Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Signy’s mother had come to rest at the base of the cliffs on the eastern side of the bay. A group of women, not far off, had seen her fall. They’d rushed to her, but there had never been any hope.

Viggo prayed she hadn’t suffered in those final moments.

Signy had led him down, for his vision was far from fully returned. He trusted now in the gods to aid his recovery as much as he trusted Signy’s devotion, and he would be patient.

His protestations, she’d set aside, presenting to the women of the island a story more palatable to Ulva’s memory—a tragic accident.

‘Twas a reminder to them all, Bothild said, not to wander in high places where the capriciousness of the wind was known.

All had seen the storm blow in, darkening the skies, and depart just as quickly, with not a drop of rain shed. A strange occurrence, though not unprecedented.

Perhaps some of the women did not believe all Signy professed, but their fondness for her appeared to outweigh any conflicted conscience.

A pyre of branches dragged from the hillside had been raised on the beach, each able woman, child, and man carrying what they were able—a labor undertaken more for Signy’s sake, to Viggo’s mind, than for her mother.

Signy released his hand to take the torch from Bothild. One touch of its flame to the dried grass stuffed between the wood, and the fire grew, coaxed by the breeze across the sands. Silently, they watched as gold and red leapt upward, steadily engulfing the shrouded form.

Viggo could not discern the faces of those gathered, only that of Signy, who he pressed to his side. He wished he might take away her pain, but he could only give his comfort while she came to her own place of healing.

As for himself, grief still inhabited his heart, and it always would, for his brothers lost and his father, but Signy’s love made that easier to bear. The old wounds would gradually lose their power to pierce so deep.

But for the distant waves of the low tide, the beach was strangely quiet.

Those from Skálavík were there, so Signy had told him—Rutger, J?rgen, Gunnar and his jarl, though not Rangvald. Viggo was not greatly surprised, nor sorry for it.

'Twas uncanny to think, the men who'd once resided in this place had stood upon these sands. From somewhere nearby, they'd pushed out their boats to meet the rushing tide, and sailed away.

Viggo still could not fathom what had befallen, to bring such sickness, affecting only the menfolk. To scare them so badly that they'd fled their home, and their women!

He trusted Signy, but was there something she hadn't told him?

Did Eldberg, or any of the other men, know what had befallen? If they did, none had approached him to confide those facts. Perhaps, like himself, they were keeping whatever knowledge they possessed close, uncertain of what might follow, if they were to speak of it.

Viggo had given the island's calamity scant consideration while his thoughts had been consumed by his desire to die. Now, he wondered…

Was there danger here?

The women had been spared before, but what if the affliction returned? Who could say if any of them would be safe—man or woman?

Viggo caught a hushed voice speaking somewhere behind. “Ulva cursed the men as they sailed away, you remember, and now…”

“They made their own choices,” another whispered.

“Still, it makes me ponder… are we to be punished, as they were? As Ulva?—”

“Quiet!” Bothild’s command ceased their chatter.

Viggo squeezed Signy’s hand. She stood resolute and brave, and his love for her welled strong.

She’d changed him—or made him view himself in a way he hadn’t before. Signy observed what was noble, and he intended to uphold that—to make sure he fulfilled that vision she held dear. She’d seen his worst and never stopped believing in the good. It was that which had allowed him to find his way back.

Only then had he been granted the sight he’d placed so much importance upon. The gods were wise indeed, making him see with his heart rather than relying on his eyes alone.

Emotion overwhelmed him, bringing tears to match those upon Signy’s cheeks. Loosening her hand, he brought both his arms about her so that no distance separated them.

She was his. He was hers.

Nothing would ever divide them.

We hope you enjoyed Viggo and Signy’s tumultuous journey, but, of course, their love story is only beginning.

What more is in store for these lovers and each of the others?

Read ‘ Seduced by the Viking ’ for Grethe and Rutger’s adventure, and to learn more about the island’s secrets…

Conceited, arrogant, and built like a prize stud, Rutger is a red-blooded Viking.

But his brash, bad boy demeanour hides a chasm of pain.

He has known love, only to have his heart cleaved in two by a faithless woman.

Grethe’s hopes of marriage and children were cruelly dashed when her fickle betrothed abandoned her.

With Rutger as her captive mate, she’ll punish him as she’d like to punish all men.

Hot-headed and stubborn, the two are intent upon the other’s torment.

Nothing can change the way they feel.

Can it…?

Turn the page, for a glimpse of what's to come…