Vikings by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: onka-tobe, amazon, Romance, historical
Amazon: B07TN8ZT7P
Publisher: Historical Harlots
Published: 2019-07-17T22:00:00+00:00

Life ebbs, the spirit moves on, let the Valkyrie come.

The might was his, blade and shining sword,

Courage to the earth they felled.

Yggdrasil, great tree of life,

nine realms of the universe,

echo to the gods to hear a mortal’s plea.

Odin, take up the body of thy warrior,

let him live forever in hallowed halls, Valhalla!

Tears spilled down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she managed to choke out.

Comprehension dawned. Thorolf had not been the one to slay Shadow.

“It was not you,” she stated, her heart heavy with shame that she had accused him.

He rose and came to stand before her. Cupping her face gently in his large, capable hands, he studied her for a moment without speaking. Ailsa shifted uncomfortably. He cleared his throat.

“You trusted me with your most blessed treasure, your wolves, and yet you quickly accused me of murder. Even after I told you I had lost Ásgæirr in the battle with the Nechtain? You, who I revere above all women, doubted me, your husband. I am deeply saddened. There is more I need to do to gain your trust.”

Guilt twisted in her gut. He was right. She’d unfairly judged him out of anger.

“I…”

He placed his hand over her mouth and shook his head. “No. Do not speak. Nothing you say can mend this rift between us right now. Given time, I hope you will come to trust me.”

He released her face, turning away. Fresh tears fell, although this time, she wept out of shame.

“I should like to know what you wish me to do with Shadow’s body,” he asked in a hollow voice.

“Please bury him deep enough to stop any scavengers from finding him.”

He did not reply, but set about the task, using his knife, even pressing his mighty sword, Ásgæirr, into use in order to scrape away at the forest floor. But in the end, he resorted to using his bare hands to dig. By the time he was done, it was nearly dark. Beckoning to Ailsa, he led her the short distance to another clearing where he had placed his fur cloak on the ground. He pulled open the skin pack he had with him, producing nuts and berries, then, unravelling a parcel of cloth, he revealed a loaf of bread. They ate in silence, washing the simple meal down with water from a skin tied to his waist.

“Sleep now. We leave at dawn,” he told her.

“What of you?” she asked in a small voice.

“I wish to ensure there is no threat. Perhaps I will sleep later.”

Exhausted, Ailsa did as he directed, curling up on the fur. She placed her hands under her cheek and closed her eyes. Who had killed her beautiful friend? Perhaps the Eanfrith had come across him all alone and unprotected? She hoped they had not found the wolves’ lair and the pack.

Finally, sleep took her.

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