Viking Quest by Edale Lane

Author:Edale Lane [Lane, Edale]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Past and Prologue Press
Published: 2021-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

As the sun was setting over the placid waters of Reykjavik Bay, streaming its kaleidoscope of pink, purple, red, and blue streaking across the sky, Gunnar sat alone on a pier contemplating the events of the day, and all of the voyage thus far. From his position he overheard Olan and Ivar conversing, and smelled the aroma of Ivar’s pipe. “’Tis a beautiful night, isn’t it my friend?” Ivar asked.

“Yes, it is,” Olan agreed. “What brings you out here?”

“Oh, just thinking,” Ivar replied.

Seems I am not the only burdened by thoughts, Gunnar considered.

“About home, Yvonne?”

To that Ivar turned his face up to Olan. “How did you know?”

“We have been away for a while now, and I am sure you miss her as I know she misses you and must worry.” Olan took a seat on the stone beside his friend.

“Aye,” Ivar agreed. “And what of you and Caitlin?”

“What?” Olan’s tone rang with surprise.

“Now don’t deny it. You two are the talk of the camp. Liffey is in a fit, he is so jealous,” Ivar laughed.

“No, Ivar,” Olan answered with a shake of his head. “It is not what it seems. We are friends; that is all.”

Ivar raised a brow. “Truly?” Olan nodded and Ivar resuming puffing on his pipe.

After a moment of silence, Olan spoke in curiosity. “I have a question for you. How did you know Yvonne was the right woman for you?”

This should be interesting. Gunnar decided that listening in on a discussion about women would be more uplifting than the shadows that played at the edge of his consciousness. Should I be considering a wife?

“Well…” Ivar searched into that splendid sunset as he answered. “Yvonne and I have known each other all our lives. We played together, grew up together, our parents were neighbors; I have always been very comfortable with her. Then one day, as we were leaving the new cathedral after mass, I looked at her and perceived she had grown into a stunning woman. I remember,” he digressed, bliss glowing in his eyes. “She was wearing a burgundy dress with ivory lace; her hair was braided and pinned up like a woman’s. It was winter; snow lay all around and glistening icicles dangled from the cathedral’s eve. In the neckline of that gown I could see the crevice between her well-rounded breasts. She wore a gold cross pendant that hung right there. Then she smiled at me with her radiant blue eyes and supple, red lips. Oh, she was beautiful, all right, and I realized that we weren’t children anymore. I guess my feelings for her grew out of friendship into a deep and intimate love. Because our families were friends, it was easy to arrange the marriage. The most amazing part was that she loved me. To think—plain ol’ Ivar getting the best, most lovely woman in all of Skuvoylund.”

“So, one day it just hit you and you knew?”

“Like a bolt of lightning out of the sky—blam! Ivar’s been struck,” he chuckled.

“Then what did you do?” Olan inquired.

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