Page 62 of Mastered By the Viking King

“Aye, but has he sailed west in wintertime before?”

Wanda was quiet.

The ropes holding the longboat to the pier were released.

“I thought not,” Tove said with a bitter sigh.

The boat was pushed out, the oars making their first strike in the water.

A huge cheer went up, the townsfolk whooping and clapping, stamping their feet.

As the boat made its way into the fjord’s rolling waters, the horn sounded from the shore, long, echoing wails that reminded Tove of wolf howls.

She shivered, watching her husband’s outline as the longboat rose and fell with the wind-driven swells… This couldn’t be the last time she saw him. Surely, the gods wouldn’t be so cruel. They’d only just found each other. She needed a whole lifetime with him, not just weeks.

The boat became a speck, then slipped from view around the headland.

“Mama, I’m hungry,” Knud said.

“Are you? After all that bread?”

“Aye, my tummy hurts I’m so hungry.”

“Maybe your tummy hurts because you are sad to see your father leave?”

“No.” He shook his head a little too rapidly. “I am brave. I am not sad.”

“Youarebrave.” She stroked his chin. “But if you need to be sad, that’s all right. When someone you love goes away it is hard, even if you are learning to be a Viking warrior.”

He swallowed and turned from the fjord.

“Let’s go into the warmth,” Tove said, wrapping her fingers tighter around his. “After the bread, maybe you can play with your new longboat.”

“Aye.” His face brightened. “In the lake?”

“I think the lake is iced over.”

“But can we go and look?” His gaze connected with hers.

She couldn’t deny him. Not when his father had just left, and it wasn’t long since his real mother had been taken from him. “Aye, we’ll go and look. I would like that, too.”

* * *

“Pull! Pull! Pull!” Njal roared from the aft of the longboat.

His warriors did his bidding, their strong arms battling against the looming swells and gusting wind.

They’d breached the entrance of the fjord, the mountains and forests of home receding into the mist.

Beyond was open sea—days of open sea.

“The storm is only just waking,” Leif shouted. Salty spray peppered his beard and his eyes flashed as a sheet of lightning filled the sky.

“And soon it will sleep,” Njal replied, heaving on his own oar.

“It will sleep on command of Thor,” Leif said. “I hope he gives that command soon.”

The boat lurched. Two Vikings roared as they struggled to keep hold of their oars. A roll of blankets flew into the air and disappeared.

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