Page 1 of Mastered By the Viking King

Prologue

“Ido not wish to see her face or hear her name spoken again!” King Njal roared. “She is no longer my wife, no longer mother to my sons.”

Halfdan shook, as did the pots on the table next to him. The king’s fury rivaled any bear that roamed the mountains.

“Aye, my king. I will ensure that she is never spoken of again.”

“I should have her head. Have her swinging from a rope. His too.” Njal drew a line over his throat. “Dead, that’s what they should be for this.”

“The wanderer has gone.” Halfdan wrung his hands together. “Fled before dawn.”

“I will have a bounty put upon his treacherous head.” Njal stomped to the table and poured a horn of mead. His blood was on fire—not the fire of war, but of betrayal, and it burned especially bright, stinging like a swarm of summer wasps. He drank his mead in one gulp.

“I will see to your bidding now,” Halfdan said, rushing to the doors of the Great Hall. “And ensure she is banished from the town walls.”

“Aye, and be sure she knows if she returns she will be sentenced to a traitor’s death. A blood eagle.”

Halfdan paused with his hand on the door.

Njal knew he had shocked him. Women didn’t suffer that fate; it was the law of the gods. But Njal didn’t care. His anger knew no bounds, even at the cost of upsetting the All Father.

“Oh, and…” Njal clicked his fingers. “Bring me more women before nightfall. I will need a new wife. A new queen.”

“Aye, of course.” Halfdan disappeared into the cold morning.

Njal stomped to his throne and sat. He’d given Halfdan a tricky task. The daylight hours were short now that winter was rapidly approaching. Soon the first snows would fall, lakes would freeze, and the fjord would pitch and toss as though boiling.

But Njal felt sure his faithful manservant would find him a line of women to choose from. He’d never failed before to fulfill his king’s bidding.

“Thor, Odin, Loki, Freya, what did I do to deserve this?” He held his hands to the ceiling. “My gods, you are playing a wicked game with me.”

His emotions were stretched tight, bows holding arrows, and each arrow held the pain of anger, jealousy, deceit, and revenge. The queen’s cheating ways had as good as slashed him from throat to belly, exposing his insides to the world.

Wrapping his arms around himself now, he hunched forward and squeezed his eyes shut. His sons would never see their exiled mother again. Harsh as that was, it was necessary.

And made it all the more important for Njal to find himself a new wife and mother for them.

Three hours later the Great Hall began to fill.

Njal sat watching the arrival of the townsfolk and wishing his brother Leif was at his side. But Leif had traveled west some time ago. Journeying to Wessex to meet with King Egbert. His return was overdue. This made Njal’s temper all the sourer.

“My king,” Halfdan said, standing before him. “I have sought beautiful maidens for you to choose from. A new wife is here. A new queen is in this room.”

“That is for me to decide.” Njal slammed his fist into his palm. “Bring them out. Bring them to me.”

A murmur of conversation rippled around the crowd as they parted, allowing three women to emerge.

Njal narrowed his eyes and studied them. His heart was tight, his breaths hard in his lungs. The very blood in his veins had been laced with the acid of his wife’s disloyalty.

The first woman was petite with braided hair, big blue eyes, and delicate lips. A first glance at her sea-green tunic adorned with buckles and buttons and he guessed she was of good stock. Likely her father a warrior or hunter.

His attention moved to the next woman. Older, silver-streaked hair, a gaze that would not connect with his.

I’ll knock Halfdan to the other side of the hall for that one.

Finally he studied the last woman. Short, round, cheeks like cherries, and eyelashes that fluttered.

His cock stirred. Perhaps she’d do. But then again, the first one had potential, too.

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