Leif

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance; Historical Romance; Ancient World Romance; Medieval Romance; Scottish & Highlander; Viking Romance

Synopsis

Fate brought them together. Free will binds them.



After months at sea, Leif Ivarrson wants nothing more than to revel in the comforts of home. Yet when word arrives that a new threat has invaded their land, Leif is forced to take up his sword once more. Tasked with rescuing a jarl's niece, Sigrid, from this malicious enemy, Leif departs on a journey that will alter the course of his fate.



Since she was a young girl, Sigrid Torbensdóttir's visions have been both a blessing and a curse. Now a grown woman and powerful seer, she knew enemies would come for her, eager to exploit her gift. Yet her visions taught her that fate could not be denied or ignored. As she had foreseen it, the heroic Viking would save her and sweep them both up in the raging storm of inescapable destiny.



Drawn together by the will of the gods, Leif and Sigrid battle to save their people from a rival tribe's scramble for power. Will their blossoming love survive the tests of war and family? Can a match created by fate withstand the machinations of man?



Contains mature themes.

Release date: December 11, 2020

Publisher: Oliver Heber Books

Print pages: 260

Sample

Chapter One

 

Leif looked around his chambers within his father’s longhouse and breathed a sigh of relief. He noticed the large fur rugs spread throughout the chamber. His two favorites placed strategically before the fire and the bedside he preferred. He looked at his shield that hung on the wall near the door in a symbolic position but waiting at the ready. The chests that held his clothes and some of his finer acquisitions from voyages near and far sat beside his bed and along the far wall. And in the center was his most favorite possession. His oversized bed was one of the few that could accommodate his long and broad frame. He shook his head at his longing to climb under the pile of furs and on the stuffed mattress that beckoned him. He took in the chair placed before the fire where he longed to sit now with a cup of warm mead. It had been two months since he slept in his own bed, and he looked forward to nothing more than pulling the furs over his head and sleeping until he could no longer ignore his hunger. Alas, he would not be crawling into his bed again for several more hours. A feast awaited him to celebrate his and his crew’s return from their latest expedition to explore the isle of Britannia. He bathed and wore fresh clothes, so he had no excuse for lingering other than a bone weariness that set in during the last storm at sea. He was eager to spend time at home no matter how much he loved sailing. Their last expedition had been profitable with several raids of monasteries that yielded jewels and both silver and gold, but he was ready for respite.

Leif left his chambers and knocked on the door next to his. He heard movement on the other side, but it was only moments before his sister Freya opened her door. She, too, looked tired but clean. A few pieces of jewelry she confiscated from the holy houses that allegedly swore to a life of poverty and deprivation adorned her trim frame.

“That armband suits you well. It compliments your muscles,” Leif smirked and dodged a strike from one of those muscular arms.

Only a year younger than he, his sister was a well-known and feared shieldmaiden. Her lithe form was strong and agile making her a ferocious and competent opponent to any man. Freya’s beauty was stunning, but Leif had taken every opportunity since they were children to tease her about her unusual strength even among the female warriors.

“At least one of us inherited our father’s prowess. Such a shame it wasn’t you.”

Leif laughed as he wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulders and escorted her outside. Once they stepped beyond the door, he dropped his arm before she could shrug it off. He was close to his sister, and he counted her as his closest confidante besides their cousin Bjorn, but he knew of how self-conscious she was about proving herself to everyone in their village. As the daughter of the jarl, her tribe expected her to make a good wife to another jarl, but they also expected her to defend her people. Freya and Leif were their parents’ only surviving children. She strove to be the best inside and outside of the longhouse. Freya worked twice as hard as most so she could master the skills of running a household while also mastering the skills of a fighter. She did not like to look as though her father or brother coddled her even though she adored their protectiveness as much as their confidence in her.

“Are you looking forward to the feast?” Freya asked.

“I am looking forward to my bed more.”

“And who will warm it tonight? Who will catch your eye?”

“Actually, tonight I would prefer to retire alone. I crave sleep more than I crave a woman.”

“That would be a first,” Freya snorted.

“Who do you have your eye on?”

“I, too, look forward to sleeping alone. But nobody expects anything different from me.”

“You’re just more discreet.”

“I just have fewer options.”

Leif shrugged knowing that was the truth. Few men attempted to look at his sister let alone touch her. There had been a few, but Freya saw the wisdom in keeping her attachments short and uncomplicated for one day she would leave to make her home among another village with another jarl. She understood no husband would want a wife who was too knowledgeable about bed sport. For a bride in a political match, there was a stark difference between knowing enough to satisfy her new husband and knowing enough to make him suspicious of her fidelity and loyalty. Leif counted himself lucky in that area since people only expected him to enjoy himself before and after his marriage.

Freya entered the great hall ahead of Leif and moved to her spot at the head table, sitting next to their mother. Leif looked around and waved to several men who hailed him and attempted to place a mead horn into his hand. He drank sparingly as always. It was a rare occasion now when he let himself get so intoxicated that he was not in complete control of his faculties. He learned how dangerous that was as a young man. Too much alcohol led him to bed the wrong woman whose husband did not like to share, and he came close to losing his life for a night he could not even remember. Leif sat to his father’s right with his mother and sister to his father’s left. His cousin Bjorn already sat to his right.

“You came.” Bjorn observed.

“You know, like I do, none of us could miss this. Look at the men. They are enjoying the feast and revelry. We couldn’t disappoint everyone by not appearing.”

“I don’t know how they cannot crave peace and quiet as much as we do after such a long time spent together.”

“I am beginning to think you, Freya, and I are the strange ones.”

“Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to retire early with a willing woman and then lose myself to sleep for a full moon.”

“If that’s the case, no one will fault you for retiring early. You know neither Freya nor I will leave with someone, so we’re stuck here until the end. Even after Mother and Father retire.”

Leif sighed and forced himself not to swipe his hand across his face. He looked around the crowded hall and envied the others their merriment and light heartedness. The voyage was a financial success but with more setbacks than usual. Weather delayed them in both directions and fighting with another band of Norsemen had cost them many men before they even landed in Scotland. Responsibility of captaining the ships lay at the hands of Leif, Bjorn, Freya, and their two other closest friends Tyra and Strian. The five warriors grew up together in the Trondelag and captained their ships after being sent off on expeditions without their fathers. Tyra was the daughter of his father’s cousin, and Strian was the son of his father’s previous warrior captain.

Leif looked around and found Tyra and Strian sitting with their families at the table closest to the jarl’s. They looked as exhausted as he did, but they both seemed to enjoy the festivities. They had the responsibility of their own ships and men, but the overall expedition rested on his shoulders and he only shared the burden with Freya and Bjorn.

“You need a woman between your sheets and between your legs,” Bjorn teased.

“That may well be, but I need sleep far more.”

“Old man. You must work out your cock to keep it in shape or it’ll shrivel up like an old man’s sword arm.”

“If that were the case, your cock should be the strongest in the village. Yet that isn’t what I hear from many of the women.”

Leif laughed as Bjorn looked ready to smash in his teeth.

“Perhaps they only say that to make you feel better.”

Leif laughed even harder, but it was cut short when the door to the hall swung open and a contingent of warriors, who did not belong to his father, strode in. Leif recognized Rangvald Thorsson as the bear of a man who led the pack. They approached, and his father stood when their unexpected guests arrived at the head table.

“What brings you here, Rangvald? It’s good to see you, old friend, but we were not expecting you,” boomed Ivar Sorenson.

Leif glanced at his father to see if he might determine his real reaction to the neighboring jarl’s arrival. His father seemed relaxed for once, unlike his usual tense and wary disposition.

“Would that I brought good news and a desire to make merry as I see your people are now.”

Leif noticed the blood splatter and mud that crusted Rangvald’s boots and the bottom of his leather trousers. Ivar nodded and laid his hand on Leif’s shoulder.

“Perhaps we should retire to my chambers for this conversation,” Ivar suggested.

Leif rose to follow his father along with Bjorn. His father shook his head as Freya moved to join them. Anger then resignation flashed in her eyes.

“It’s not like that, Daughter. I need you to watch his men. See how they behave, their mood and report back. They won’t suspect anything if it’s you who mingles rather than your brother.” Ivar murmured for only their ears.

Freya nodded and looked mollified even if Leif knew she was still not pleased about being excluded. He looked over his shoulder to see his sister move toward the men with a mead pitcher. Her graceful movements and beauty caught their attention, and Leif wanted to stay behind to protect her.

“Strian will watch her,” Bjorn reminded him.

Ensconced in his father’s war room, the men wasted no time in discussing Rangvald’s arrival.

“Hakin Hakinsson has been testing our borders again. We caught some of his men on both your land and mine. They’ve been menacing the shepherds and stealing livestock. It’s more than just a war band attempting to harass us. He means to invade our lands. His reach does not match his ambition, but he thinks it does. Hakin would end the truce and take his chances against both of us. He believes we will not seek one another’s support.”

“He believes the old rumors we harbor rancor for one another after I didn’t marry your sister.” It was a statement not a question. It was well-known in the Trondelag that Ivar’s father betrothed him to Rangvald’s sister, Inga, from childhood. They even attempted a trial marriage but were ill suited to each other, and Ivar was already in love with Leif’s mother, Lena. Inga, tired of living as a second-place choice, returned home within a moon. Rumors spread that Rangvald held a grudge, but it was not the case. Rangvald had tried to convince his father not to send Inga as Lena was no secret to anyone. However, Rangvald and Ivar allowed the rumors to continue as it served a purpose. It allowed them to each collect information from other jarls and villages that otherwise would not share if it was common knowledge they were allies.

Now, Ivar looked at Rangvald and stroked his beard, twirling the beaded ends between his fingers. He studied the man and took in the same blood and mud that Leif noticed.

“You would have us make our alliance public.”

“I see no other way. If we fight on our own, we waste time and resources. Hakin won’t fight on two fronts. He will attack one of us and then move to the other. We have a choice. We can either meet him as a unified army or one of us faces him head on while the other attacks from the rear, trapping them in the middle. Either way, we won’t fare well if we try to go it alone. We can win, of that I am sure, but losing men and resources is unnecessary if we fight together.”

“I would have to say I agree. How many men can you bring? I have about two hundred here I can send and still keep a hundred to protect the village.”

“I have the same.”

“And Hakin?”

“He would match us. He didn’t leave as many men at home.”

“Father, why not lead Hakin to our land, but rather than meet him, we go to his home and attack there?” Leif interrupted. “We wipe out his home, his food stores, his people, and then he won’t have the means to fight us. We then trap him between our armies. Without a place to retreat and no means to move forward, we can end this once and for all.”

“And what of our people? Do they face him while we make our way to his home? Why not go to his home after we defeat him?”

“Evacuate our people and lead him to an isolated area. We cannot guarantee how many men we’ll have after the battle. We use our full force now to leave nothing for him to return to in case he is victorious.”

Ivar and Rangvald exchanged a look before Ivar nodded his head. “And just where would you have us lead him?”

“We push him back into the mountain pass near Stjordal. We can trap him there.”

Rangvald held up his hand to interrupt father and son as they negotiated. “Your son is right. If he travels further south than Stjordal, he will reach our main settlements in Maere and Egge. We would do well to stop him now. If we send men with longboats north, we can attack his home while he is away. Then those men will attack from the rear.”

“And whose men would that be?” Ivar asked.

“Does it matter?” Rangvald replied.

“No. But we can load the fresh supplies here into our boats. You don’t have many, I am sure, after your journey here. I will send Leif with the others to Steinkjer, and once the settlement is nothing but ash, he will meet us near Stjordal. How long do you think we have?”

“A week maybe. That would be at the most. I don’t believe he knows I sailed here,” Rangvald explained. “I must return to my home and prepare my people.”

“Leif returned only this morning. Their boats need repairing tonight and into the early morning. The men need a night’s sleep rather than a night of feasting. I don’t look forward to disappointing them, but there is no other choice if they’re to prepare for sailing in the morning.” Ivar looked at his son and nephew. “Gather Freya, Strian, and Tyra. We must plan.”

Ivar and Rangvald moved back to the main hall to announce the change in plans while Leif and Bjorn signaled for the others to join them. Leif watched as Bjorn’s face grew red and a scowl deeper than usual settled between his brows. Leif followed Bjorn’s gaze but could find nothing unusual. Freya and Tyra were among Rangvald’s men. Freya stood behind one as she poured mead, and Tyra sat on one man’s lap and seemed to be listening intently to his tale.

“What’s the matter?”

“Where is Strian? He’s supposed to be watching Tyra and Freya?”

“He is. Look to the left of the room. He is watching them and everything that goes on around them.”

“But he isn’t close enough if one of those men decides he’d like to explore.”

“Bjorn, no man would touch Freya. Everyone knows she is the jarl’s daughter, and I doubt any man is foolish enough to think they could take from Tyra anything she doesn’t offer. She’s likely to cut off their hand before asking questions.”

Bjorn grunted, but his face relaxed. Leif signaled for the other three to join him and Bjorn. They moved back into the jarl’s war room to discuss the new developments.

“What did you learn?” Leif asked his sister.

“Hakin is making moves toward the border of our lands. He’s already been spotted stealing livestock. He’s even set a few fields ablaze after stealing from the harvest.”

“Rangvald’s men are eager for the fight. Their blood is up, and they believe they can already smell victory.” Tyra added.

Bjorn worked his jaw and forced himself not to snap at Tyra’s recklessness if she knew the men were already excitable. Tyra’s parents died in a fire when the group was still young. He, Leif, and Strian had sworn a blood oath to protect her as though she was their own sister. She lived with an aunt and uncle along with their children, but Bjorn still felt compelled to keep a close eye on her.

“They are eager to fight and believe this should be an easy win,” Tyra continued.

“It is a foolish man who goes into battle assuming he will win,” Strian commented. “Those aren’t the men I want to depend upon.”

“I agree, but the alliance stands, and it will serve us well. Father has agreed that we should attack Hakin’s holding while he is away. Burn it to the ground if we can. Then we join Rangvald but from the rear. We will trap Hakin between our armies near Stjordal,” Leif explained.

“You would push him inland away from his boats, and ours, and then box him into one of the mountain passes.” Freya nodded her head. “We must sail to Steinkjer if this is the goal. I assume we will leave in the morning. If time wasn’t a concern, Rangvald wouldn’t have come. He would have sent a messenger instead. He came in person to convey the urgency.”

“You’re right. He believes there’s less than a week until Hakin will be close enough to engage. We need to evacuate our people to the coast in case Hakin breaks free, but we’ll leave a hundred men behind and two long boats in case they must escape. We sail at first light,” Bjorn shared.

“Will our boats be ready in time? Mine took serious damage during the last storm. The entire hull needs refitting but there are several patches needed at least.” Strian looked doubtful.

“Mine too, Strian. The shipbuilders will work all night to ensure we’re ready. We need to oversee the loading of supplies and prepare the men for the journey,” Bjorn answered.

“I don’t envy you being there when the men learn their feasting is over,” Freya linked arms with Tyra and skirted the large table that held maps and other scrolls. “We have our own ships to tend to.”

“Sister—” but it did no good. Freya and Tyra were already through the doorway. Leif bit back a curse, but he appreciated his sister’s wisdom to have the two women away from the men when their father shared the news that none would retire for their own private feast.

“Perhaps my father will have already told them.”

Afraid to tell the men that if they haven’t already swyved a woman, they’re out of luck now?” Strian inquired.

“Afraid? No. Dreading it? Yes.”

Strian clapped Leif on the back with a chuckle. “The joys of being a jarl.”

Leif just nodded.

 

Chapter Two

 

The entire settlement worked throughout the night to prepare for the warriors’ departure. There was little sleep for anyone. Just before dawn, the sailors were all sent to their homes for a few hours of rest. None of the captains wanted disaster to strike from a crew too tired to man their places.

Leif dragged himself from his bed after far too little time under his furs. Once again, he glanced around his chamber and longed for time to sleep.

I shall sleep when I am dead, I suppose.

It was little consolation, but he would have to make do. He gathered his belongings and waited for his sister to emerge from her chambers. She carried even less than he did. He always marveled at how she traveled with less than any man he knew but still had clean clothes. It was as though her sack was bottomless, yet it was smaller than his.

“I could have done with another day of sleep,” she grumbled. “I should like to run Hakin through myself for stealing my time of rest.”

“Only if I don’t get to him first.”

They arrived at the docks as the village gathered to send off the men and women who would defend their land. Leif and Freya hugged their mother goodbye while their father embraced Freya and clapped Leif on the back. Warriors were already boarding boats, and sailors stowed supplies in the holds along with several horses. Rangvald’s men were busy preparing their own ships for departure.

“Who’s that?” Tyra asked as she joined her fellow captains and jarl. She pointed to a longboat that was just appearing around a bend in the fjord.

Freya shielded her eyes and squinted to make out the sails. “Looks to be another of Rangvald’s ships.”

“Rangvald!” Ivar called to his fellow jarl. “You seem to have visitors.”

Rangvald and his other captains joined them. “That is Erik’s ship. He’s supposed to be guarding the homestead.”

“I wondered where your son was.”

“He had not returned from his last fishing voyage before we left. I gave instructions he was to remain at home in my place. Something must have brought him here.”

Crews continued to ready the boats while Rangvald, Ivar, and the others waited for the new boat to dock.

“Erik Rangvaldson, we did not expect you,” Ivar boomed when a large blond man came into view at the bow.

“I look for my father,” an equally deep voice replied. “I see I have found him.” The man jumped from the ship before it docked and waded to shore.

“Son, you’re supposed to be at home.”

“Sigrid’s been taken, “Erik stated in place of a greeting.

“What? How?”

“She was in the woods collecting plants and casting runes to prepare us for the coming battle when a band of men rode off with her. One of the shepherd boys saw it happen and ran back to the village. I didn’t arrive until the next day. Men were already out scouting, but they lost the trail when rain washed away any markers. All they knew was the men were taking her north.”

“Back to Steinkjer. Why not to Hakin himself?” Freya asked as she sized up the man before her.

Erik returned her frank assessment with clear appreciation before turning back to his father. “We don’t think he stole her, so she could assist him but to keep her from assisting us.”

“She is your seer?”

“Yes, and my niece. Sigrid Torbensdóttir,” Rangvald answered.

“Why did you sail here and not after her?” Freya questioned Erik.

“Freya!” Leif growled.

“It is a reasonable question. If she is of value to Rangvald’s people, why not follow her to her obvious destination? Coming here only wastes time.”

“Freya, enough,” Ivar interjected.

“It is fine. She is right to ask such questions. I didn’t have the men to follow her, and as you can see, my longboat’s meant for fishing not for war. My war ship is here, captained by my first mate. When I left with a few men to fish, I didn’t expect to need to rescue my cousin. If I sailed north with this boat, the chances of success would be slim. This boat wouldn’t withstand the water near Steinkjer. You can see that. We would lose both Sigrid and my men.”

Freya looked over his shoulder before looking at him and nodding. A faint smile graced Erik’s lips at her approval before he turned serious and addressed his father.

“I would have my ship back and send Harold with the fishing boat back to guard the village. I will go for Sigrid now.”

“That makes little sense. We plan to sail for Steinkjer ourselves. We will recover your seer and destroy Hakin’s holding,” Leif looked to Ivar and Rangvald.

“He is right, Ivar. While I would rather have my son fetch her, it’s not a good use of our men to send him along with your fighters. I need Erik and his men alongside me when we face Hakin head on.”

“I believe you have much to catch me up on, Father.”

“You are right. You shall sail back with me as I share our plans.” Rangvald wrapped his thick arm around his son’s shoulders and pulled him in for a quick embrace before both men turned toward their boats, but not before Erik cast Freya another grin. She returned it before scowling. They could hear Erik’s laugh as the two men walked away.

“Don’t,” Freya hissed to Tyra who only shrugged and smiled. The two women moved toward their boats, leaving the men to stare after them.

“Keep an eye on your sister and Rangvald’s son. “Ivar muttered before he and Lena left the three remaining captains to board their ships. Leif oversaw the final preparations for their ships. Rangvald and his crew set sail and awaited their turn to launch. Ivar approached, waving his son over. “Leif, I would have one more word with you.”

Something in his voice made Leif wary and a prickle of warning ran down his back. He looked at the man he admired above all others but did not resemble in the least. While Freya was a near replica of their mother, Leif bore a resemblance to his mother but not his father. His father’s copper hair stood out along with his barrel chest and booming voice. Leif’s sun-bleached hair was white in summer, and his broad back tapered to a narrow vee at his hips. The two looked so little alike that rumors circulated for years about his parentage, but anyone who met the two realized that nature had a wicked sense of humor. Mannerisms he could never have learned made it clear Leif was his father’s son. As a babe, Leif’s temper and scowls matched his father’s when he was hungry or overtired. Ivar’s men noticed that when sleeping under the stars, both slept in the same position with one leg bent and the other crossed over it at the ankle. They walked and sat the same way, shared a sharp wit, and turnips made them both violently ill.

“Yes, Father.”

“This seer, Sigrid, is known to be shy but a great beauty. You are to bring her to her uncle. Untouched.” Ivar gave him a pointed look. “I haven’t arranged a marriage for you, but we’re already allied with Rangvald, so we don’t need a marriage to his people. I haven’t forced the issue, but I believe I will make inquiries when you return. You and your sister both are long overdue to find mates rather than bedwarmers.”

“Father, why the warning? You have never before issued such.”

“You will understand when you meet the woman. She isn’t yours to have. Complete the mission then join us with Rangvald. I shall travel overland to meet his army. I would see for myself the damage Hakin has caused.”

“Father--”

“Enough,” Ivar barked loudly enough for others to turn their head.

Leif straightened to his full height as he scanned those who watched them. “As you wish. But know that I will not wed an unwilling bride nor one I cannot like.”

“Fair enough. I wed your mother because I have loved her since we were children. I would wish the same for you.”

“And if it isn’t with a bride of your choosing?”

“We shall solve that problem if it should arise. May the gods be with you.”

“For Odin.”

“For Odin.”

The two men embraced again before Leif boarded his ship. As the five longboats pulled away from the docks, Leif thought over what his father said. He did not understand why his father warned him away from this woman, but his father’s comments gave him a moment of pause when he remembered that the seer, Sigrid, was shy. Leif looked to the ships that followed him and saw Freya’s white-blonde head moving about her ship and then Tyra’s darker one at the helm of her own boat. He thanked Odin for sending the two women along with him. Leif suspected they would be of great help in convincing the young woman to come along with strangers.

The two-day voyage north was smooth with wind at their backs the entire way. They found a narrow fjord to drop anchor just south of Hakin’s settlement at Steinkjer. They continued on foot as they approached the large village. There was clear prosperity and a comfortable lifestyle. There were also few guards left behind. Hakin assumed no one would dare attack him. His assumptions would be his downfall.

“We wait until nightfall when we can encircle the village. Tyra and Freya, your crews will round up the women and children. Bring them outside the walls and away from where we’ll set the fires. Strian, you and Bjorn will move to the longhouses while I find the armory. Take any able-bodied man willing to surrender. We will divide the thralls among all of our boats to keep them from banding together.”

“You would leave the women and children here? Alone?”

“Freya, we do not wage war against women and children.”

“Did I ever say we should? You arrogant arse. You are the one who would by leaving them with no protection or means to hunt and farm. Your war would be one of starvation. They come on my ship as my thralls.”

“Father didn’t say we’re to bring anyone other than the seer back.”

“Then you will be the one who kills them and gives them mercy.”

“Mercy?”

Mercy was a foreign idea to most Vikings. Death in battle was the finest form of glory for a warrior, but mercy was a sign of weakness. Freya knew this just like the others, and she backed her brother into a corner.

“Freya, you push the bounds of brotherly love and patience.”

“That may be, but would you rather have me starve than live the life of one of our thralls if I were in their situation?”

“And you question me about mercy?”

“This is not mercy. It is practical. We can always use more servants and farm workers. Our people continue to multiply, and this means we have need of more workers to support our farms and households.”

Brother and sister exchanged a hard look while the others waited. They were used to these standoffs, and as often as Leif won, Freya won twice as often.

“They are your problem then. You must get them to your ship and deal with them until we return home. Tyra’s ship will take the male thralls and already is near bursting with supplies.”

“I would expect nothing else.”

“It is a good thing she’s your sister and not your wife. You’d never have use of your own balls again if she were.” Strian laughed.

“It’s just as well she fights like a berserker and has a mind more cunning than any man we know.”

“Where do you think they have her held?” Bjorn brought them back to the task at hand.

“With Hakin not here, I would imagine in the kitchens,” Freya answered.

“Then Strian and I will find her and bring her back to the meeting point,” Bjorn suggested.

“Remember, she’s shy. Don’t scare the shite out of her.” Freya warned.

The group disbanded as each captain found his or her crew and moved into position. Just after dusk, they launched their attack. With few to defend the settlement, the battle was over before it began. They rounded up the surviving men, women, and children, but there was one person missing. No one could find the seer.

“Where in Odin’s name could she be? She wasn’t in a longhouse, the armory, or in other storage buildings.” Strian wiped blood from his sword as he looked around. Leif shook his head and wiped sweat from his forehead before another drop could sting his eyes.

Tyra stepped away from the group and stared into the tree line. She thought she saw a faint light bobbing in the distance. She took off at a run, calling back over her shoulder, “I know where she is, but she won’t be there long. At least, not alive.”

Nothing more was said when the others spotted the same light she had. The men overtook Tyra and Freya, but they were not far behind. They entered the woods just in time to see a man in a dark robe rear his arm back in preparation to draw his knife blade across a young woman’s throat. Someone had stretched the woman across an altar naked. She held so still the slender figure was difficult to discern in the dark. Freya pulled her bow from her shoulder and nocked an arrow as she drew back the string. The arrow flew with pinpoint accuracy and buried itself between the man’s shoulders.

Leif moved forward, but Tyra blocked him. “No. Let me and Freya go first.”

Leif tried to step around her, but Tyra would not budge. The woman was not as muscularly built as his sister, but it was to her advantage. Men always underestimated her strength, and she capitalized on that along with her agility to gain the upper hand as she did now. Tyra pushed her weight into Leif’s chest and nearly unbalanced him. “I’m sure she’s terrified. The woman does not need three blood-soaked giants surrounding her when she is naked and tied to an altar. Stay here.”

Leif looked down at her as Bjorn and Strian came to stand beside him.

“She’s right,” Strian whispered. “Let the woman have her dignity. Let Freya and Tyra release her and cover her up before she meets us. There is no doubt she has seen us already.”

Leif and Bjorn nodded. Freya and Tyra crept to the altar and found a beaten woman. Freya slipped the leather vest off her shoulders leaving a linen tunic underneath. Tyra cut a large swath from the bottom of her own tunic. Freya and Tyra worked to cut the woman’s bindings and to help her off the altar. Her legs gave out, but Freya and Tyra caught her before she could collapse.

“Take my vest and use the fabric from Tyra’s tunic to wrap yourself in a skirt. It will be enough to cover you until we can get you back to our ships.”

The young woman did not need to be told twice as she cast looks toward the three hulking forms that watched them. It was too dark for her to make out their faces, so she knew she had a modicum of privacy as she put on the improvised clothing.

“Who are you? How did you know I was here?”

“I am Freya Ivarsdóttir, and this is Tyra Sveinsdóttir. Your jarl, Rangvald Thorsson, sent us to find you while we attacked Hakin’s home.”

“You’re a jarl’s daughter?” She wobbled as she attempted a bow, but her legs still were not steady enough.

“Yes. My brother, our cousin, and friends led the raid.” Freya gestured with her head to the men who stood behind her. “We can explain once we are aboard my boat. We cannot linger any longer.”

Leif’s patience was finished. He watched as the younger woman tottered, looking close to collapsing twice. He marched forward once he saw the women were only talking.

“Can you not natter later? We must be on our way.” Leif drew up short when the young woman’s face came into view from the torches near the altar. He sucked in a breath as he took in her tousled hair and battered face.

“Who did this?” He seethed. She gasped as she looked at Leif for the first time. She shook her head and tried to back up.

“You,” she whispered. “It’s you.”

“Do you know me?” The woman’s reaction perplexed Leif. “Have we already met?”

She shook her head again, but her eyes were large in her sallow and tired face.

“He is dead.”

“Who is?”

“You asked who beat me. The man is dead,” she pointed to the ground, “one of you put an arrow in his back.”

“Then we must be on our way.”

Leif turned away but heard the gasp and then the scuffle as Freya and Tyra caught the woman when her knees refused to bear her weight anymore. Leif stepped forward and swept her into his arms. He felt her go rigid for a moment before she looked into his stormy gray eyes. Something passed between them before she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her own misty silver eyes. Leif caught a wisp of floral scent from her blonde hair that rested against his shoulder. His heart sped up and heat rushed to his groin. The feel of her in his arms was better than any other woman had ever felt. He had barely touched her. She sighed but kept her eyes closed.

“You came.”

“Did you know I was supposed to?”

“Yes.” Her eyes flew open, and she attempted to sit up but almost fell out of Leif’s arms. “My staff. I cannot leave without it. I must have it.”

“You are the seer then.”

“Yes.” Sigrid continued to wriggle to get down. Her bottom brushed across the head of his already hard length, and he bit back a groan as he shifted her higher against his chest. “We shall bring your staff. We won’t leave it behind.”

His words mollified her. She nodded as she watched him before closing her eyes once again.

“How’d you know someone would come?” Leif asked.

“Not someone. You.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rangvald would have sent someone, most likely my cousin, but I knew I would meet you soon.”

“How could you know that?” Leif wondered. Sigrid gave a wry laugh and raised one eyebrow even though both of her eyes remained closed. “You saw us meeting.”

“I have.”

“Have not had? You’ve seen it more than once?”

They reached the larger group of warriors and captives before they could say more.

“I’m Sigrid,” she whispered to Leif.

“I know. I am Leif,” he whispered back.

“I know.” Her smile made Leif’s heart skip. “Perhaps you should put me down now.”

Leif shook his head, but at her confused look, he explained aloud to everyone, “This woman, Sigrid, is the woman we searched for. She is Rangvald Thorsson’s seer and is under my protection.” Sigrid stared up at him. He had all but declared her his woman. He explained, “The men’s lust will still run hot after the battle even if it was short and not very hard. I would have none of them think you are available to them. You are under my protection until we can return you to your jarl.”

“Perhaps you could put me down now, so I look more like the seer I am and less like the concubine they now think I am,” Sigrid stated abruptly.

“What? No.” Leif looked around and saw the smirks from the men and the knowing looks from the women. He saw jealousy flash in the eyes of both men and women. He was not sure if his announcement had provided her the protection he intended.

“Leif, she will travel with me. You may have intended well, but she is right. They will think you have claimed her for yourself to warm your bed. Father will be furious if such rumors reach him. I heard him before we left.” Freya said no more, but her meaning was clear to Leif. She was not warning him away from Sigrid as much as she was warning him of their father.

He nodded and watched as Freya escorted her guest aboard ship. As she reached the top of the rope ladder, she looked over her shoulder at Leif and nodded once.

“I heard you tell my brother you knew he would come. That you saw the two of you meeting.” Freya didn’t mince words.

“You have superb ears.”

“For my brother’s protection, I have the best.”

“You believe he is the one in need of protection?”

“You are a seer. You cast runes to learn of our fates. You commune with the spirits in their world.”

“Does that make me a danger?”

“It could.” Freya crossed her arms as she examined the woman in the light from the torches hung on the mast’s pegs. “You have the power to alter his fate.”

“I do not. I may be a seer, but I cannot alter what the gods already have planned for us. I might see parts of that fate, and I may ask the gods to change their plans, but I am not the one to make those decisions. I’m not one of them, but a woman just as you are.”

Freya looked long and hard at Sigrid. They were close in age. “How old are you?”

“I am two and twenty. My mother trained me from when I was a young girl, but I have been on my own for close to half my life. You?”

“Four and twenty. My brother is a year older. You are Rangvald’s niece, so how could you be alone?”

“My mother was his sister, but she chose a cottage away from the village. She preferred us to have our space, so we might work in peace. There are those who believe we’re little more than practitioners of the dark arts. They may look to us in times of fortune and celebrate our gifts, but when the fates no longer smile upon them, they force us to shoulder the blame for the unpredictability of our gods.”

“Your uncle didn’t lend you his protection?”

“Of course, he did, but my mother still preferred to stay away. Out of sight, out of mind. I followed her lead once she was gone.”

“That didn’t serve you well this time. They still stole you away.” A look crossed Sigrid’s face that made Freya squint as she stepped closer. “What are you not saying?”

Sigrid did not respond. Freya leaned so far forward that their noses almost touched, but Sigrid did not flinch. She remained tight lipped and kept looking Freya in the eye. She had seen more than enough in her lifetime, even in the past week, to not be cowed by anyone.

“I suggest you explain yourself because I hold little trust or patience for those who I believe are lying.”

“I have said nothing false.”

“No, you may not have. But your omissions are lies of their own.”

“What you believe to be omissions, I believe to be keeping my own council. We don’t know each other. We would be fools to trust each other completely.”

“You seemed to trust my brother completely and rather easily.”

“So it seemed.”

The two women stared at one another not making any headway until one of Freya’s men came to her about setting their course. “This isn’t nearly done.”

“I didn’t suspect it was.”

“Freund! Find our guest food and a blanket,” Freya called out to a boy of ten or twelve who scurried to follow his captain’s orders.

Sigrid moved to the rail. She looked out over the waves as they sailed from the fjord into open water. She let the wind sweep over her and lift the hair from her warm face. She wrapped the blanket given to her around her shoulders as she watched a school of fish swim alongside the boat just under the surface, illuminated by the lanterns scattered about the deck. Sigrid breathed in the crisp and tangy saltwater air and let her eyes slide shut. Her mind summoned the sight of Leif but not as she had seen him that night.

Sigrid saw various versions from over the years. She saw Leif on the eve of his first battle when he was not much older than the boy, Freund. She saw him at a feast to celebrate the All Father during a fall harvest. His image in battle always disconcerted her the most. A blend of emotions that ranged from awe to fear to pride to relief surged through her during these visions of violence. All her mind’s conjuring left her unsettled and in need of solitude that would be unavailable for the indefinite future. She watched the horizon despite the darkness, anchoring herself against the rolling of the boat. She sighed at last and moved away to find a spot out of the wind next to several large barrels. Sigrid pulled the blanket around herself once again with her staff tucked into the crook of her crossed arms. Sleep, something that had been elusive and dangerous for the last two days, claimed her.

 

Chapter Three

The sun rose over the same horizon Sigrid gazed at in the dark when her eyes cracked open. She rubbed the sleep from them as she straightened her aching back and stretched her stiff limbs. She came to her feet and scanned the area around her. Sigrid saw land to the port side and a hazy mass to the starboard. She watched as the crew rowed hard now that they faced a headwind. Sigrid heard Freya calling orders as she stood at the helm. Freya looked like a goddess with her white-blonde hair braided with beads woven through them and dangling from the ends. Sigrid could see the sword strapped to her back and the knives that poked from her belt. She glanced at Freya’s boots, sure that she saw at least two in each shoe. The woman wore more weapons than any man Sigrid ever met. Even her cousin, Erik, wore fewer, and he was the captain of his father’s warriors. Freya must have sensed someone watching her because she locked gazes with Sigrid and offered her a small smile with a nod of her head.

It would seem we have come to a truce. We shall see how long it lasts. I would rather be with her than against her.

Freya spoke in hushed tones to a man Sigrid saw the night before and handed the wheel over to him before making her way toward Sigrid. She walked with the easy gait of someone who spent as much time on the water as on land. Her hips rolled as her knees remained soft. She looked to glide along the boards of the deck.

“Did you sleep well enough?”

“I did, thank you. It has been several days since I let myself close my eyes for more than a moment at a time. I suppose I needed the rest.”

“You didn’t mention how you came to be tied to the altar.”

“No, I didn’t.” Sigrid watched Freya with caution. She saw Freya in her visions almost as often as she saw Leif. The woman was admirable in her dedication to her family and tribe. Sigrid had seen her serving in her parents’ longhouse as many times as in battle. She had said more than one prayer to ask the gods to watch over the young woman. So far fate had been on both of their sides. She also knew Freya trusted few and liked even fewer. Devotion to her family ran deep, and she would react to any threat to them. Real or perceived.

“Five men came to my small hut while my uncle Rangvald was on his way to your settlement. Erik hadn’t returned yet from his fishing voyage. The men surrounded me in the woods. We traveled over land and took a small skiff the last part of the way. Hakin’s homestead was vacant, as you saw, but their own seer was there. He is the one you killed. They didn’t want me for any other reason than to keep me from aiding Rangvald or your army. He was prepared to kill me on the chance I might offer you guidance in battle that would turn the tide away from Hakin.”

“And you didn’t fight back? You let them take you?”

“I may not be a shieldmaiden like you are, but make no mistake, I wasn’t going anywhere I did not need to go.”

“Need to go?”

“I went with the men because the fates decided I should go to Hakin’s home. To see and hear that which no one thought I’d be able to share. The gods intended for your brother to come to my aid, and I knew you would be with him.”

“Why would the fates tell you such a thing?”

“Do you recall two winters ago when you were on the Orkney isles? You faced another band of Norsemen who didn’t care for your arrival. It was a vicious battle that left you with a practically severed arm and a punctured lung.”

Freya went rigid, and Sigrid felt the rage flowing from her. “How could you have known that? We remained there for a moon longer than planned because of my injuries. We were almost trapped for the winter because I was too weak to move.”

“And your brother refused to give you up.”

“I begged him to end it then and there. To let me die rather than linger on. It’s clear he refused.” Freya glared at her. “How could you know that? Only Leif, Tyra, Bjorn, and Strian know just how injured I was. We kept it from the men and said I was fevered. Then we claimed we needed to collect more supplies before we could leave.”

“First, credit your men with more sense and loyalty. They all knew how injured you were. They never argued and agreed with Leif’s demand you all remain there. Did you never wonder why not one man ever complained? Not a one of them grumbled about not going home or moving on for more treasures? Second, I saw it all. I’ve seen every battle Leif, and thus you, have fought since his first. Your first battle came two years after his despite how you argued and persisted that your father should allow you to join Leif, Bjorn, and Strian sooner. You would have died had you joined Leif on that ill-fated first voyage. He still bares scars he’s shown no one. Scars no one but he can see.”

“You’ve seen all of that? The runes showed you our fate?”

“They did that more than once, but it wasn’t the runes that let me watch you and your brother as if I was with you.”

“Divinations? Spirit walking?” Freya wondered. Sigrid nodded as she looked about to make sure no one was listening too intently to their conversation. She trusted Freya and Leif, but she knew better than to trust anyone else. She already knew. Tyra, Bjorn, and Strian did not hold the same faith in seers as Freya and Leif did. “You fear how others will react if they learn of your gift.”

“Gift. Curse. Depends on the day.”

“What did you learn while a captive at Hakin’s?”

Sigrid opened her mouth but bit her lip. “I don’t wish to keep anything from you, Freya. I haven’t any reason to. What I have to say, I must do before Leif too. You both must know together before the others can. I must tell you before Tyra, Bjorn, and Strian learn of it. Freya, it isn’t good.”

The two women looked at one another and an understanding passed between them. Freya was not sure what to make of Sigrid’s story. Humility forced her to admit there was much of life and the world she did not understand. There was much the gods never meant the average person to know. It was such knowledge they gifted seers with, and in this moment, looking at Sigrid, she did not envy her.

“Fine. You must be hungry and in need of relief. Go below deck to my cabin. You can use a pot there then have the cook give you something warm. Freund!”

The boy came running at his captain’s bidding. Sigrid had to stifle her laugh as she saw the look of adoration and puppy love on the boy’s young face. “Thank you,” she said to both before Freund gestured for her to follow him.

By the time Sigrid came back above deck a half an hour later, Freya’s and Leif’s longboats were tied abreast, and Leif stood on the deck speaking to his sister. She approached with hesitation when Freya waved her over.

“Good morning,” Leif offered her a warm smile, and Sigrid’s mouth went dry. She knew what the fates had in store for her, but it did not make this conversation any easier. She took in his long hair braided back from his face with the sides sheared close to the skin. His beard was much shorter than most men she knew, but it suited him well. She realized that she preferred him cleaner shaven than the times she had seen him with a full beard. Leif’s face was far too handsome to hide behind a layer of fur. He set his strong jaw as he watched her wary approach. His gray eyes twinkled this morning with a light of persistent mischief that had been there since he was a boy. She could not help but smile back, but it dissolved when she remembered what she had to share.

“Good morning,” Sigrid looked to Freya.

“I have shared none of what you told me. I thought it was best to let you tell your own story.”

While Sigrid appreciated Freya’s respect, she dreaded having to tell Leif that she had been a virtual voyeur in his life since the time they were both young.

“Sigrid, you do not look so happy to see me,” Leif mused. She swallowed again then peered at him. His warm smile would change soon enough. “Do you fear telling me you are a seer? Erik and Rangvald already told us.”

“I already knew you knew of it. It’s why you thought you came for me.”

Leif’s brow furrowed. “What other reason is there?”

“Before I can explain, you must know how I knew what I’m about to share. Leif, I knew you would come for me because I saw it before they even took me.”

“That must have been a relief for you then. You knew someone would rescue you.”

“I let them take me because it had to be you and Freya who came for me. I’ve had visions of you and Freya since I was a child. I saw you at your first battle, at Freya’s first one, the first time you--” a furious blush crept over her face, and Leif’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “You must believe that was not something I ever wanted to see. It was what happened afterward with the woman’s husband that the gods warned me about. I cast runes and prayed to the gods to remember your fate was not to die that night.”

“What else have you seen?”

“Nothing else of that nature, thank the All Father. But I have seen much of your lives both during battle and while at home. I must tell you both something now, and you must decide what to do with it. You will not believe me at first, but I have no reason to lie. I could have no way of knowing unless I had seen it while I walked with the spirits.”

Leif watched the young woman struggle with her emotions as she looked between the two. He saw her eyes mist as she blinked away the moisture. Leif wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and reassure her she did not need to share whatever troubled her so much, but he knew that if it caused her this much turmoil, it was something he had to know. He caught himself as he reached out his hand to her arm, but at her watery smile, he did not hesitate again. Leif placed his hand on her forearm and felt the tremble. She swallowed before taking a deep breath.

“Strian’s uncle. It’s Strian’s uncle who has caused all of this. The man knows no bounds to his ambition, but he knows how to manipulate others. The man killed his own brother to become your father’s captain of warriors. He is also the man who’s been feeding secrets to Hakin.”

“What?” Freya gasped.

“That cannot be,” Leif muttered. “Everyone knows of his loyalty to my father since they were boys.”

Sigrid shook her head. “No, he hasn’t been. Far from it. He loves your mother, or at least believes he does. When it was time for your father to marry my Aunt Inga, he thought he could finally make Lena his. He never accepted that your father would have kept her as his mistress before ever giving her up and most definitely not to another man. Instead, he bedded my Aunt Inga who married Hakin’s younger brother, Grímr. They come together every chance they have which hasn’t been often these last few years, but it’s Einar’s children she bore not her husband’s. Inga loves Einar, but he’s obsessed with your mother. Einar would see your father and both of you destroyed before he dies. Einar still believes he can have Lena. He would leave his wife and Inga to have your mother.”

“How do you know all of this,” Leif whispered hoarsely.

“Strian’s father is not at rest yet. Eindride’s spirit lingers and has been my guide since Einar killed him.”

“Why haven’t you made any effort to tell us? To inform us? You must know our people are allies. You never saw fit to make this known.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why,” Leif demanded. His voice was rising with each question, and his hand that offered support a moment ago was now a vice around her wrist.

Sigrid looked down at her wrist and then up to Freya, but her face showed no compassion for Sigrid’s position. Sigrid twisted her arm, and Leif released her. He stared at his hand as if he had not even realized he held her arm pinned in place.

“Eindride refused to let me. He made it clear we can’t trust Einar. He feared for Strian’s life if someone made his shame known. Eindride is convinced Einar will kill Strian before he allows himself to submit to your father’s justice. However, it has become desperate now. In the past, the information Einar shared was harmless. Little more than crops and numbers of livestock. He shared information about your voyages, but Hakin took little interest in it until this last one. The Norsemen you battled on the way to Scotland were Hakin’s. They were trying to sink your ships to leave your father unprotected as Hakin moves south to attack.”

“That does not explain why you let them take you.”

“Einar was one of the men who had me taken. He traveled with Hakin’s men for the first night before he doubled back to return before your father could realize he left. He is there now and will ride out with your father if they haven’t already left. I know their plan. Einar assumed I’d be dead by now with no one to tell what he and the other men discussed.”

“And what was it you learned?” Freya spoke up.

“Einar intends to poison your father a little at a time. He wants to weaken your father before his men then deny him Valhalla by killing him in his sleep rather than allowing him to die in battle.”

“He has so little honor as that?” Freya scoffed, “I find that hard to believe.”

“The man has no honor at all. None. Einar will try to rape Tyra before you return home. He will bring Strian to the brink of death before Bjorn kills him for his attack on Tyra. Einar and Hakin agreed he will have Leif’s jarldom once your father dies. Hakin would kill you and Leif. Then his own younger brother, Inga’s husband, will take Rangvald’s place after they kill him and Erik.”

“That’s a great many people they must ensure are dead to make their plan work,” Freya mused.

“Patience. Look at how long Einar has coveted your mother. When you return, you will find Einar’s wife dead with her throat slit buried in a shallow grave in the woods just east of your homestead.”

“And you didn’t see that in any of your visions before this?” Leif wondered.

“I don’t get to pick what the spirits and runes reveal. I cannot control whether fate will show me or when it will happen. Sometimes it is not until after the fact that I learn of what has transpired.” Sigrid looked into Leif’s eyes as she spoke her last truth, “it is only ever you who I can see before the events, so that means Freya and the others if they will be with you. But it is you the gods have sent me to see.”

“What does that mean?”

“Honestly? I don’t know for sure. But the gods intend for me to be a part of your life either from a distance or, as it is now, up close.”

“Close,” Leif murmured.

Freya cleared her throat as she looked between the two. “I believe this is what Father meant when he said you are to keep your distance.”

“Your father doesn’t believe me to be a suitable companion to his son. I’m not advantageous enough.” Sigrid smiled as she saw Leif shift uncomfortably. “That assumes I aspire to the position.”

Freya snorted as she dragged Sigrid toward the steps to her cabin. “It is time we get you clothed before my brother loses the little sense you’ve seen to protect.”

Leif watched the two women walk away and knew he was well out of his depths with either of them, but if they paired together, he stood little chance of remaining in control. He looked over to see Tyra watching and grinning from her own deck.

Thor’s hammer. I will be lucky to come out alive between Einar and these women. But Father is mistaken if he thinks she’s not the right match for me. She will be mine. Of that I can promise him and All Father. Sigrid will be my wife.