6 Ceremony

Bjorn

Servants from the Temple are sent over to dress me for my wedding. The young women wear the simple corset and skirts that are standard in the southern temples. Golden chains on their ankles show their virtue. Marks on their arms and backs indicate that they belong to the temple.

None of them carry the scent of prey.

Even the high priestess seems off. She’s too young. Nor does she carry the scent of a priestess. But the scent of greed surrounds her.

The breast plate that is traditionally black with gold accents, is gold plated. Her skirt ends mid-calf and has a triangle shaped panel of gold chain mail on the front and back. Ermine fur lines the black cloak and that seems so… Saxon.

Magnus scoffs next to me and I know that he can sense that something is off. The new high priestess guides us further into the temple. If she were a true high priestess, she would be able to tell what we are. She tells us about the temple and points out the large windows on the floors above.

“They say that the windows were made large enough for the dragons to fly in,” she smiles at us.

Her smile does not reach her eyes, and she keeps glancing at the scars that we both have. A blind dragon is defenseless, and, in a fight, weaker dragons will go for the eyes. Our scars are from the same young dragon. I still regret having to kill him, but he went after my personal guard and then me.

“I don’t think that she’s ever seen a dragon,” Magnus says quietly.

Smirking, I nod in agreement. “I want to know where the old priestess is.”

“You and me both,” he says as we are motioned into the inner sanctuary.

Stopping in front of the large wooden carving of the Dragon Crest, I feel the real power of the temple for the first time. It pulses around us and I watch the priestess to see if she turns to it. She continues to stand in the same place, looking at us.

The Dragon Cult is not as common here as it is back home. I find myself wondering what they are doing with the money that they collect. There are too many begging for food on the streets. Too many children are searching for warmth as the nights still grow cold.

We saw it during our flight last night. Saw it again as we walked the streets today. As Magnus said, they are not even trying to hide it during our visit.

“How long until my bride arrives?”

“The carriage has been sent for her. She should be here soon.” She looks at the few people that have gathered. They are mainly my warriors that came with us and the local lord and his family. “Will there be others joining us?”

“No.”

Magnus’ hard, clipped answer echoes exactly how I feel. This is not how I wanted to take a bride. The Volva back home had said that I would find a mate in these lands. Having not found one that drew my attention, I took the only one that I had not seen. It was not until after the contract had been signed that we sensed the one bearing a true mark.

She seems a bit surprised at the response and her smile tightens. “Very well, I’m just going to…” her voice trails off as she walks to the back of the temple to do whatever pretend priestesses do behind the temple walls.

“Last chance,” Magnus tells me.

I shake my head, “The contract has been signed. I’m not going to break my word. I will not become known as someone who cannot keep their word.”

Magnus gives me a quick nod.

We’ve stood shoulder to shoulder since I was nine years old. That was when dad brought the orphan home and said that he was now my brother. No one questioned it. Even now, when we arrive in new places like Londinium, people look at us and see brothers.

Here, where dragons are not as common, we stand well above the other men. Even among our own kind, we are a head taller than most. We shave the sides of our heads and braid the long hair on the top of our heads. Tonight, for the ceremony, the servants did intricate braids.

Magnus has five braids that become one braid at the back. Keeping with the holy number of five, I have three large braids and two smaller ones that weave in and out of each other. I can only hope that my bride-to-be also has the traditional five braids. Since temple servants were sent to dress her, I assume that she will.

The main difference between the two of us is that my hair is lighter. Along with his darker hair, Magnus also has slightly darker skin. We both have battle scars around our left eye and assorted other scars that cover our bodies.

We each wear hard leather cuirass with our respective marks on them. When a dragon reaches their prime, a mark appears on their body, both of ours appeared on our upper left arms. Legend says that if a dragon has a mate, they will be marked in the same place. Because of this, we have been accused of being each other’s mates.

The fact that we often share a woman does not help any.

I’m wearing a red tunic as dictated by tradition. Although usually the red indicates the dragon’s willingness to spill blood for their mate. I don’t know this woman, I can only hope that she is a good choice. The only other option right now is one of my two stepsisters.

Bells chime somewhere in the temple and horns are blown to announce the arrival of my bride. Magnus is suddenly overly interested in his blue tunic. Although he is looking down at the hem near his rust-colored pants, I can still see his smirk.

The priestess reappears just before the doors at the far end of the inner temple. The family enters first and is shown where to stand. Five temple attendants walk out next and stand behind the priestess.

Magnus and I both turn towards each other when the bride walks in. Although she's wearing the traditional Dragon Bridal Dress, she has a full length, long sleeve dress underneath. I shrug as Magnus shakes his head.

“What in Thor’s beard is she wearing?” he quietly asks.