VIKING betrayed by Markland Anna

Author:Markland, Anna
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-21T16:00:00+00:00

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Bryk Kriger’s Viking blood flowed hotly in Magnus’s veins. His father had boasted often enough that a Norseman’s spirits soared when he stood with legs braced on a longboat bound for the open sea.

Though they weren’t undertaking an adventure, excitement tingled in his bones as one of his men shoved the Alexandria away from the dock. He tasted exhilaration on the breeze. He’d captained the boat many times, but this day was different. He was carrying a precious cargo and would do his utmost to protect Judith in the event of trouble, although he didn’t anticipate problems during the short voyage.

The commands shouted to the crew, his stance at the prow, the watchful eye he kept on the swiftly moving water, all were familiar things he had done many times. Now, he felt Judith’s gaze on him, swelling his heart with pride in the seafaring skills passed on by his father.

Many Vikings believed women on board ship brought bad luck, but Judith seemed to belong on the Alexandria.

He chuckled inwardly. There was nothing like being watched by a beautiful woman to make a man strut.

“You’re strutting, brother.”

He turned to scowl at Dag. Preoccupied with Judith, he hadn’t noticed his brother approach from the stern. “Vikings who stand at the prow of a longboat are supposed to strut. Did you learn nothing from father?”

Dag laughed heartily. “Many say those of us born in Francia cannot claim to be Vikings. We are too soft.”

Pondering his brother’s remark, Magnus shouted an order to the man at the tiller as they approached one of the many meandering bends in the river. “The tide’s going out. This rowing speed should get us to the delta in good time,” he said. “However, the helmsman might need your help.”

“Understood,” Dag acknowledged as he left the prow.

It wasn’t the first time Magnus had heard comments regarding the supposed lack of backbone among the sons of the original Viking settlers. He admired the courage of his father and the rest of the people of Møre who’d left Norway thirty years before. In comparison, his life was easier, thanks to the hardships endured by his father.

He became immersed in his thoughts, lulled into contentment by the rhythmic splash and creak of the oars, the grunts of the rowers as they heeded the beat of the drum, the sound of the boat slicing through the miles of sun-dappled water.

“This is my land, won for me by my ancestors,” he murmured to the river, gripping the smooth wood of the prow. “I will give my life in its defense, if needs be. My children and my children’s children will inherit its bounty.”

But his pledge reminded him he had no sons. Brede was right. Soon he would have to consider a second marriage.

He glanced back quickly to where Judith sat atop his sea chest, her smiling face turned to the sun, and acknowledged deep in his heart she was the woman he wanted to spend his life with.

Fingering his Thor’s hammer he looked back to the Seine, uttering a desperate prayer she might be his.

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