Lena & Ivar (Viking Glory Book 0) by Celeste Barclay

Author:Celeste Barclay [Barclay, Celeste]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781733900485
Published: 2019-11-29T16:00:00+00:00

In less than a quarter of an hour, Jan had packed and both he and Ivar were mounted, charging toward the gate to the homestead.

“Ivar!”

Ivar twisted to see his father racing after him. Sword drawn. Ivar reined in, but he refused allow anyone to delay him.

“Where do you think you are going? Are you fleeing like a coward?” Soren spat the accusation at his son as he pointed the tip of his sword at Ivar’s chest. Ivar’s nostrils flared as he batted the sword away and leaned toward his father.

“The only coward is you. You are too fearful to admit you’ve made an error in welcoming Inga into this tribe. Now she’s had Lena attacked. Lena’s fled with Eindride, Rangvald, and Lorna. The bitch’s own brother would rather rescue my woman than stand beside his sister.”

“You lie,” Soren spluttered. “You just hoped to run away from your duties so you can rut with your whore.”

Ivar whipped his horse around but looked back at his father. The look of hatred made Soren take a step back.

“I will never forgive you for that comment. If you weren’t my father, I’d kill you for calling Lena that. Call her that again, and I will.” Ivar spurred his forward. “Check the bodies outside Lena’s home. They’re Thor’s men. Why would they be there?”

Ivar and Jan galloped through the gates and onto the road that would take them south and to Lena and their friends. Soren looked around and found Tormud and Einar standing together. He caught an expression on Einar’s face that he was not sure how to interpret, but it was gone in an instant. He walked to Tormud’s side as he sheathed his sword.

“You were once a great warrior to me. Your wife was my wife’s best friend. You have never asked for anything, not even when your daughter became my son’s companion. Tell me true.”

Tormud looked into Soren’s eyes, and the jarl sensed he would not like the story they would tell him.

“Lena couldn’t watch the blessing, so she went home. Men must have followed her because there was blood on the floor in the main room of my longhouse, but Lena was not there. I couldn’t find her sword or bow and arrows, and the dress she wore was tossed onto the bed. She always hangs up her clothing. The ax by my woodpile is bloody, and there are five dead guardsmen from Jarl Thor’s tribe. They splintered the door from my kitchen by hacking it open, and there are dents in the front door.”

Soren drag his hand over his face before rubbing it across his nape. He turned to look at his longhouse where his new ally seethed at the disgrace Ivar caused by shunning Inga. He glanced back at Tormud, then at Einar, who was staring at the jarl’s longhouse. Once again, he saw something in the young man’s face that made him uneasy. It was almost a look of glee that there was trouble brewing. Soren caught Tormud’s eye before lifting his chin toward Einar then tilted his head away.

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