Page 42 of Lena & Ivar

“What about you, Yrsa? Aren’t you scared being here, seeing me like this? Doesn’t this make you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into?” Vigo’s wife had announced only the week earlier that they were expecting their first child.

“Perhaps,” Yrsa laughed nervously. “But now what am I going to do? Tyra will arrive whether or not I’m ready. I just count my blessings that it will be a girl. Signy told me so when she was here the last time.”

Lena thought about the message she had received from Lorna telling her of her son Erik’s birth three months earlier. Apparently, it had not been an easy event. Since then, she received one other missive that reassured her that Lorna had recovered and that life with a babe was not as traumatic as Lorna feared. Lena hoped that she would be like her friend and recover enough to return to training soon. She had missed sparring with Ivar in the last months of her pregnancy, after Ivar had thrown a fit seeing her lift a sword and walk into the training yard. She reminded herself that if Lorna did it, she was determined to recover as well. A message from Signy had also accompanied the last one from Lorna. The seer reminded them of her prediction that the two families would be joined by blood more than once. Ivar had scoffed and argued there was no reason for their families to join when in the past year a secret alliance had proven fruitful. Both tribes benefitted by sharing the secrets their neighbors told but did not expect to have passed along. Rangvald and Ivar had spared one another more than one attack, and Soren was grateful for the peace that his son’s and Rangvald’s friendship created.

“Aaahhh!” Lena’s scream rent the air before she bit down hard on her lip, blood coloring the skin.

“It’s all right, my love.”

“All right? How about you try doing this?”

“Lena, it’s time to push,” Disa interrupted. She patted Lena’s knees until she was in position. It only took four strong pushes, and Lena and Ivar were staring dumbfounded at their son.

“Leif,” Ivar’s voice filled with awe as he looked at the tiny figure that rested against Lena’s breast. The blond hair was so pale it was white, and his arms and legs so long Ivar had not been sure his son had a body when Disa held him up. “He looks like you, Lena.”

“Perhaps my face and hair, but that is your massive body. He is a giant already.” Lena stroked the back of her finger over Leif’s cheek.

“Leif?” Brenna asked.

“Yes, both of our mother’s fathers shared that name,” Ivar smiled at Disa, who leaned over to kiss her own son’s cheek.

Lena kissed Leif’s downy scalp as he nursed, and she rocked him. She looked back at Ivar and pursed her lips for a kiss. It was slow and tender, filled with promise for their future.

Lena leaned back against Ivar as his arms wrapped carefully around her and their baby. She closed her eyes and an image of a young woman danced before them. She looked like Lena, but there was something different about this woman. The bright aura of a defiant spirit shone around her as she laughed at a dark-haired man whose face Lena was unable to see. She knew who she was looking at, even if she was not the one with the gift of second sight.

“Freya,” Lena murmured.

“Yes, we are blessed by the goddess,” Ivar smiled down at his family, but Lena shook her head.

“Our daughter will be Freya. She will be next. Gird your loins, Ivar. She will be like me, but even more spirited. I suspect our son shall be the easy one.”

“A daughter? Did Signy tell you that?”

“I just know. I can see her with my heart already. By this time next year.”

“Leif and Freya,” Ivar tried out the names on his tongue and found he liked them.

“Leif and Freya with Bjorn, Tyra, and Strian. They will be the next generation of great warriors, and they will be our greatest glory.” Lena cast her gaze around the room and saw Frida, Brenna, and Yrsa nod; Leif’s gurgles sounded his own agreement. After years of strife and unrest, Viking glory was their new destiny.