Desire's Hostage: Viking Lore, Book 3 Read Free

was hilly, to be certain, but the jagged ridges of the coastline farther north had smoothed somewhat. Perhaps tucked within these hills were lands flat enough to plow with an ard. Best of all, his initial assessment of the shadowed woods he’d seen from afar had proved good. Just beyond the shoreline, the land was covered in dense forests of oak and pine.
    In the shelter of the bay, he wouldn’t have to fear that his ships would be blown away in a storm. And with the river draining into the salty inlet, they’d never lack fresh water.
    Though his crew likely wasn’t considering the strategic benefits to this location, as he must, they were nevertheless awed into silence. Tearing his gaze away from the green expanse before him, he glanced at Madrena’s ship, which had come to rest against the shore alongside his own.
    Even his twin sister, who had a knife for a tongue and wits to match, stood in slack-jawed amazement at their surroundings.
    “This will do,” Alaric said softly under his breath. A sudden and deep swell of pride jolted through him. This land promised a bounty unknown in the Northlands. Here lay his future as leader to these Northland explorers turned settlers.
    Alaric launched himself over his ship’s gunwale and landed with a splash in the shallow water. He waded toward the shoreline, eager to be the first of the Northlanders to touch dry earth. Several more splashes sounded behind him as the others made their way after him.
    Just then, a flicker of movement in the trees ahead had Alaric jerking his head up.
    The shore rose into a small but densely forested hill. A flash of red stood out amongst all the greens and browns.
    An animal? The reddish color blurred as it darted away. What strange beasts might inhabit these woods? Laurel hadn’t mentioned any creatures so different from what he’d encountered in the Northlands. And the red blur had moved more like…
    The woods were still once more. The splashes of his crew and their excited chatter drowned out any sounds drifting out of the forest.
    Unease trickled down Alaric’s spine. Were they being watched? Surely if there were other people living in these parts, they wouldn’t have had time to form an attack.
    Alaric nearly impaled his sister when she placed a hand on his shoulder. He quickly shoved his half-drawn sword back into its leather scabbard before he spooked the others, but Madrena’s pale eyes were too sharp.
    “What is it?” she said, her posture suddenly matching his. Madrena was one of the most skilled shieldmaidens—nei, warriors , male or female—in the crew, and perhaps in all the western Northlands. She’d already reached for the sword belted on her hip, her eyes searching Alaric.
    “Naught, I’m sure,” he said levelly, trying to soothe his unease. “A trick of the light. Or an animal. This new land simply has me…on edge.” He kept his voice low so as not to alarm the rest of his crew.
    Just then, Rúnin stepped to Madrena’s side. His sister’s mate had just as sharp an eye as Madrena. Though Alaric trusted his sister unquestioningly, he was even more confident that Rúnin would warn them if he sensed another presence in these woods. Rúnin’s long years as an outlaw had forged him into a man who seemed to instinctively know when others were nigh—his life had depended on it.
    “All is well,” Alaric said before Rúnin could ask. “I don’t want the men panicking.”
    Rúnin’s bright blue eyes narrowed on Alaric slightly, clearly comprehending Alaric’s implication. All might not be well, and they should keep a keen eye pointed toward the woods, but ’twould be best not to raise an alarm just yet.
    The crew had busied themselves in pulling both longships more fully onto the narrow beach. Though they were all strong Northland men—plus a strong Northland woman, Eyva, who was training to be a shieldmaiden under Madrena’s guidance—they struggled with the large ships. Each longship could have held twice as