Page 42 of To Tame a Viking Warlord

The eastern sky was beginning to go gray when he spoke again.

"Two days to the Algarve coast if this wind holds. Then Lisbon after that."

"And then?"

"Then north."

She nodded slowly. Suhayl had set, or the haze had taken it. Tomorrow it would rise a little lower still.

"My mother never saw the sea," she said. "Not once in her life. She would have liked this."

Torstein looked at her for a long moment.

"There is a stretch past Brittany," he said, "where the land falls away west and you can see the whole southern sky at once, right down to the water. If we go out that way instead of hugging the coast, you will get one more night of your star before you lose it."

Samira turned her head.

"That would cost you a day."

"Aye," said Torstein, and went back to watching the water. "It would. But if it means that my wife gets to see a star that points to her home a little longer, then it is worth it."

Samira felt a tear track down her cheek as she smiled at this Viking husband of hers. That night she gave thanks to the heavens and when she finally fell asleep, her heart felt full.

***

THE FOLLOWING MORNING when Samira awoke and made her way to the main deck, she noticed a shift in the atmosphere. Mainly from the crew. Several nodded their heads and smiled as she moved past them. It was no longer the usual brief nod of deference they afforded her because of her husband. This time they acknowledged her because of what she had done during the storm.

"What is happening?" she asked Torstein, who joined her.

"You saved the ship and a life in the storm. It was no small feat what you did and my crew are grateful. Bravery and skill are highly regarded among my people. You possess an abundance of both."

Samira blushed then greeted each man in turn.

From that day onward, Samira noticed the change. The crew included her openly in their conversations and banter and soon she was listening with a keen ear to learn their language faster.

***

Chapter 17

The Turning Point

At Lisbon, the crew traded two bales of leather for new oars and a bolt of sailcloth, and Samira bargained the price down in a language none of them spoke.

At the mouth of a Galician river they drew the snekkja up on a beach of gray stone and slept one night on land.

Off Brittany Torstein kept his word. He took the ship out wide, away from the coast, and cost them a full day doing it. That night Samira stood at the stern and watched Suhayl lift clear of the water for the last time. She did not take her eyes from it until the haze swallowed it, and Torstein stood beside her the whole time, clasping her hand, reassuring her that although she had given up her homeland for this mission, he would become her new home.

Then they crossed to the Irish coast and put in at Dyflin, where half the men in the market spoke Norse which was the language used widely by Vikings and similar to Norn. Torstein bought her a cloak lined with sealskin. Then they passed the Southern Isles, before they rounded the great headland the crew called Hvarf.

"It means turning," Leif told her. "Every ship coming home from the south turns here. After this, it is our water."

Samira looked up at the black cliff with the sea smashing white at its foot and thought that it was a hard place to call a welcome.

Somewhere in those weeks, between one port and the next, she and Torstein had grown closer. While they still had not consummated the marriage, Torstein used every opportunity to touch her and remain near her. Either he held her hand or wrapped an arm about her, or lately, to her great embarrassment, he would haul her onto his lap and settle her there if they dined at an inn or tavern. Every night they shared a bed and every morning, Samira would wake with Torstein wrapped around her.

***

Thurso, Caithness