied, sliding off the table. “I refuse to use my faith as a weapon for authority. I rely on my reputation as a soldier. Nothing more.”

“Father,” Kara said, approaching. “He is your son now. My husband. Dedicated to Allfather.”

“He’s a Scotsman.”

“No,” Tyr said, “he’s my kinsman, as Norse as any man sitting in this hall.”