A Viking's Catch (Book One of the Sogn Series)

Chapter Five

 "Clare!" Someone whispered one morning, after many more days of traveling, "Wake up, Clare. We are nearly there."

Clare groaned something incoherent, but opened her eyes to the rising sun that gleamed through the all too familiar tarp. Reality struck her hard, after waking from dreams of her father who had smiled down at her from the clouds. The smell of salt water assaulted her nose, but she did not mind it so much. It was the man who watched her from mere inches away that bothered her, "What do you mean we are nearly there, Torsten?"

The burly man smirked widely, "We have spotted land, and Roald is convinced that it is our homeland."

"How is he so sure?" She snapped.

Torsten smiled once more, "Look for yourself, if you must."

Clare shot up after that, and looked out from beneath the tarp. Mountain peaks aligned the distance, and they were sailing towards them with speed. The mountains looked blue in the morning light, and the sun was rising from afar.

She did not realize it, but she had stepped out from the tarp, and walked to the front of the ship. Her lips had slightly parted as she stared at the beautiful sight. An animal's cry from the sky scared her as they came closer, and she looked up to see a hawk fly past them and to the trees that she could now make out as apart of the mountains.

Roald began yelling out orders in Norse to his crew, and she could hear similar orders being shouted out by the men on the other boats that followed them. Their stern voices made her nervous, but she swallowed nerves in order to stay calm.

They entered a canal that flowed between the mountains, and only when they sailed further, did the canal begin to widen and the land flattened. Several minutes went by until she could see smoke rising from the land. Upon seeing it, Roald roared excitedly, easily joined in by his men.

Clare turned around to look at his beaming face, "Is that your home?"

He nodded once, not taking his eyes away from the buildings that were becoming larger, "Yes, that is the city of Sogn. My home."

Nafarr came up from behind her and stared off to the large buildings, "We are far from Wexford, are we not?"

"Yes," she replied breathlessly, "Very far indeed."

The six ships took down their sails as a single man on each steered them in the direction of the docks. Clare remained at the front of the ship, giving Roald's amused townspeople a glimpse of her bravery and pride. She promised herself she would not fear anyone, not even Roald. Jarl or not, she would not be ruled by a Viking.

Many people from the docks grabbed the ropes and helped tie the ships securely to the posts. The docks were wide, stretching far from one side of the beach to the other.

As more eyes noticed the return of their Jarl and his men, more people came to greet them. Torsten instantly began throwing bags of valuables onto the docks, and the people watched with wide eyes and even wider smiles as they saw their stolen treasures. Clare was neutral, not showing any emotion except for a tinge of anger.

Her anger increased when a woman with long, braided hair, the color of russet brown, asked, "Who is the girl? A slave from the lands of which you raided?"

Torsten, Nafarr, and many others who had been on the ships roared out in laugher, "No, Inger." Roald said, laughing with the others, "This is Clare, my future wife."

Clare snapped her head in the direction of Roald, glaring darkly. Inger had laughed at that, "She does not seem so keen on the idea of taking you as her husband."

Before Roald could say more, Clare interrupted him by saying lowly, "That is because I am not."

This caused Inger to laugh louder, "I like her, Roald. She is strong, both physically and in spirit. I am sure that she will give you many great children."