Page 13 of Hungry Like a Wolf (Vikings Rock #3)

Eventually, they sailed between two vast, snow-topped mountains that were lined with waterfalls and littered with brave little trees rooting into the rocks.

Turning east, they drifted onto a still and silent fjord.

The Vikings stopped rowing and sat still and quiet, their oar handles resting on their laps.

Overhead, a bird of prey called and in the distance, rising from mist, was a crescent beach with a pier lined with longboats and alight with flaming iron baskets. Beyond it, the many pitched roofs of Drangar spread toward a cleft in the mountains.

“Home,” Ravn said after a few minutes. “Thanks be to all the gods for our safe arrival.”

Carmel crossed herself. They’d been lucky. The weather had been kind to them with only a few days of rain, no storms, and waves the boat handled with ease.

As they drew closer, the Vikings began to row again, slicing through the water as though it were butter on a hot day.

A drum sounded, its thick beat echoing around the valley.

“Ha, they have seen us.” Ravn stood at the prow, his cloak flicking behind him in the breeze. “We will feast tonight, men, and we will deserve every mouthful of food and swallow of ale.”

A cheer went up.

Carmel tightened her cloak and tried to beat down nerves. It was hard not to feel like she was being lowered into a pit of vipers. If Orm was anything to go by, the townsfolk of Drangar could be terrifying.

They were met with a crowd at the pier. Smiles and waves and shouts of “ Konge Ravn! Konge Ravn! ” Flags flapped and dogs barked. The drum sounded louder and a banner with the image of a black raven was hoisted high up a pole.

“My good people. Your king has returned!” Ravn shouted.

Men rushed to secure the boat, and the crew leaped out and were absorbed by the crowd as they found their families.

“Princess, your hand.” Ravn stooped to look under her hood at her face.

She shook her head, wishing she could become invisible.

“Your hand,” he repeated, taking it. “The people of Drangar will want to meet their new princess.”

“I am not a princess here.”

“You are my princess.” He grinned. “And they will treat you as such.” He tipped closer. “That is my promise.”

She pulled in a breath as the shouts and cheers grew louder still.

“Come on. We have been on this boat long enough. It is time to find our land legs again.”

“Our what?”

He laughed. “You will see what I mean.” He pulled her to standing and circled her waist as though expecting her to topple overboard.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as they stepped onto the pier. She kept her hood pulled up, overwhelmed by the surge of strangers.

The moment her feet hit the wooden boards, Carmel knew what Ravn had referred to.

Her knees were weak, her legs shaky. It was as though she were still compensating for the rocking of the boat, yet the surface beneath her was unmoving.

“Oh,” she said, clinging to the sleeve of his tunic. “This is…peculiar.”

“It can take a day or two.” He grinned then lifted his hand into the air. For a few minutes, he spoke loudly in his native tongue.

She looked around at the posse of Viking men and women. They were all tall and strong, their clothes hardy and decorated with brooches and chains. She barely saw anyone without a weapon at their belt. Even the youngest boys had knives sheathed at their waist.

“I have just informed them that you are with me and are of royal blood from a land far away,” he said. “They will respect you.”

“Are you sure?” She caught the eye of a woman who had ink down one side of her face, a detailed pattern that reminded Carmel of a tangle of ivy.

“ Ja , I am sure.” He squeezed her closer. “Where is thrall Joseph?” he called.

There was movement in the crowd. “I am here, Your Grace.” An aging man with curly, gray hair, clean-shaven, and with deep-brown eyes stepped forward. He wore a dark fur around his shoulders that was secured with a strip of leather at his chest.

“Ah, good.” Ravn clasped him on the shoulder. “Meet Princess Carmel. She speaks your tongue, so you will ensure she understands what others are saying to her.”

“I will translate, aye.” He tipped his head and studied her. “I trust you had a good journey, Your Highness.”

“As well as can be expected.” She paused. “You are a slave here, I have been told.”

“Slave?” He paused. “No, I work here in Drangar, for the king and his family.”

“But where are you from? Where is home?”

He laughed. “This is home now. I have forgotten about my old one.”

“The one you were taken from against your will.” She folded her arms and studied him.

“I guess that’s how it happened, yes.” Joseph shrugged.

“Mmm, I see the king’s family has a history of kidnapping.” She tipped her eyebrows at Ravn. “Father and now son.”

Ravn laughed. “I have a history of many things. Some I might tell you about. Some I might not.”

She scowled at him. “Your father took a man of God.”

Joseph rubbed his head as though remembering his tonsure. “It was God’s will that I live this life now.”

“With heathens?”

“With heathens.” Joseph grinned. “Shall I show you where you can bathe, Princess? I am sure after weeks at sea, a hot bath is just what you would enjoy.”

“A hot bath?”

“Aye, the Vikings are very fond of hot baths. It is just one of the rituals I enjoy now that I live a new life.”

“Joseph, there you are. Oh, and King Ravn, welcome home, Your Grace.” A pretty woman with hair in long braids appeared at Joseph’s side.

“Thank you, Erin.” Ravn nodded at her. “This is my princess, Carmel. I trust you will look after her and speak in the language Joseph has taught you, as it is hers too.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Erin gave a funny little bow. “Welcome, Princess.”

“I allowed Joseph to marry Erin before I left for Tillicoulty,” Ravn said. “He wouldn’t take her to his bed until he did and it has been so many years, he has wanted to. That strange Christian tradition of yours.”

“You are married?” Carmel raised her eyebrows. “But you are a monk, are you not? How can you be married?”

“I am not a monk.” Joseph shrugged. “At least not anymore.”

She crossed herself. “What devil place have I come to where monks marry?”

“Don’t look so miserable,” Erin said. “You might just enjoy it.”

Carmel huffed. She very much doubted that.