Warmth seeped into his fingertips, heating him from the inside out. Sun streaked through the dappled trees, bringing with it the scent of pine.
“Jarl… What happened? A trick of the gods?”
“Perhaps Loki is bored and wishes to torment us.”
While he trusted Erik, he needed to talk to his father first before sharing anything with anyone else. A muscle in Erik’s jaw jumped as he nodded stiffly.
“Let us find the others and make camp for the night.”
Clapping Erik on the back, Njáll forced a tight smile to appear.
Over the next two days, all signs of Hel vanished.
The forest brimmed with life. Foxes burrowed into their holes with their kits, birds chirped in the morning sun, and the salty tang of sea air swept along the treetops.
With the odd occurrences fading, Njáll commanded him and his men to return to the clan. He knew when they arrived home, he would spend hours in council with the Konungr.
And as soon as he finished, he’d return home, crawling into the furs beside his kona, kissing her lips until he remembered nothing else but her.
Eventually, he’d have to tell her about what happened, about what he saw.
But for her, it was nothing new.
It was a burden he could shoulder for her.
One he needn’t plague her with.
For now, the draugar quieted.
She had enough to worry about.
The full moon glowed high in the sky as they maneuvered through the well-worn paths leading to the village.
All the dwellings were quiet; families tucked in for the evening. His warriors broke away, returning to their homes.
As Erik made his way toward the home he shared with Astra, Njáll paused outside the longhouse. He knew he should wake his father, but nothing he shared would be any different when the sun rose.
His feet moved before his mind caught up, leading him to his home.
Light pulsed through the cracks in the panels. Wood scratched under his palm as he quietly pushed the door open, not wanting to wake Elara.
Fresh logs crackled in the fire pit.
Slowly, his tired fingers undid the buckles on his leathers, letting them fall to the floor with a thud. Clawing at his back, he yanked his tunic off, tossing it aside.
Grunting, he bent over, tugging off his boots until only his trews remained.
Tallow candles glittered against the walls and his gaze slid to the piles of furs atop his bed. He expected to find his kona sound asleep.
Instead, she sat upright, furs pooled around her hips, her bare breasts exposed.
A mane of crimson curls fanned around her, highlighting the pale pink coloring the tops of her cheeks. The usual tiredness that lined her eyes was nowhere to be found.
She rocked up to her knees, a slow smile spreading over her lips until it touched her eyes.
“Njáll. You’re home.”
He nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from the luminescent vision in his bed.
