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descend on him—and Odaria.
    “It would do you well to remember who you speak to. Need I remind you how I became known as Rothgar the Ruthless? I still have a few friends from the old days. A group of berserkrs sailed with us. I could call upon them …”
    Karnik’s brown eyes widened in fear. “No, there’s no need for that. In the name of Odin, leave them out of this.”
    “ Gut .” He smiled. “Now, this is how things will be.” He paused and licked his lips. Karnik was not used to taking orders from him, but he would soon learn how. “Odaria stays with me. I will question the other villagers in the morning. They are not to be harmed. Anything else on this isle—homes, livestock, food, treasure—is free for the taking. Agreed?”
    The muscles in Karnik’s jaw tightened, and he nodded. “ Ja .”
    “ Gut. And after Ivor’s eaten, take him away with you. I do not wish to see him again until we set sail for home.”
    Without saying another word, he turned his back on Karnik and resumed his place at the table.
    Odaria rested her hand on his sleeve. “Rothgar, what did he—?”
    “Shh. Do not bother me, woman. I have enough troubles.”
    He filled his drinking horn with beer and drained it in three swallows. Right now, all he wanted was to get drunk and forget about everything. He had just made a potential enemy out of Karnik, and for what? An odd Pict girl he fancied? How soon would his error in judgment come back to haunt him?

Chapter Three

    Odaria looked into the cloudless blue sky. The sun streamed down on her face, warming her. She gazed around the lush green field filled with yellow and white flowers. She smiled. Today was a good day, perhaps the happiest day of her life.
    “Odaria, come on,” Rothgar called and waved at her from the bottom of the hill. Snow-capped mountains towered behind him in the distance.
    She lifted the skirts of her light blue dress and ran to him, crushing the tender green grass under her bare feet. When she reached his side, he rested his left hand on her slightly swollen belly.
    “Easy, love. You are in too delicate a condition to run so.”
    She wrapped her arms around Rothgar’s neck and pulled him close. “I am fine, dearest husband.” She kissed him deeply, and he slipped his arms around her waist. “Shall we—?”
    A loud bang startled her awake. She jerked up and looked around, confused. Where was she? Who were all these strange men? She thought for a second, then recalled everything. The gathering hall. The Norsemen. Rothgar.
    She was sitting on the floor next to Rothgar’s chair. Rowdy Norsemen filled the room, drinking, laughing, and stomping. The men had been carrying on for hours. After they had devoured their feast, they had laid waste to the gathering hall.
    Gnawed bones had been tossed onto the straw-covered floor, meat juices dripped down the side of the table, and empty bowls and plates had been thrown across the room. How late into the night would this continue? Wouldn’t these men ever settle down and go to sleep? It was probably well after midnight by now.
    She looked up and saw Rothgar gazing at her.
    “Did we waken you mit our singing?”
    She cocked her head. Although Rothgar spoke her language, his thick accent confused her at times. Every so often, he blended some words from his own language with hers.
    “Aye.”
    Rothgar guided her head down until it rested on his thigh. “Sleep. I shall wake you later.”
    She relaxed against Rothgar’s leg. It made a good pillow, and being close to him gave her a sense of security. He insisted on watching over her to keep her safe from the other Norsemen, and right now she didn’t mind the protection. When she thought about what Ivor had tried to do to her …
    Odaria pushed the horrible thought from her mind and trailed her finger along the brooch Rothgar had given her. The detailed pattern of silver knots and swirls was accented with green stones he called jade. It had obviously been crafted with