Tyra & Bjorn (Viking Glory Book 3)

by Celeste Barclay

  “What shall we name him,” his voice hushed so he would not disturb their newborn.

  “Jan. Jan Bjornsson,” Tyra brushed her lips against the downy head of blond curls.

  “Are you sure?” Bjorn was in awe of his wife’s strength and bravery. Now she wanted to name their child after his father.

  “I’ve been considering it for a while. It’s just right, now that the three of us are together.”

  Bjorn looked up as Lena brought a clean nightgown to Tyra. He had not noticed her moving about, cleaning the bedding, or bathing Tyra. He was in a world comprised of only him, his wife, and Jan.

  “Thank you,” Bjorn kissed Tyra’s temple before giving his son his first kiss.

  Lena slipped from the longhouse without either parent noticing. They were too busy cooing over the evidence that the gods and fate had planned for them to be together all along.

  Thank you for reading Tyra & Bjorn

  Celeste Barclay, a nom de plume, lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. Growing up in the Midwest, Celeste enjoyed spending as much time in and on the water as she could. Now she lives near the beach. She's an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former rower. When she's not writing, she's working or being a mom.

  Visit Celeste’s website, www.celestebarclay.com, for regular updates on works in progress, new releases, and her blog where she features posts about her experiences as an author and recommendations of her favorite reads.

  Are you an author who would like to guest blog or be featured in her recommendations? Visit her website for an opportunity to share your insights and experiences.

  Have you read Their Highland Beginning, The Clan Sinclair Prequel? Learn how the saga begins! This FREE novella is available to all new subscribers to Celeste’s monthly newsletter. Subscribe on her website.

  www.celestebarclay.com

  Join the fun and get exclusive insider giveaways, sneak peeks, and new release announcements in

  Celeste Barclay’s Facebook Ladies of Yore Group

  Viking Glory

  Leif

  BOOK 1 SNEAK PEEK

  Leif looked around his chambers within his father’s longhouse and breathed a sigh of relief. He noticed the large fur rugs spread throughout the chamber. His two favorites placed strategically before the fire and the bedside he preferred. He looked at his shield that hung on the wall near the door in a symbolic position but waiting at the ready. The chests that held his clothes and some of his finer acquisitions from voyages near and far sat beside his bed and along the far wall. And in the center was his most favorite possession. His oversized bed was one of the few that could accommodate his long and broad frame. He shook his head at his longing to climb under the pile of furs and on the stuffed mattress that beckoned him. He took in the chair placed before the fire where he longed to sit now with a cup of warm mead. It had been two months since he slept in his own bed, and he looked forward to nothing more than pulling the furs over his head and sleeping until he could no longer ignore his hunger. Alas, he would not be crawling into his bed again for several more hours. A feast awaited him to celebrate his and his crew’s return from their latest expedition to explore the isle of Britannia. He bathed and wore fresh clothes, so he had no excuse for lingering other than a bone weariness that set in during the last storm at sea. He was eager to spend time at home no matter how much he loved sailing. Their last expedition had been profitable with several raids of monasteries that yielded jewels and both silver and gold, but he was ready for respite.

  Leif left his chambers and knocked on the door next to his. He heard movement on the other side, but it was only moments before his sister, Freya, opened her door. She, too, looked tired but clean. A few pieces of jewelry she confiscated from the holy houses that allegedly swore to a life of poverty and deprivation adorned her trim frame.

  “That armband suits you well. It compliments your muscles,” Leif smirked and dodged a strike from one of those muscular arms.

  Only a year younger than he, his sister was a well-known and feared shield maiden. Her lithe form was strong and agile making her a ferocious and competent opponent to any man. Freya’s beauty was stunning, but Leif had taken every opportunity since they were children to tease her about her unusual strength even among the female warriors.

  “At least one of us inherited our father’s prowess. Such a shame it wasn’t you.”

  Freya

  BOOK 2 SNEAK PEEK

  “Does he have nothing better to do than stare?” Freya huffed as she and Tyra left the training field.

  Freya Ivarsdóttir was a renowned and much feared shieldmaiden and the daughter of a jarl. At twenty-four years old, she had already spent half of her life training and raiding with her Norse tribe.

  Tyra looked back over her shoulder and scanned the field of battling Norsemen as they trained. As Freya’s best friend, Tyra was used to Freya’s sometimes brittle disposition, and she knew when her friend was hiding something. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The ongoing skirmishes against their neighbors and the general way of life in the northern Trondelag meant the men and women tasked with defending their tribes trained daily. Tyra watched as they swung axes, swords thrust, and spears hurled. She looked around at the many longhouses that created the perimeter of the homestead. Women stood outside doing laundry, one woman swept dust out her front door, and several people stood around engaged in easy conversation.

  “I don’t see anyone. Well, maybe a ghost from your past, but he’s watched you for years.”

  “What? No. Wait, what do you mean he’s watched me for years?”

  “Ever since the two of you a few summers ago--- Well, you know. Skellig’s had his eye on you, and I think you broke his heart. I believe he’s hoping for more than just a reunion under the furs.”

  “Never.”

  “Then who could you have meant?” Tyra smirked before adding in a sing-song voice, “Erik?”

  The Clan Sinclair

  His Highland Lass

  BOOK 1 SNEAK PEEK

  She entered the great hall like a strong spring storm in the northern most Highlands. Tristan Mackay felt like he had been blown hither and yon. As the storm settled, she left him with the sweet scents of heather and lavender wafting towards him as she approached. She was not a classic beauty, tall and willowy like the women at court. Her face and form were not what legends were made of. But she held a unique appeal unlike any he had seen before. He could not take his eyes off of her long chestnut hair that had strands of fire and burnt copper running through them. Unlike the waves or curls he was used to, her hair was unusually straight and fine. It looked like a waterfall cascading down her back. While she was not tall, neither was she short. She had a figure that was meant for a man to grasp and hold onto, whether from the front or from behind. She had an aura of confidence and charm, but not arrogance or conceit like many good looking women he had met. She did not seem to know her own appeal. He could tell that she was many things, but one thing she was not was his.

  His Bonnie Highland Temptation

  BOOK 2 SNEAK PEEK

  The pounding in Callum’s head as he awoke made him wonder if he had been mistaken for the blacksmith’s anvil. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked over at the curvaceous blonde sleeping next to him. The previous night began to drift through his memory. His father, Liam Sinclair the chief of Clan Sinclair, had announced less than a sennight night ago that not only had he arranged a betrothal for Callum, his heir and tánaiste, but that the woman would be arriving before the sennight was over. She was expected some time late this day, so last night he had celebrated his upcoming nuptials by drowning his sorrows in more drams of whisky than he could remember and taking his current lover to bed for a night of entertainment and pleasure. He had been very sure to tell Elizabeth that this was his last night of freedom and that their short, albeit passionate, liaison was coming to an end. While Callum Sinclair may have enjoyed more than a few women’s attention and c
onsidered himself a well experienced lover, he was also a man committed to fidelity to his wife. Whomever she might be.

  His Highland Prize

  3 SNEAK PEEK

  I just need to make it to the light. Heavenly Father, please let there be a light over this hill. I canna go much farther. I must go farther. Will there never be a village or a keep nearby? I dinna think I will last much longer. Please, in the name of the Father and all the heavenly saints, just let me find someone who can help me.

  Brighde Kerr pushed her sopping wet hair from her eyes as she stumbled onward. She had lost her shoes days ago after they had fallen apart while on the run from her pursuers. Her kirtle, which had once been a daffodil yellow was now a murky shade of beige with a ripped sleeve, frayed hem, and at least two holes that she had noticed in the skirts. Brighde ached all over. Her feet were raw from walking and running for nearly two weeks. Her legs protested taking even one more step, and her chest burned from trying to breathe through her efforts and the torrential downpour in which she once again found herself.

  Light! I’m sure of it. I can finally see it coming from a keep. Dear God above, please allow me in. I just need---

  His Highland Pledge

  BOOK 4 SNEAK PEEK

  Magnus Sinclair detested being at the royal court. There was nothing redeemable in his eyes, and his face ensured everyone knew the Highland giant was not there to exchange pleasantries. Standing at six and a half feet tall, he towered over almost every man in the king’s household and all the men who sought the monarch’s attention. Only a few visiting Highlanders mirrored him in height and physique. As though sticking out like a sore thumb from his height and his insistence upon wearing his plaid was not enough, he felt naked without his claymore. Locked away in his chamber, his two-handed broadsword was as much a part of him as either hand. For the safety of the king and his family, they allowed no one to wear or carry a sword into the main gathering hall. Magnus’s sword forged to accommodate his size, and even though custom designed, the enormous sword looked like little more than a young lad’s wooden practice sword when Magnus held it. Needless to say, it was not a welcome sight strapped to his back. When he arrived the day before, he resigned himself to just carrying his dirks, of which he had at least eight on various parts of his body.

  Arriving early the previous morning, Magnus spent all of the day and much of the evening in a passageway, standing, awaiting an audience with the king. This day came and went, just as the previous one had, with no indicator of when the king would meet with him. This only aggravated Magnus more as a representative from the Sinclair clan summoned rather than volunteered to attend court.

  His Highland Surprise

  BOOK 5 SNEAK PEEK

  Tavish Sinclair stood frozen in the Great Hall of his clan's keep as he listened to his father.

  "Ye canna be serious!" He realized his voice was quiet as he spoke to Laird Liam Sinclair, but in his head, it was a roar. "I dinna need a wife. I dinna want a wife."

  Tavish's body was so still he looked like a statue carved from marble, his expression like a death mask.

  He canna mean it. I simply flirted one too many times with the elder man's daughter, Isabella. I will stay away and then this nonsense will pass.

  "It isnae aboot Isabella or any of the local lasses ye ken so well. The king has decreed that I must make a match between our clans. Ye are the older of ma two unmarried sons. The duty falls to ye."

  "But Magnus is already at court."

  He recognized he sounded petulant, but Tavish Sinclair was a confirmed bachelor. He never intended to settle down with one woman. The Sinclair men, once their oath made, never were unfaithful to their wives. He refused to make that traditional vow, so instead he avoided marriage like it were a fire sweeping through hay.

  "Aye, Magnus is at court. And taking far longer than expected. I worry something befell him. The king's message was rather cryptic on that front. I would have ye go to court and see that yer brother fares well, and while there, ye can meet the lass. Ye ken I will force none of ye into an unhappy marriage. I ask only that ye meet her. See if ye suit."

  Their Bonnie Highland Beginning

  BOOK 6 SNEAK PEEK

  “Da, it's nae too late to call this off. I dinna have to marry some Sutherland chit to end the feud. We cede them that rocky patch near the border Grandfather won from the Gunns. They gain the plot, and we call it a day. Or better yet, we call Dugan home from fostering, and ma baby brother can marry her."

  "Ye ken the contracts have been signed by both me and the lass's father. Laird Sutherland wouldnae stand for ye setting her aside, and I willna either. I dinna understand yer objection. Ye're of an age to wed, and ye must have heirs the same as I did. She may vera well surprise ye. Yer mother did."

  "Ye and Mama were a love match. It wasna a surprise to anyone when ye wed. Or that I arrived nearly nine moons later to the day."

  "Dinna be cheeky. Ye're nae too old or too big for me to skelp yer arse. "

  That should have been enough of a warning for Liam Sinclair, heir to his father, Laird Donnell Sinclair. But on this day, he had his dander up. His father announced his betrothal a moon ago, and the woman was set to arrive at any minute.

  "How old is she anyway?"

  "She's close in age to yer score and four summers. She's a score and two."

  "More than a score and she isnae wed yet? What's wrong with her? Does she have warts and claws? Mayhap missing a few teeth? She certainly sounds a bit long in the tooth. Da, look at me. I am vera serious. Mayhap she--"

  A very soft and a very decidedly feminine clearing of the throat came from behind him. Liam froze before taking a deep breath and turning around. The sight that greeted him made the air whoosh from him, and he felt as if he had been pole-axed in the gut. The woman who stood before him was more than bonnie, she was beautiful. Liam took in the jet-black hair and bright lapis lazuli blue eyes. There was a faint dimple in her left cheek, and her eyebrows looked like they were sketched in by a master artisan. Her nose was short and soft at the end. She was not very tall, and Liam was sure she would barely come to the center of his chest when he held her.