War Raven: Barbarian of Rome Chronicles Volume One Read Free

ranging from fair to red in colour, with many evidencing the fierce blue eyes common to their race. His own brown eyes and hair was unusual amongst his people, and his drinking companions often joked that it was a throw-back to a liaison between one of his great grand-dames and some visiting trader from the south, where the dusky trait was more prominent.
    Drawing near to the long-house, he recognised Roth, his father, standing at the entrance with arms folded. His face betrayed no emotion as the noisy entourage approached. Guntram extracted himself from under the weight of his companion’s arm and presented himself before his father, a wide grin creasing his face.
    Roth held up his hand for silence before stating, “I thought some wild spirit of the forest had waylaid you boy.” His hair flamed red in the torchlight. “What kept you?”
    Guntram’s smile quickly faded as he regarded his father’s stern countenance and creased brow, managing only, “Father, I...” A childhood memory jumped into his mind of his father scolding him for forgetting to feed the livestock, of his voice booming like thunder during a storm. Patience always followed the older man’s temper, although his displeasure was terrible to behold.
    “Enough!” his father continued. “Your mother was sure that some great bear had eaten you, despite Barend telling her that your bones were too skinny for even a small bear to feast on.” Strong yellowed teeth flashed in the ruddy face, a smile emerging. “Come in boy. You have a tale to tell no doubt. And you’d better embrace your mother, because her dark looks and worrying talk has driven me mad while you’ve been gone.”
    Roth placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently as he ushered him over the thresh-hold. He glanced up at his father’s face, the pride and relief plain to see. He was immediately embraced by Ilse, his mother. Her pale blue eyes on a level with his own, she placed her hands on either side of his face and whispered, “Welcome home my son.” The words sent a lump into his throat.
    Looking down, he saw that his little sister, Faiga, had wrapped her arms clam-like around his legs. Gently untangling himself from the infant’s grasp he lifted her giggling above his head. She was a rare beauty, and he smiled, knowing that she would break many a warrior’s heart when she grew to maturity. He swore that he’d let nothing happen to her, as it had to slain Volkar. He lowered her to ground and she was quickly shepherded away by his mother.
    His brother, Strom, was the next to embrace him. The slim youth was as different to him as water was to fire, having inherited their mother’s colouring and even temper. Strom was kind, thoughtful and wise beyond his years. He hated the ways of war. Guntram was very proud of him, knowing that his people needed those who were wise in the ways of peace as well as war. Guntram ruffled his hair, commenting in his usual fashion on just how much he’d grown in the short time he’d been away.
    As his eyes searched the room, he felt a little anxious, and then he saw her. Jenell was helping the women prepare food. Her hair hung to her waist in two, thick braids the colour of burnished copper. She gave him a small wave and a smile, and his heart thrummed faster. They’d been lovers for almost a year. Jenell was a tender and a caring friend and Guntram believed that he’d always loved her. Returning the smile, he quickly crossed the room to her.
    She greeted him with a soft kiss on his lips. He held her hands in his own.
    “Jenell.” He spoke her name quietly.
    “Yes, my love.”
    “While away, I . . .”
    “Don’t say it,” she whispered.
    “Why?”
    “You don’t need to tell me how you feel.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “There’ll be time, after.”
    “Yes,” he confirmed. His face flushed hot as he looked forward to later that night when she would lie in his arms. There’d be time to talk, and to share his fears.
    Jenell