Winter Solstice Winter - Book I in the Viking Blood Saga
Lucia trailed behind Soren, who rode Volomite and Lucia’s horse senseless. The guilt nearly burned a hole in her chest, and now it was official: she was a fraud of a woman. They stopped only occasionally for water for the horses and nothing else. Silence burned her ears and not even the pounding hooves of the horses drowned out the annihilating blizzard she felt coming from him. She suspected he wanted to hear nothing from her, yet she wanted to confess to him everything that had made her come to the decision to deceive him. Volomite seemed to be trained well, but Lucia’s horse had a hard time keeping up with the fast, furious pace Soren was setting, panting and sweating, nearly stumbling forward.
In front of them, in the moonlight, another rider stood on the side of the road. As they approached, she saw that it was Silya. She did not want to face her—not at all.
Silya looked as if she was waiting for something or someone, or as if she was uncertain of what to do.
Maybe she is waiting for us? she thought.
“What brings you in this direction?” Soren asked as they neared her, their breaths now mingling in the dark, smoking up the chilling air.
“I was following you. There has been a severe violation of trust, an illegitimate theft of identity—” Silya looked at Lucia sternly, her eyes piercing right through her. “Lucia is—”
“Yes, Lucia told me everything,” Soren said plainly and without even a hint of emotion.
She cringed at his words.
“I am heading back to Ailia. Have the Vikings entered Bergendal?” he asked.
“Not that I know of, but I did see some traces of other Viking activity nearby,” Silya said.
Lucia’s arms folded tightly in front of her chest as if that would protect her somehow. Suddenly, she heard a sound. “What is that?” she asked surprised. “It sounds like a crying baby.” The helpless screams came from the woods.
“It is a Viking child,” Silya said coldly. “His mother died.”
“You already checked on him?” Lucia asked. How could she be so calloused? She hopped off her horse.
“Leave him be,” Silya said more coldly this time. “He is a Viking.”
“We cannot just leave him here to die. It is not his fault his parents are Vikings,” Lucia said.
“Never mind that now. He has no right to live, a babe with Viking blood running through his veins,” Silya said angrily, though not quite convincing. “It is hard enough to listen to the incessant cries without you complaining.” She rolled her dark brown eyes. “Fine, you go get him, but I want nothing to do with him, you hear? He will be your responsibility and yours alone.”
“I am amazed that you have such a hard heart for this abandoned, vulnerable creature,” Lucia snapped.
“You are not one to speak,” Silya said, moving closer to Lucia.
Soren stepped between the two women. “There is nothing we can do now to change what has happened.”
Lucia headed as quickly as she could toward the screaming child, stepping in the tracks Silya had made before her. She heard Soren speak to Silya as she walked off.
“I need to get to Ailia so I am going to leave Lucia with you. I will meet you back in Bergendal,” he said.
The closer Lucia came to the infant, the less she could hear Soren’s voice beneath the cries. Between the snow-covered trees, she saw the wagon and, then, the moving bundle on the mother’s stiff corpse. Her heart ached for both of them.
“There now, sweet one. I am here,” she said kneeling down beside the babe. His hands were flailing, and he had almost kicked his blanket off. He is so small an innocent. How could Silya leave him here to die? She scooped the infant up and swaddled him in the blanket. Pressing him against her body, she rocked back and forth.
“I will not abandon you,” she whispered. Her heart warmed at her own words, and she suddenly realized that this was why she had to leave Bergendal. Finding the child—saving this boy—it was her fate! Had she not come here, she would not have discovered the child. The gods have brought me him, she thought. It is a sign from the gods! A new beginning. Her new life would start now, she decided. The babe fussed for a while longer and then he settled into a low whimper. Looking back toward the road, she thought, I could leave now. Run into the woods and never come back. However, she felt the risk was too great now that she had a child to look after and with the Vikings still raiding the area. I will wait to leave until I am back in Bergendal.
When she arrived back by the road, Soren had already disappeared. Lucia was both relieved and disappointed.
“So, you got hold of the Viking?” Silya said.
“Yes.”
“He is all yours. Do not bother me with him.” They mounted their horses. “What will you name the berserker?” Silya asked before they rode.
“A name fit for a king.”
Silya scoffed. “The mother was a bloodthirsty Viking named Ava, and she told me before she died that the child’s father is a king. Probably a king of the Vikings.”
Ava? Lucia had recently heard that name before. Was that not the name of my father’s mistress, the one Vilda spoke about? The babe cannot be his. And there were many women named Ava, she knew. However, she could not help but wonder.
“His name shall be Harald.” My little ruler.
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