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Prologue

Ålesund, Møre Province, Norway, April 880 AD

“Do not let me down, Einar,” King Harald said. “The Orkneys must be free of Viking outlaws. My word must rule there, not chaos.”

If Einar Birgirsson could, he would crush the king, who had taken away his home during his conquest of Norway.

Instead, Einar walked by the king’s side towards the jetty. There, three longships pierced the gray sky, their bellies being filled with sacks, chests, sheep, and people. Next to Einar walked his ten-winter-old daughter, Svanhild, and his older brother, Jarl Rögnvald of Møre.

Einar held the king’s piercing blue gaze. Even though Harald had less physical power than Einar, the man had the political might to ruin Einar’s life and that of his family.

“The Orkneys will be free, Lord,” Einar said.

Harald nodded, satisfied. “Good. I have faith in you. Your nephew refused the task, claiming it was impossible to get rid of them. But I respect that you are up for the challenge.”

Rögnvald’s neck reddened at the mention of his son’s failure, and a tinge of shame stung Einar as well. Einar clenched his fists. He would restore the family’s honor.

Had he a son, he would not let him hide in the village. He would make him answer to the king.

Another reason to be glad that he did not have more children.

Ålesund was a good location on the arm of the North Sea, with easy access for sea voyages. From behind, it was protected by looming mountains with flat tops and forested slopes. Einar would miss their magnificence and the lush, wet smell of a forest after the rain. The Orkney Islands were bare and low compared to Norway, but the scent of the sea and the chill of the wind would likely be the same.

“Einar will please you, Lord.” Rögnvald was a little stouter and shorter than Einar, and already silver ran through the dull gold of his hair. “Viking season is about to begin, so it will be the right time to cut the outlaws off before they start raiding. Also, it is a good time to sow, and lambing is underway. This will give a new settlement a proper start in preparation for the first winter.”

He was right. Ålesund was in full swing of pre-sowing activities, the air filled with distant cries of working men and women. Soon, the Orkneys would be, too.

They arrived at the jetty where Einar’s men loaded the last sacks and barrels onto the ships. Waves splashed gently against the wooden hulls. Once Einar and Svanhild boarded, the ships would set off.

King Harald nodded without taking his eyes off Einar. “I hope we can put our previous disagreement behind us, Einar. I have no wish to be your enemy. Not a man like you.”

Einar’s throat tightened. What do you say to a king who took your home and is now offering a new one? Even though this home was swarming with dangerous men who were ready to rob and kill.

You say what needs to be said. “I do not wish to be your enemy, either.” He glanced at Rögnvald. “I just wish my daughter could stay here, in safety. Outlaw-infested islands are no place for a young girl.”

Svanhild’s eyes, as wide as armrings, landed on him. “Father, please, take me with you.”

Einar’s chest tightened. Moments like these were when he most needed and missed his wife. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. She would know what to say. Her hazel eyes would sparkle as she smiled and sank to her knees to talk to Svanhild. Her golden-red hair, like amber when the sun danced over it, would sway and shine.

But when he opened his eyes, only his daughter stood there, the living image of his great love, the wife he’d always miss.

Svanhild was still looking at him, petting the smoke-gray kitten in her arms. She had told him every new home needed a cat to keep mice away.

Einar needed to distract himself from the pain that grasped his chest—the love and fear for his daughter. He took a sack and threw it to one of the men on the ship. “Svanhild, I only think of your safety.”

“But will I not be safe with you?” she asked.

Einar leaned down and picked up another sack. “Enemies do not hide behind every corner in Ålesund. Your uncle and his sons will protect you.”

Rögnvald nodded. “Your father is right, sweet. You know your cousins will be joyful if you stay, as will I. Einar, you should send for her after you have cleared the islands.”

King Harald frowned. “But that might take years. Will you not miss your only child?”

Einar’s shoulders tensed like they did every time he was supposed to show any affection towards his daughter.

He threw the sack to his man on the ship. “Her being alive is more imp—”

“If she is with you,” Harald interrupted, “you will be more focused on making the islands safe.”