Page 49

And so, we had, and the future looked brighter than ever.

As promised, King Alexander and Lord Magnus provided ships, and we had more than enough provisions to sail all ten vessels home. This time, the skies were clear and storm-free. As it had been when we sailed to the Isle of Mann, the wind was at our back, and we made record time.

Though we didn’t want to burden Freya and her husband, Soren, with so many people, they insisted we stay for a few days so that I might spend more time with my niece, Katrine.

“She’s every bit as special as her cousin, Lachlann,” I had said to Freya before we set sail for home, holding Katrine like I’d held Lachlann, loving both dearly already. While I wouldn’t be able to watch Lachlann grow up outside of the flames, we intended to visit with the Dahls frequently over the years, so at least I would see Katrine.

Our newest tribe members were welcomed warmly when we finally, at long last, arrived home on our Norwegian Isle, Moskenesøya, and we received many cheers not just at our return but at news of our nuptials. Just as Helga had said, none were surprised. They were elated. Many claimed it meant truly good things for our tribe, and I didn’t doubt it in the least as I’d finally left my cottage and moved into my father’s sizeable lodge with Knud.

Now, a few fortnights later, we had decided to make a brief expedition to the mainland north of us, at Knud’s request, to visit the ancestral home of his people.

And every last new tribe member had opted to join us.

“The blade warms at your side again, doesn’t it?” I asked softly. Nearly there, we stood at the bow of our ship amid big fluffy snowflakes. “Just as my talisman warms now, it tells you something, just as it told you to return to this land to say goodbye.”

“It does,” he confirmed, just as softly, his pained gaze trained on the looming shore. “I see it, Tove. I see the flames in the distance. Hear the battle cries. Hear the sobbing of those on my ship as they sailed away.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply before gazing at the shore again. “I feel my grandmother’s hand on my shoulder. Remember trying to hide my tears. To be the warrior and leader my people needed me to be.”

He shook his head and looked at me, confused, his eyes pained. “Yet I never lived any of that, so why…”

“I couldn’t say other than mayhap your soul was torn even as you found your way to me that snowy night.” I traced my finger along his lightning bolt scar. “And then mayhap the polar bear set you on course again…and the gods. Always the gods.”

“Ja,” he murmured, running his fingers along my jawline, letting me see the emotions churning inside him. “And whilst so much heartbreak came from it, so too did much good. Change. Peace and new beginnings.”

“Ja,” I echoed, already knowing what was coming, and so rested his hand on my womb. “New beginnings, indeed, my love. So says our son.”

He inhaled sharply, his pupils flared, and a smile curved his lips, chasing away the shadows that had tried to settle over him.

“You are sure?” he rumbled, his voice thick. “So soon?”

“Very sure.” I placed my hand over his. “As am I that he will be as strong and courageous as the Helvig earls and Thorgard kings before him.”

As if the gods backed my words, a cool wind whipped up, ushering us ashore without issue, and soon enough, he and his people stood upon their ancestral land once more. Though the snow was calf-deep for most, that didn’t bother us. Rather, it felt like home to all, as we set up camp where his tribe once resided, the land abandoned now, and any possible enemy tribes far to our south.

We would spend the night and pay homage to their Thorgard ancestors. Those who had called this land their own for thousands of years.

After building a fire large enough for all to gather around, everyone took turns sharing tales their parents and grandparents had told them of the Thorgard tribe. From battle stories to love stories to everyday life, they brought the tribe that had led all tribes back to life. From great warriors and fierce shield-maidens to heroes born and heroes lost. To mighty Vikings and the ship builders who ensured they could venture to distant shores. The smiths who had forged their steel. The mothers who had tended their children. The farmers who had tilled the land.

Songs were sung, catching on the wind, and carried up to Odin’s ears. Ale was enjoyed. Tears were shed. Laughter rang out.

“Do you see her, my people?” Knud said at one point, slipping his hand into mine as the flames twisted and turned. “Do you see our people on the distant shores of Mann and then those who were here for generations?”

Seeming to understand that our powers would encompass all, I couldn’t help but smile and blink back tears when his grandmother smiled back at us from the flames, along with those we had left behind. Then, beyond them, a couple I knew to be Knud’s parents and the faces of all those lost that fateful day years ago.

For the first time since I met him, I saw a tear leak from the corner of my husband’s eye and squeezed his hand, letting him know I was here, and he was strong.

“’Tis time, my love,” he said roughly, staring into the flames a moment longer before looking at me. “We must take a moment alone…’tis time.”

When my talisman heated again and firelight glinted off the hilt of his blade, I understood.

It was time to return to our beginning.

So, we bid our people a good eve, and he led me past our tent into the woodland. Though the moon hung heavy, swollen, and bright, snow swirled around us as though it fell from above, and drifts grew deeper, bringing back our childhood.

For me, it had been at the Russian border.

For him, right here.

“There,” he said softly, stopping short, his gaze trained on the woodland ahead. “Do you see it?”