Winter Solstice Winter - Book I in the Viking Blood Saga

Sorenhall stood five longhouses from the bay. Small circular wooden tiles coated the sweeping roof, and the body of the abode was made of stacked stones held together by clay. Other than the Fest Hall in Bergendal, Sorenhall was the largest longhouse Ailia had ever seen. Across the courtyard stood a small, wooden hut, and a barn was situated behind it.

  The instant Soren, Ailia, Erlend Jr., and Silya walked through the wooden gate, a blond, middle-aged woman ran toward Erlend Jr., and threw her arms around him.

  “That’s Liv,” Soren whispered to Ailia. A trail of goosebumps went down her spine when his lips touched her earlobe. On the way back to Trollsoe, there had been little privacy as Silya and Erlend Jr. were on the dragonship with them. Soren would steal pecks from Ailia, but she knew he was holding back, not wanting to embarrass her or the others with their display of affection. During the week, whenever he had a chance, he had shared with her stories of their previous lives. She, too, had told him about her life in Bergendal and of how her maredreams had started the day she turned seventeen. She enjoyed their conversations immensely, and they came with the greatest of ease, yet she longed for so much more. More touches. More kisses. More time. With the lightest touch, or the briefest glance, he set her body on fire, and she only imagined how wonderful it would be once they no longer had to restrain their affections.

  “I was worried sick, child,” Liv said, tugging at Erlend Jr.’s brown bear fur coat, her eyes filled with tears and her expression one of horror. “Not a word other than that you thought you had seen Light, and then you vanished as if the sea had swallowed you up whole.”

  “I told Bestfather to tell you,” Erlend Jr. said apologetically.

  Liv gave him a stern look. “Oh, he did tell me, he did, and he told me not to worry my sweet little head, but a mother will worry if her child goes missing for weeks. No man should dare tell a woman to calm down if that happens. And in truth, the old man didn’t know what had become of you. You could have been sold as a slave yourself and I never would have seen you again!”

  “There wasn’t time,” he said. “Ailia was being sold to Vikings and they were just about to set sail.”

  Liv huffed. “I know. I know.” She turned to Ailia. “And I don’t blame you one bit. It’s just how it had to happen.” She glared back at Erlend Jr. “Just promise me, young man, never, ever do it again.”

  “I’m sorry,” Erlend Jr. said.

  Relief washed over her pale, slightly wrinkled face, and as if she had become a completely different person, she offered a scintillating smile. “Now, welcome to our home.” Her barely-there eyebrows wiggled as she spoke in an excited tone of voice, and as she moved with the energy of a five year old. “Please, please come inside. You must all be so very exhausted.”

  Liv wrapped her arm around Ailia’s shoulders and steered her toward the entrance. “I’ve wanted to meet you since the day I was born!”

  Ailia smiled. “And I, you.”

  “Watch your steps,” Liv said as they entered through the door.

  The scent of beef stew filled Ailia’s nostril when she stepped inside. The longhouse was warm and uncommonly light, lit by dozens of lanterns and three hearths: two in the main room, one in the kitchen.

  “Now, there’s an eastern entrance too, but this door is the main one and leads straight into the kitchen. My husband Otto is out fishing today with Erlend Sr., poor guy. Erlend Sr., I mean, not my husband. Erlend can barely keep up these days. You’ll meet them both later. They’re never late for repast.”

  Liv’s casual demeanor helped put Ailia at ease.

  “Now, I always, always speak my mind, whether my words make sense to anyone else or not, so please don’t take anything personally or read too much into it. Sometimes, I cannot even make sense of what I’m saying myself,” Liv said with a chortle.

  Ailia laughed.

  “So, here’s the kitchen and I’ve made beef stew for tonight,” Liv said. “Had I known you were coming, I would have cooked up the fresh salmon, but perhaps we can have that tomorrow. Nevertheless, here’s the pantry and storage room and of course—” she waved them to continue to follow her, “—here is the main room. I’ll have you sleep in here on the benches next to the children over there. Will that suit you? If not, I can—”

  “It will suit us just fine,” Soren said.

  “Or you can sleep in the cot—or, no—I have a better idea,” Liv said, not divulging it, but grinning excitedly.

  Two hearths glowed in the center of the narrow, long room and low-lying platforms lined the walls on either side. The loom and spinning wheel were situated on the left platform next to where the children slept and three longtables decked the platform on the right.

  Soren whispered to Ailia, “If you do not remember, Liv and Alva are our great grandchildren. Liv married Otto and together, they have three young children. Alva married his wife Eira and together they have two children.”

  Ailia nodded. She wanted to meet them, so she could put faces with their names. My children’s children.

  “Ah, there you are!” Liv said, welcoming two men as they stepped in through the door. “Erlend Sr. and Otto, meet Ailia.”

  “I told you your son would be back without a scratch,” Erlend Sr. said when he saw Erlend Jr. “All that worrying for nothing, woman.”

  “Oh, hush, old man,” Liv snapped. “You claim to be clairvoyant, but half the time I think you just pretend to have had a vision so we’ll listen to your nonsense.” But then she offered him a small grin.

  “Erlend Sr., Freydis’s son and the patriarch of the family, is slowing down at the ripe old age of seventy-three,” Soren whispered to Ailia. “And although Liv would never admit to it, he is indeed clairvoyant.”

  Erlend Sr. headed straight toward Ailia and hugged her warmly. “I have been waiting all my life, just so I could meet you,” he said. He resembled Soren in many ways, but was shorter, had wrinkled skin, and had gray hair instead of dark brown.

  “Me too,” Ailia said, tearing up. Freydis’s son.

  Otto embraced her next. “It’s an honor to finally meet you. Please, our home is your home. You are welcome to stay—well, forever if you’d like.” His thick, black beard fluttered when his lips moved and his kind hazel eyes seemed to smile even though his full lips didn’t.

  “Thank you,” Ailia said.

  “Perhaps you’d like to rest a little before repast?” Liv said.

  “That sounds wonderful,” Ailia said, feeling exhausted after the long, hard trip back. Liv showed them to her and Otto’s box bed, and as soon as her head hit the down pillow, Ailia was out.

  * * *