Page 115 of Shared By the Vikings

And that he wouldn’t kill Raud for his part in her disappearance.

Or maybe kill them both.

“It is not far now,” Raud said, stepping away from the helm where he’d been tying a rope. He wound his arm around her waist. “Soon we will know of the king’s anger.”

She leaned against him. “I wish it had been different. I love my father; enraging him was never my intention.”

“It could not have been different. This is what the gods had planned.” He gestured at Tali and Gunnvar, who were rowing, and Erik, who was polishing his dagger as he watched the new landscape pass by. “You were destined to have four warriors to adore and protect you. That cannot be changed, not even by a king.”

“You’re right.” She just hoped her decision to return had been right. The gnawing ache, the longing to see her father again couldn’t be ignored. While he walked on this earth she needed to try to make peace with the man who had loved her since her first breath.

“Of course I am right.” Raud kissed her cheek. His stubbled chin scratched her flesh.

Erik looked up at her; he smiled, his often steely hard face gentle and at ease.

Her nerves were soothed. These men were hers and she was theirs, naught could change that. They also didn’t seem concerned by the prospect of her father’s wrath.

After rounding the next headland, Ravndal came into view. A huddle of wooden dwellings set by a golden beach shaped like a crescent moon. A pier ran from it, currently holding just three small boats. A fire burned on the shoreline, the flames just visible, and two horses and riders were on the grassy westerly spur.

“This is home,” she said.

“Our new home.” Gunnvar was a little out of breath as he rowed. The breeze was dropping and man-power their fuel.

“I like it,” Tali added, heaving on his oar.

Erik slipped his dagger away and stood, hands on hips at the front of the boat.

What is he thinking?

She hoped he would like Ravndal, that he’d settle, be content with animals and crops. But she knew he was an adventurer and exploring, raiding, discovering was in his blood. If he decided to go west again, she’d have to accept that.

Resting her hand on her belly, she hoped the son she would bear when the snows came would take the itch from all of her men’s feet.

They drew nearer. A young boy on the pier spotted them and ran, his little legs pumping fast, into the village. Within a minute her people were swarming from houses and fields and flocking to the pier and onto the beach.

She scanned the figures for her father. He was tall and wide, hard to miss.

Soon she saw him; despite the warm day he had a thick wolf fur thrown over his shoulders, the scalp and jaw still attached and hanging over his right shoulder.

“The king?” Gunnvar asked.

She nodded. “Ja, my father.”

“We have drawn quite a crowd.” Tali continued to row.

“They probably never expected to see Raud or me again.”

Raud fiddled with the rope, and as the boat came alongside the pier, he threw it.

A villager caught it and tied the vessel secure.

Ingrid kept her head held high and her expression neutral. It was important to maintain dignity despite her disgraceful behavior.

The king stepped forward, people parting. On each side of him stood four tall warriors, each holding a shield and sword.

“Father,” Ingrid said, nodding solemnly. She was stock still but inside her heart thudded so much it was as if all her internal organs were bouncing around.

“Daughter.” His eyebrows were pulled low, his feet wide, and his arms stiff at his sides—clenched fists was never a good sign.

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