Anna Markland - Viking Roots Medieval Romance Saga 02 Read Free Page A

Christians.
    He fell asleep, lost in his dream.

    Cathryn wasn’t sure what woke her. The chamber was in darkness. Had her child cried out? She held her breath, listening, reassured by the faint snoring of her husband. But she was alone in the bed.
    She eased up on her elbows and peered into the gloom, gradually making out Bryk sleeping in a nearby chair. Her heart caught in her throat at the sight of her tiny son sprawled across his father’s chest, held firm by her husband’s massive hand on his bottom. She gasped when she caught sight of the tiny flute in his other hand, recalling the first time he’d shown it to her in the hours after Rouen had fallen to the Vikings. She’d known then she loved him.
    As if he sensed she’d awakened, the babe cried out. Bryk stirred. “What is it, little Viking?” he murmured. “Hungry? Let’s see if your mama is awake.”
    He brought the child to her, brushing the tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You’re crying?” he asked.
    She took the baby and exposed her breast. He fussed for a few moments before latching on. She looked back at her husband. “They are tears of happiness. I love you, but I wish you didn’t have to go back to the war. I’m afraid. What will become of me and Magnus if anything happens to you?”
    He shrugged, sitting down carefully on the stool he’d occupied earlier, his gaze fixed on the suckling infant. “Don’t worry. Hrolf makes sure I’m not in the vanguard.” He looked up to the rafters. “Sorry, I mean Rollo . Our chieftain rants if we call him by his Norse name. He insists we address him as Rollo, Duke of the Norsemen.”
    “Well, it was the name he took at his baptism,” she replied.
    “You’re right, but all my life I’ve called him Hrolf. And a few other less pleasant names.”
    She knew of his despair when Hrolf had shunned his sister because her husband had turned his back on raiding. Racked with shame, Myldryd had taken her own life. “But the two of you are reconciled. He knows you are one of his most worthy lieutenants. He relies on you and doesn’t want to see you killed.”
    Bryk shook his head. “It’s my belief you are the reason he wants to make sure I return from the campaign in one piece.”
    “Me?”
    “Rollo’s wife has plans to usher you into her inner circle.”
    It was laughable. “Poppa the Haughty wants me in her inner circle? I doubt it. I’m a foundling, a nobody.”
    Bryk yawned. “Not any more. She knows she would likely be dead were it not for your bravery when you were both captured by the Franks. Then, when the Archbishop revealed the circumstances of your birth and why you and your twin brother were left on the doorstep of the abbey convent, you suddenly became worthy in her eyes. You’re the niece of an Archbishop.”
    Misgivings caused a pulse to throb at Cathryn’s temple. “Am I now worthy of you?”
    Bryk traced his finger over her knee beneath the linens. “You know I loved you the moment I first set eyes on you, Cathryn. It’s true I struggled for a while with the notion of marrying a captive. It’s forbidden in Viking law. But I soon realized I didn’t want to live without you, and I was never comfortable with the prospect of making you my thrall.”
    Her heart lifted. She fluttered her eyelashes. “But I am your thrall.”
    As the first streaks of dawn crept into the chamber, she saw the glint in his eye.
    “And I am your slave, Cathryn Kriger,” he rasped.
    Mention of slaves brought Torstein to mind. She carefully shifted the babe to the other nipple, wondering if she should bring up the subject of the young man. “What will happen to your nephew?”
    Bryk yawned again. “Which one? I have several. Alfred does have quite a brood.”
    She pouted. “You’re avoiding the question. You’re aware which nephew I’m referring to.”
    He raked a hand through his hair. “To be honest, I’m not sure. Vikings have a saying. ‘ Never take a thrall as a friend .’”
    Pity