As far as the eye could see, Viking longboats blanketed the horizon. Ragda had returned with an army, just as he had promised. He had sent word to every Earl and King in Scandinavia, sharing the tale of Aiya Einardóttir. The Nords answered his call, but it wasn’t just the Norwegians—many Danes had come as well, curious if the stories of Einar Den Røde's daughter were true. For no man, woman, or child in the North did not know the name of the Red King.
The sight was overwhelming. Aiya and her company raced down the steep trails to the shoreline, their hearts pounding with anticipation. There were at least forty ships, each flying its own banner. Among them, she spotted the blue flag of Hafrafell, bearing the sword-handle emblem. Each ship carried thirty warriors or more.
Aiya’s chest swelled with pride as she turned to Esma. "They will fear us now," she said firmly.
"It will be impossible to stay hidden," Esma remarked, her voice laced with concern.
"We don’t need to anymore," Aiya replied with quiet certainty.
The men and women aboard the longboats wasted no time. They leapt from the ships, splashing into the cold water with shields and axes in hand, their war cries echoing over the waves. Aiya stood at the edge of the shore, greeting them as they approached.
“Adia!” Aiya called out, rushing into the waves to embrace her aunt. The older woman laughed, holding her tightly.
“I’ve brought Falco and your cousin, Iodin,” Adia said, gesturing behind her. Two broad-shouldered men stepped forward, their expressions a mixture of pride and amusement.
“Hello, cousin!” Iodin greeted, pulling Aiya into a rough hug. “May we wet our blades with the blood of the Christians,” he added, his grin feral.
Falco merely patted her shoulder as he passed, chuckling as he shoved Iodin forward. Aiya smiled, watching them join the others on the beach.
Her smile faded as her eyes fell on Ragda, standing tall at the prow of one of the ships. He disembarked with deliberate steps, his gaze fixed on her. She didn’t move. The sight of him after so long filled her with conflicting emotions—relief, love, and a pang of the unresolved tension that lingered between them.
“How did I do?” he asked as he approached, his voice soft but steady.
“Not bad,” she replied, stepping toward him as the waves spilled into her boots.
“You’re alright?” His eyes searched hers as he closed the distance.
“I am now,” she said, running to him. She leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.
Ragda caught her with ease, holding her tightly. Aiya tangled her fingers in his hair, tilting his head back as she brought her lips to his. Their kiss was fervent, the world around them fading into nothing. He tasted of salt, mead, and the sea, and she found herself clinging to him as if to a lifeline.
“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat nearby.
They broke apart reluctantly, turning to see Thrain standing a few steps away, a knowing smile on his face. Ragda set her down gently, and Aiya waded through the water to greet her old friend.
“Hello, my friend,” she said, embracing him warmly.
“You are well?” he asked, his voice full of genuine concern.
“I am,” she replied, smiling.
“Where is Esma? I must speak with her,” Thrain said, scanning the crowded beach.
Aiya pointed toward the firelight in the distance. Thrain wasted no time, striding away with purpose. A moment later, she saw him lift Esma into his arms, spinning her around before planting a kiss on her lips. Esma’s laughter rang out over the din of the beach.
YOU ARE READING
Conqueror Queen
Historyczne✯Sequel to A Viking's Rage✯ Her whole life she had been mistreated, now it was her turn for revenge. She wasn't just a slave anymore, she was Aiya Einardóttir now, and she would conqueror the whole world if she had too. Now she seeks revenge on Lord...
