Page 51 of Mastered By the Viking King

A sudden loud bellow rang out. The horn. It seemed louder than usual and held more urgency.

Tove looked at Wanda.

Her eyes were wide. “Someone is approaching Halsgrof.”

“Who?”

“We should go and see.” She rushed to scoop up Tove’s cape and held it wide. “Here, my queen, wear this.”

“Can we come?” Knud was on his feet.

“Can we? Can we?” Frode asked.

Tove secured her cloak. “Aye, but you must hold my hand, both of you.”

They each slotted their small hands into Tove’s, and she led them through the curtain into the Great Hall.

The horn continued as they arrived outside, the air frigid, icy. Townsfolk were rushing through the village, keen to see who was arriving. Was it friend or foe?

Tove and Wanda joined in the rush, the two boys jogging along. When she reached the pier, the small crowd parted so she could join Njal who stood at the end. “Who is it?” she asked breathlessly.

He turned, a light she hadn’t seen before filling his face. “It is Leif. It is Leif’s longboat.”

“Leif?” Her heart soared. In the distance, a longboat bobbed on the waves, the oars battling the choppy water, the sail billowing. “He is here.”

“His boat is here.” Njal held his fist to the sky. “I ask the gods that my brother be on it.”

“It is Uncle Leif?” Knud asked.

Njal scooped him up, holding him high and wrapped in the fur of his cloak. “I believe it is. Tell me when you see him, Knud. You have good eyes. You will see him first.”

“I will tell you! I will tell you!”

Tove reached for Frode and held him on her hip. He nestled into her cloak, and she kissed the top of his little head. His hair smelled of chestnut soap.

Wanda stood at her side.

Tove looked at her. She managed a small smile.

Wanda nodded.

They each feared King Njal going to sea in such bad weather. They both hoped this really was Leif, because that would put an end to Njal’s crazy plan. If Leif was safely in Halsgrof, there was no need for Njal to go to Wessex in search of him.

* * *

Njal stared at the longboat approaching. He hardly dared hope what he thought he could see.

His brother.

If it really was Leif, he’d throw another great feast. He’d make sacrifices to the gods, and he’d give every man and woman in town a silver coin.

“It is him! It is him!” Knud shouted, bobbing up and down in his arms. “I can see Uncle Leif!”

“I do believe,” Njal said, ruffling his son’s hair, “you are right.”

At the mast of the longboat stood a tall, broad man, his shaved inked head gleaming in the daylight. He wore a huge black bear fur.

Leif.

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