Anna Markland - Viking Roots Medieval Romance Saga 02 by The Rover Defiant

there was no anger in his eyes. “Beware, Torstein, I had your father over my knee more than once and whacked his arse good when he was insolent.”
    Mention of Gunnar produced a maelstrom of confused emotions. He’d grieved with his mother when his father had drowned, though he didn’t understand why. The man had never shown either of them any love. But the notion of his uncle smacking his father’s arse amused him. He’d wager there’d been wailing and howling in protest.
    His gut twisted when it dawned on him this was the first time his uncle had addressed him directly by name without it being an order from master to slave. “I wouldn’t recommend trying it with me,” he replied, raising his sword and bracing for an angry backlash.
    But his uncle smiled and sheathed his weapon. “Maybe not,” he chuckled, eyeing Torstein’s sword. “Enough for today. Same time on the morrow. Keep the weapon until we can get you a better one. In a fortnight you’ll accompany the army to the west.”
    He watched his uncle stride off, at once elated and terrified. One thing was certain. He must be sure of Sonja’s feelings before he left. If she cared for him he would defy convention to win her.

LUNACY
    Perplexed that she was alarmingly jealous watching her sister nursing Ida, Sonja swallowed her pride and tried again. “But consider it, Ingeborg. Your baby and Magnus Kriger were born on the same day. It’s a wonderful opportunity to form a friendship, and perhaps a new alliance.”
    She inhaled deeply to calm her racing heart when Olga indicated her agreement. “Sonja is right. The Krigers are powerful and have Rollo’s ear.”
    But she wondered what her mother had been told when she scowled at her and added, “And we have to make amends for your sister’s strange behavior. Apparently, she came close to dropping the Kriger baby.”
    Ingeborg pouted, though the glint in her eye betrayed her pleasure at Sonja’s discomfort. “But I’m older than she is. Perhaps she doesn’t want new friends.”
    Sonja resisted the temptation to throttle her sister. It was true the vibrant Cathryn had nothing in common with the bland Ingeborg, but she mustn’t reveal her plan—to nurture a friendship between herself and Bryk Kriger’s wife. She didn’t fully understand why she pursued such thoughts. She had repeated over and over in her mind that befriending Cathryn was the goal, but her heart knew the truth. She had to see Torstein again.
    It was lunacy.
    “I’ll send a message, asking her to visit us on the morrow,” her mother said.
    “We must go there,” Sonja blurted out without thinking. It was unlikely Torstein would accompany Cathryn on a visit to Karl Ragnarsen’s home.
    Her mother arched a brow. “We can’t invite ourselves to the Archbishop’s residence.”
    “Mother is correct,” Ingeborg said, unexpectedly showing enthusiasm for the idea. “We’ll invite her for the morrow.”

    Cathryn and Bryk stood in the doorway, watching the departing thrall who had delivered an invitation to the Ragnarsen house.
    “That’s a nasty black eye,” she remarked. “I hope her mistress didn’t inflict it as a punishment.”
    Bryk shrugged and turned to enter the house.
    Cathryn followed. “There’s something odd about the girl, as if she’s hiding a secret.”
    Bryk shrugged again. “But she made the effort to speak a few words of your language before lapsing into Norse to deliver her message.”
    “True. I suppose declining the invitation would be perceived as an insult.”
    Bryk furrowed his brow. “Why would you want to?”
    Cathryn would have to choose her words carefully. Vikings were defensive of their traditions and she was suspicious of the Ragnarsens’ motives. “Magnus and Ingeborg’s child were born the same day,” she said hesitantly, watching her husband’s face. Reassured when she didn’t detect the hint of a scowl, she continued. “Vikings pledge children to each other as marriage partners,