He swallowed and looked away from her. “I’ve seen what comes of too much involvement with the gods. Even as Eirik stayed the winter with us in Thorsfjell, I saw how he was pulled between Odin and Thor, but he balanced them within him. I don’t have that knowledge. I know only the steel of my blade and the silver of my coins.”
“Thorsfjell, Thor’s Mountain. Even your home bears his name, and yet, to you, it is just a name. The gods’ power slides past you, never going more than skin deep. Instead of their voices, all you hear is the clink of coins.” Her heart sank. Just as he had watched her this past week, so she had been aware of him. And her dreams at night... But it could not be. She wasn’t meant for the hearth, a husband, and children. And even if she were to follow that path, this irreverent warrior was not for her. They walked in two different worlds.
Her soul twisting, she tried to rush past him, but he caught her by the arm. A spark shot between them and she gasped. His eyes widened and he let her go.
“No man may touch me,” she said. “I am meant for the gods. They saved me this past winter from the marauders.”
“Then they know I pose no such threat to you, Silvi. Just understand that while you dream, enemies could overrun you, as Hakon and his outlaws did last winter.”
“The runes will warn me.”
“As they did then?”
She firmed her resolve. “The runes showed my mother and me that we’d know great change and loss. It was our own shortcoming preventing us from understanding what the gods tried to tell us.”
“And yet, for all your efforts, the gods took your father, and so many of your warriors and people.”
“My father was weakened from the wasting disease. He died in battle with a sword in his hand, as a warrior would want, instead of as a shell of a man wasting away on his sickbed. In that, the gods blessed him. At the moment of our births, the Norns decree when we each will die. No one, not even the gods themselves, can stop that. It was their time. In all else, the gods will provide.”
“The gods favor the strong.” His voice was sharp, like the honed edge of his blade. “Don’t forget, the blood of warriors guards you. Silver gives you the privilege of food in your belly and a warm house in which to dream your dreams. All the gods do is watch us from Asgard in the same way we watch ants scurrying on the ground.”
A shadow came over them as a cloud hid the sun. Were the gods displeased at his words? Silvi shook her head at his blindness. If he did not recognize the gods, as he should, how could they bless him? How could they smile on him if he didn’t look up to see them? He was lost, like a ship at sea without a sail, and he didn’t even know it. She raised her hand toward his arm, then dropped it to her side without touching him. “There’s an imbalance in you, Magnus. The answer is not one thing or the other, but a mix of our world and that of the gods.”
He gave her a gentle smile and looked into her eyes, something no man except her brother could do. “Then you should heed your own wisdom, Silvi. I know you want to go to Uppsala to become one of the priestesses there. Where’s the balance in that? You shun the things of this world, seeking only the starlit realms. Your beauty will be wasted there among the men who dance like women. The strength I’ve seen in you these past days will thin into insipid chants and rituals.” He lifted his hand to her cheek but didn’t touch it. Yet she trembled as though he had. He stepped back and took a deep breath. “Perhaps you’re right. I shouldn’t be here. Not with the thoughts I have in my mind. Thor’s bolt will find me if I remain here any longer.”
She watched him as he strode out of the grove toward the village. He was strong, beautiful, deep, like the roots of his mountain. Crystals sparkled in his blue eyes, his hair was like the night caressing the slopes of his shoulders. The gods had been so pleased when they’d created him that they’d made another who looked like him—his twin brother, Leif. Leif was the breeze swirling up the sides of the mountains in the spring, light and free, to careen off the peaks and be gone, uncatchable.
Magnus bore the weight of that mountain. His people, his trading business, his world. He deserved a woman who could be a true wife to him, seeing to his people while he was gone, ruling over the household, warming his bed and bearing his children.
Her body clenched. He was everything any woman wanted in a husband. But she was not just any woman. She must keep remembering that.
Photo by Charles Bowles
Sabrina Jarema lives near Ocala, Florida, the Horse Capital of the World. She has a herd of fat, lazy Arabians on forty beautiful acres. She also breeds and shows white German shepherd dogs and currently has several Grand Victrixes taking over her house. She’s joined by a menagerie of tortoises, turtles, birds, fish, and cats. To avoid farm work as much as possible, she loses herself in the worlds she creates through the novels she writes, her art, music, dollhouses, and jewelry. She has worked as a professional fantasy illustrator and has written fantasy romance for many years. Recently, she has branched out into historical romances set in the early Viking era. She is currently writing the Viking Lords series, a family saga set in Norway during the ninth century. She is an active member of the Tampa Area Romance Authors chapter of the Romance Writers of America. Please visit her websites at www.authorsabrinajarema.com and www.sabrinajarema.com.to enjoy her art, music, writing, jewelry, and all the other visions the night brings to her.
LORD OF THE RUNES
In this exciting new series, the dramatic world of the Vikings is brought to life in vivid, historical detail. As brave warriors fight to defend family honor and tradition, they discover unexpected passion with memorable women who only further their resolve for justice . . .
Following his father’s murder, Eirik Ivarson plunges into a maelstrom of brutal warfare. As outsiders threaten his homeland and all he holds dear, Eirik vows to maintain his focus and avenge the jarl’s death. In his quest for revenge, he will leave everything behind, all he knows, and all he loves.
Asa Sigrundsdottir, a spirited shieldmaiden with warm brown eyes, is wary of the golden-haired warrior discovered half-frozen in a storm. It is clear Eirik is a man of valor, bestowed with the gift of reading runes and destined for greatness. And despite the shadows in her past, he chooses her to help him on his journey. But when their bond is tested, it will take the strength of a hero to keep their love alive...
Lord of the Seas Page 30
