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“Skald!” everyone returned, drinking their fill before breaking off into conversations and catching up with their loved ones, many of whom rose to welcome them home.

“All allied tribes to the north support your rule,” Knud assured me, sitting by my side as always, given his position in our tribe. A strong, steady presence I had greatly missed. Helga sat on my other side, just as happy to see him again, but more engaged with the woman beside her. Someone she had loved for years, no matter how discreet they thought themselves.

“’Tis good to know our allies support me as much as they did my father,” I replied to Knud, not missing Signe eyeing him from across the fire. Lovely enough with fair features, ash blond hair, and earthy brown, sultry eyes that she used to her advantage, she had made her affections for Knud known for many a moon now. While he occasionally seemed to enjoy her attention, I couldn’t say if he had welcomed her into his bed.

I could only pray he had not, even as I knew it was wrong to wish it.

“Has there been any word from Freya and Soren?” Knud asked, referring to my sister and brother-by-marriage, whose tribe resided several hours south of us. “Or from Astrid?”

Astrid, who’d reached out to me via the flames earlier, was my youngest sister. Over two winters ago, Father had sent her to Scotland to help establish peace betwixt the Scots and the Norse, who had lived there for generations, and to seek out a favorable marriage, preferably with a powerful Scottish chieftain. Since then, she had done so and married Laird Declan Mackay.

“Ja, Freya and Soren should be here within days to visit,” I said, answering Knud. I gave him a grim look. “As to Astrid, that is a conversation best left for later.”

His brow furrowed in concern, and he nodded once, acknowledging that he understood. “’Twill be good for you to see Freya again.”

“’Twill.” I could not help a small smile. “And then someday soon, the gods willing, my niece.”

“She’s had the babe then?” He once again offered me one of those rare smiles and gave my shoulder a supportive, if not friendly, squeeze. “’Tis good to hear. And without doubt another Helvig shield-maiden.”

“Someday to be sure,” I vowed, eager to meet her, understanding she was too young to travel right now. “I will personally see to it every chance I get.”

“No doubt you will.” His hand lingered on my shoulder for a moment, and he eyed me with pride, if not a touch of curiosity, if I didn’t know better. “Just as you will your own shield-maiden daughters someday.”

While I knew it might be nothing more than wishful thinking, I swore, as I sometimes did, that something passed between us. A surge of heat and desire brimming beneath the surface. I couldn’t help but wonder for a moment if he imagined fathering my daughters. Watching them grow. Sharing all those important moments.

Biting back my emotions, lest he or anyone else see them, I redirected the conversation to those around us and enjoyed tales from their latest venture. Though Knud hadn’t seemed hard-pressed to share any potentially dire news with me, I soon learned Astrid’s warning via the fire might not be such a far-fetched idea.

Something I addressed when, at last, Knud and I were alone.

Chapter Two

Knud

“How much credence should we put in these rumors you heard during your travels?” Tove asked me, as everyone went their separate ways after a few hours of drinking, eating, and celebrating being home after months away. “Can we expect to be called upon by King Magnus to fight?”

Magnus Håkonsson was the youngest son of King Håkon Håkonsson, who had fallen ill in the Orkneys and died over the winter, leaving his youngest son king, given his oldest son had already passed. Rumor had it King Magnus pondered how to handle the Scottish King Alexander’s relentless drive to possess, or “reclaim”, as he called it, all of the isles off the coast of Scotland.

“I could not say other than many speculate King Magnus doesn’t possess the same need to rule Scotland and its isles that his father Hákon had before him,” I replied, doing my best to act with Tove as I always did while walking back to our lodgings in the swirling mist.

As her second-in-command and friend.

Yet, all I had wanted to do since laying eyes on her again was pull her into my arms. Feel her lithe, toned body against mine. Finally feel her as I had long wanted to.

Since the moment I had come across her in the snowy woodlands of the north, facing off with a polar bear, of all things, I had been drawn to her. And that feeling only intensified with age. Not just my admiration of her strong, selfless character, but also because none were so beautiful in my eyes. In many men’s eyes, even though they would never dare admit it lest they lose her respect.

With thick, shimmering, ebony hair that she typically braided back, her sun-kissed features were delicate and beguiling, despite her oftentimes serious expression. A means, it seemed, to be taken seriously. Or so she’d claimed one night when we were in our cups. She had confessed how our society seemed to favor men more with each passing year, giving women less control, and she refused to let it happen to her. Now here she was, the earl of one of the most renowned tribes in the Kingdom of Norway, having been voted in unanimously by her people.

Though I knew I should not because it would only drive me to distraction with desire for her, I had missed our nightly routine while away. “One last ale together so that we might discuss what worries you? I assume ’tis in regard to Astrid, given you didn’t want to talk about her in front of the others.”

“’Tis.” She looked my way with concern in her thickly lashed, pale sea-green eyes. “I fear I’ve heard word from her within the flames, so ja, one last ale would be welcomed.”

Like most in these parts, I was aware of her and her sisters’ seer gifts. While the new religion sweeping the country would frown upon it, I revered it, as did our tribe. How could we not, given it was a gift born of the gods? To my mind, that made Tove and her sisters favored by our deities and therefore, to be admired and respected.

Upon entering her cottage, I inhaled deeply, drawing in her scent. It forever lingered in here, sweet, and earthy. A delicious aroma that was all hers. It made me want to wrap her up in my arms and breathe it in always. Breathe her in. She might have been tall for a woman, but I still dwarfed her and could easily tuck the top of her head beneath my chin, allowing me to draw in the scent of her hair and all that lay beneath.

“Sit, Knud,” Tove insisted, heading me off when I made to tend the fire. “You have well earned some rest.” After adding a log herself, she poured ale into two wooden cups, and looked at me with gratefulness in her eyes. “And you have my appreciation, just as you always do.”

Tossing aside my black fur cloak, I did as she requested, never more grateful to be home than I was right now. After all, this, here and now in this cottage with her, would always feel like my truest home. By her side in a place in which we had shared many an ale and countless conversations over the years.