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Erik dropped his drinking vessel as if it burned his hand, eyeing him angrily. “Utakknemlig halve rasen. Gjenta det du nettopp spurt.”

A hush fell over the great hall.

Marteinn fisted his hands at his sides. Unaccustomed to being called a half breed, he composed himself, despite the insult. “I ask to be released from my duties.”

“Why?”

If he answered truthfully, Erik and Jarl McNally would challenge him to einvigi. Honor prevailed in this household as it did throughout the pagan northlands. If he publicly confessed he still loved Kara, her reputation would be compromised, and he couldn’t stomach dueling with Erik. “I want to return to my homeland, to search for my kinsmen.”

Erik slammed his fists on the table. “Amongst the Christian pigs? Do you know how many of Odin’s sons and daughters were slaughtered in Iceland? Your own mother fled in hopes of saving your life. Is this how you repay her bravery?”

“This has nothing to do with my mother. I’m a free man—entitled to leave whenever I choose. Out of respect for you and your family …” Guard dropped momentarily, his gaze met Kara’s. “I think it best I forge my own destiny. For too long I’ve lived under your protection. I must earn a name for myself.”

He tried to ignore the murmurs spiraling around him. He overheard several comments—most questioning his sanity.

“Perhaps you were deprived of too much air when the Saami knocked you off your blasted feet,” Erik hissed.

Marteinn sighed. Public chastisement wouldn’t change his mind. “I think and see with more clarity than I ever have before.”

“It makes no sense.” Erik rubbed his chin, tugging on the end of his beard as he often did when he grew angry or frustrated. “Forget the demand I made earlier, remain unmarried if it pleases you. I was only thinking of your future happiness. Children give men hope and a reason to live. Perhaps I misjudged your needs. Serving me is a better choice for you, until you’ve reached full maturity.”

Erik was negotiating and doing a poor job. Marteinn stifled his laughter. Did his lord not think he wanted a family of his own? He scanned the hall, memories of his childhood flooding his mind. He couldn’t live here anymore. “A hundred men resting under sod attest to my level of competence. This has nothing to do with happiness, but everything to do with my honor.”

“There’s no one in this room who’d dare question your honor.” Erik glanced at his eldest son. “Attest to his place amongst us, Geilir. Tell him.”

“My father speaks truth, you are my brother.”

“In name only,” Marteinn snapped, losing patience. He’d expected some resistance at first, but Jarl Erik had resorted to name calling, and now begging. “My mind is set.”

“Please reconsider.” Kara’s voice sliced through the dead silence.

“Tis not your place to speak.” Erik glared at his daughter.

Kara’s cheeks turned as red as pomegranates. “He’s as much a brother to me as he is to Geilir. I will not remain silent while Marteinn destroys his future. His place is here.”

The captain covered his face with both hands. Kara knew no boundaries, and if the household maids were given to gossip before, her latest outburst would spark scandal. “I appreciate your concern, sister.” There, he’d finally done it, called her the one name he’d refused to before. “Nothing will sway me.”

“Unless you consider my offer.” Tyr Sigurdsson stood.

The crowd hummed with chatter.

Marteinn knew the longer he stayed, the greater his chances of never leaving. Why would Tyr interfere? Although he preferred to speak in private with Erik, he was curious what the arrogant jarl had to say.

“Speak freely.” Erik nodded solemnly at his guest.

Tyr addressed Marteinn. “Put off your voyage to Iceland for a year. We’re in dire need of trained soldiers in the Trondelag—the Christians are once again buying lands and raising their crosses. If you’ll agree, I’ll be happy to appoint you as one of my captains. It’s an opportunity for generous pay and possibly your own land. If at the end of your contract you still wish to travel to your birthplace, I’ll commission one of my ships to take you.”

Lands for himself? A place to call home? He didn’t know how to respond.

“There are plenty of able-bodied men in the Trondelag to recruit,” Erik said.

“The political tides are shifting quickly again,” Tyr explained. “Even Jarl McNally has been called back to service.”

Erik looked at his son-in-law.

“It is true,” Aaron confirmed. “The king has ordered me to stop uprisings at any cost.”

“Bloody White Christ!” Erik bellowed. “They’ll have us all on our knees confessing before Ragnarok comes.”