Page 52 of Mastered By the Viking King

The horn blasted, long mewing calls into the winter sky.

“It is your brother?” Tove asked, standing close.

“Aye, I believe it is.” Njal grinned at his wife. “This is a good day. A very good day.”

She smiled. “I am glad. And I will be pleased to meet him.”

Njal kissed the top of her head, and gently nipped Frode’s cheek. He turned back to the longboat.

It was approaching rapidly now. The fjord was calmer closer to land.

But Njal’s joy was tinged by a shard of fear. There was something in Leif’s stance that told him all was not well.

He snatched in a breath, the exhale huffing out a plume of white air. Perhaps they’d experienced an especially bad crossing?

Finally, the longboat pulled up against the pier. There was great excitement in the crowd as the weary Vikings were helped to secure the vessel with ropes, and pass barrels and wicker cages to shore.

Leif jumped onto the pier, his expression grim.

“Brother.” Njal flung his arms around him and slapped him on the shoulders. “We feared for you.”

“I am here now.” Leif hugged him in return. “And happy to be on dry land. The winter sea is rough.” He pulled back. “We lost two men overboard.”

Njal frowned. “They will be in Valhalla feasting with the gods.”

“Aye, they will be.” He turned his attention to Knud. “Greetings, my little warrior.”

“Uncle Leif.” Knud held out his arms and was swiftly passed to Leif. “I have missed you.”

“I have missed you.”

“When can I come raiding with you?”

“When you are as big as me.” Leif chuckled and directed his attention to Frode. “Still sucking that thumb, huh?”

Frode nodded, his eyes wide.

“And this”—Njal wrapped his arm around Tove, a rush of pride filling his chest—“is the new queen. My new wife, Tove of Cativad.”

“It is a pleasure.” Leif’s eyes sparkled as he took her free hand and kissed her knuckles. “I can already see that you have made my brother happy.”

Tove smiled. “I am thankful to the gods for your safe return. Would you like to come and eat with us?”

“Aye—all the men need food.” He turned to Njal. “But there is something I cannot delay telling you, brother.”

Njal’s stomach twisted. He’d sensed there was something more than the stormy voyage.

“Your village in Wessex.”

“Aye.” He released Tove and balled his hands into fists.

“There was…”

“A problem with the harvest?” Njal scowled. Irritation nipped at his nerves.

“There was a harvest, but I am sorry to tell you it was a harvest of blood.”

“What?” He clenched his teeth.

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