Heart of a Viking by Samantha Holt

Author:Samantha Holt [Holt, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Thorarin stepped off the ship and eyed the sail again. Ragni would be furious. He’d have to ensure Keita did not suffer for it. He curled a fist and began the climb back to the settlement. He’d had the men put a hold on preparing to leave. They could not do anything until the sail was repaired. At some point during the past few months, it had become damaged enough to need a new one. He recognised the damage as probably having come from the storms they sailed through but it likely hadn’t been visible at the time. These months waiting in the dock had increased the damage and now it needed a new sail.

Which worked in his favour. Now he would not have to raid on Ragni’s behalf. Or leave Keita. The thought of leaving her unprotected created a chasm in his chest. As he marched up the slope, following the faint path many feet had woven through the woods over the years, he thought of their kiss. He’d not wanted to leave her, not then and not now. He strongly suspected he could remain kissing her for a lifetime and never tire of it.

But of course, if he succeeded, he’d have to release her. She would return home to her family—where she belonged. And he would never blame her for that. As a man with no family, he knew how important they were, even those who had betrayed her. Family could unload much on a person and still be forgiven because there was nothing deeper than blood.

Thorarin paused at where the trees opened out onto the settlement. Would Ragni begin to suspect sabotage if Thorarin told him of this sail?

Perhaps, though the járl seemed in ignorance as to his machinations and the villagers’ murmurs had settled. Only a few would speak out about him now and those voices would be quashed under the weight of the support he had. He’d become a valued member of the village, just as his father had once been.

But the difference was, Ragni was no longer at the height of his power. Thanks to the járl’s own greed and temper, and with a little help from Thorarin, ensuring the járl was ejected from his seat would be easy enough. With any luck, no one would need any more help from Thorarin to call for a new leader. And that was when Thorarin would step into the breach.

He headed to the longhouse, pausing briefly to speak to one of the men who had asked for help with his barn. “I would not go to the járl this day, Thorarin,” Ulf warned.

“Why is that?”

“He’s in a fine temper. Took one of the boys and had him strung up and whipped.”

Thorarin should not have been surprised. Had he not witnessed the járl’s savagery enough times? Had he not known it first hand?

“What did the boy do?”

“Stole from the storehouse I believe. Not that I can blame him. The járl is asking for more than anyone can give.

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