Defiant in the Viking's Bed. Joanna Fulford

beyond. In front of them was an ancient oak tree. As the distance narrowed and Astrid saw the figure hanging from one of the lower branches the bile rose in her throat.

      Her uncle had no trouble reading her expression. ‘I see you recognise the traitor.’

      ‘Ari was no traitor. He was guilty only of doing what I asked him.’

      ‘And by his actions he betrayed me,’ replied Einar. ‘He has paid the price.’

      She looked away, sick to her stomach, understanding now just how naïve she had been, and knowing the guilt of it would never leave her. In that instant she also understood the meaning of hatred.

      ‘The only reason he was given a relatively quick death,’ he continued, ‘was that he helped deliver Leif Egilsson into my hands.’

      Astrid looked up quickly. ‘What have you done with him?’