The Tree of Time, page 1
The Tree of Time
Called by a Viking Book Five
Mariah Stone
Contents
The Tree of Time
Join the romance time-travelers’ club!
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
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Note on historical accuracy
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
Legal disclaimer
The Tree of Time
A Time Travel Romance
* * *
Called by a Viking
Book Five
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Mariah Stone
Join the romance time-travelers’ club!
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Called by a Viking series:
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One Night with a Viking (prequel)—grab for free!
* * *
The Fortress of Time
* * *
The Jewel of Time
* * *
The Marriage of Time
* * *
The Surf of Time
* * *
The Tree of Time
To all parents. Especially to mine.
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.”
Einar clenched his teeth so hard, his jaw hurt.
“And putting down roots will only make you feel more at home,” King Harald continued. “Is that not what you want, Einar? Living in your own home after being your brother’s guest for many winters? Is it not time for you to get back to being a leader? To building a dowry for Svanhild?”
Einar put his hands on his hips, helplessness weakening his muscles, anger burning his gut. Oh, he was sly, this king. Sly, smart, and manipulative. Loki was his god, no doubt. Einar picked up a barrel of mead that the king had given him. The thing weighed as much as Svanhild had when she was two—the last time he’d held her in his arms.
“Yes, Lord,” Einar said, “That is why I go. For her.”
He threw the barrel to the man, who barely caught it. Einar breathed out. It was good to do something with his body, and the tightness and the burning muscles were a relief.
King Harald nodded. “Good. I know a widower of your age must want for more children, too. A new home, a new start. Why not a new wife, Einar?”
The blood left Einar’s face. He must have turned the color of cotton grass because both King Harald and Rögnvald frowned at him.
“No wives, Lord.” Einar wiped his forehead—surely from the strain of physical activity, not from hearing the word “wife.”
“There will be no one else for me,” he said.
“Nonsense.” King Harald waved his hand. “You need a woman who will make the Orkneys your true home.”
Einar shook his head. “No.”
Harald’s expression shifted from concern to something resembling anger. “You must find a wife and marry this year.”
Einar suppressed a growl of fury. How dare this man decide his private life?
“Yes, in fact, this is my final condition,” Harald said. “If you want to be the jarl and to own the Orkney and Shetland Islands, and if you want a good dowry for Svanhild, you need to be wed in two moons.”
The wooden jetty must have shifted under Einar’s feet. He stood like an oaf, blinking and slack-jawed.
“You are jesting, King, surely,” Einar mumbled.
“I am serious.” He turned and waved someone over. A skald approached, the young man who had recited beautiful poetry of Harald’s victories during last night’s feast. The skald’s eyes burned with curiosity.
“Solver Tykirsson.” Harald clapped the man’s shoulder. “You will go with Einar to the Orkneys and be my envoy.
Solver beamed at Einar and Svanhild. “Yes, Lord. I will be happy to entertain the settlers and lift their spirits. I will commemorate the settling of the Orkneys and Shetlands by the Norwegian jarl Einar Birgirsson.”
Einar listened with an open mouth, still not believing what he was hearing. The king dared to send a watchdog to make sure Einar married in two moons. Hot fury began rolling through his veins.
“You cannot be serious, Lord,” he rumbled. “I am not your son. I am not your brother. Or your—”
“You are my subject,” Harald said, his eyes dead cold. “And you will do as you are told, or you can forget the Orkneys.”
“Lord—”
“That is my final word, Einar. I need a stable annex of Norway, an excellent strategic point for trading and raiding expeditions. Fertile land that can feed you and many more generations of Norsemen. A family is key to all that. So marry in two moons or forever lose a chance to have your own home.”
Anger roared within Einar.
“The last thing I need is a wife,” he said.
“I think it is the first thing you need, brother,” Rögnvald said quietly.
Einar shot a furious glance at him, but Rögnvald only shrugged one giant shoulder. Einar looked at Svanhild, who cuddled the kitten and met his eyes with no protest. Did she want a new mother?
Pain stabbed Einar in the gut as he remembered holding the feverish, dying Agdis in his arms. After four days of labor, their second child had died inside of her, and she had been pale, in pain and bleeding.
He could not go through that again. He had one child. That was good enough.
But he needed to run the new settlement and build a dowry for his daughter, and this was the only option available.
Fine, he would agree to Harald’s proposal, but only on his own terms. His chest was so heavy that he felt as though massive chains cuffed his ribs.
“Let it be so,” Einar said.
King Harald flashed a broad smile and clapped Einar’s back. “Good. Wise decision. Two moons’ time. Odin bless you on your journey.”
He stepped back and watched Einar impassively.
The king’s job was done. He had just ruled Einar’s destiny, and Einar had walked straight into the trap.
So be it. If the Norns wove another wife into his future, Einar would accept it.
But nothing would make him open his heart to her or have any more children with her.
Because, as he’d learned so painfully in his life, loving someone would only end in pain.
Chapter One
Orlando, Florida, May 3, 2019
* * *
“Holly, sweetheart, are you sure it’s the wisest thing to go to Scotland two weeks before your big merger? You’ve been working so hard.”
Holly clenched the handle of her suitcase harder as she walked through the departure area with her parents to drop off her luggage. Mom’s brown eyes were worried—as always. The lines around her mouth deepened.
“Mom, really, everything is done. We’re just waiting for the final paperwork to come through. In two weeks, we sign. I’ll be back by then.”
“A responsible person wouldn’t leave right before closing an important deal,” her mother said. “This is not how I raised you.”
Holly suppressed a sigh and stood at the end of the baggage drop line. Mom meant well. It was just hard to see that sometimes behind the criticizing comments. Holly turned and faced her parents. They were so different from her—her mom, a petite, sweet-looking woman with a mane of curly gray hair; her dad, tall, handsome, and broad-shouldered; a true army man.
Of course, Holly didn’t look like either of them.
“Mom, I haven’t taken a vacation in three years. The genealogy researcher in Inverness has a very long waiting list, and her next opening is in two years. It’s a rare chance to find out about my roots.”
“But why do you need to find out about them when you have us?” Mom said. “Haven’t we given you everything?”
Dad hugged her. “Gemma, let her do it. You don’t know what it’s like…”
Holly flashed a grateful smile at her dad. He was a man of few words, but when he said them, they were the right ones. Holly was more like him than her mom, who had a lot to say on many subjects.
The line moved and Holly went to check in her luggage and get her boarding pass. Once she was done, she returned to her parents.
“Should we go for a coffee?” Mom asked.
Holly flashed a polite smile. “Mom, I better get going. I still need to send a couple of emails before the flight.”
Her mom sighed. “I suppose.”
The three of them proceeded towards the security check.
“I just keep thinking I forgot to tell you something,” Mom said. “I have this uneasiness in my heart about your trip. As if I’m seeing you for the last t—”
She cut herself off, tearing gathering in her eyes. Holly squeezed her mom’s shoulder.
“Everything will be fine, Mom.”
Holly’s dad hugged her mom. “Gemma, she’s traveled the world. It’s Scotland, not Siberia. And she’s a grown, successful woman.”
Mom cocked her head. “A successful woman doesn’t date a sperm bank.”
Here we go.
“This is why you wanted to go for a coffee, Mom? To berate me about my wish to have children?”
“It’s unnatural, honey. You need a husband first.”
“And what if I don’t have one, huh, Mom? What if men literally run in the other direction after they get to know the real me? Should that stop me? Nowadays, a woman doesn’t need a man to raise—”
“Those men are idiots. And yes, a woman does need a partner to raise a child. How many times have you tried? Five? Six?”
Holly’s eyes watered. Why was it that people closest to her had the capacity to hurt her the most?
“Last month was seven,” Holly said. “You’re right. It’s probably not meant to be. Something must be wrong with me.”
Mom grimaced and hugged Holly with one arm. “I know very well how it is, dear. God never gave me the chance to give birth, but he gave me you. In preparation for when the right man comes, maybe you need to try eating healthier or cut out coffee. You know I raised you to achieve things despite your flaws.”
“I guess this flaw is too big to be overcome,” Holly said, wiping her eyes and leaving black smudges of mascara on the backs of her hands and undoubtedly on her face.
From the corner of Holly’s eye, she saw a flash of movement. She glanced to her left and noticed a big tall man with a cart full of suitcases marching towards them at full speed. He was looking at his phone.
Holly barely managed to jerk her mother out of his path, steadying her to keep her from falling.
“Sir, please watch where you’re going,” Holly said.
The man glanced over his phone, raised his hand without stopping. “Sorry, sorry, late for my flight.” He continued marching, his eyes glued to his phone.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Mom said. “You’ve always protected me, ever since you were little—even from spiders.”
Holly chuckled. Her mom could seem harsh at times, but she was terrified of spiders.
