Love lights the way out of the darkest nights.

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EXCERPT from my story “A Solstice Promise”

A Solstice Promise

By Joan Koster

The Orkney Islands off the northeastern coast of Scotland, sometime in the eight century—the Viking Age.

Part 1 The Ravens

Five Days before the Midwinter Solstice

Despite the approach of the day when the sun stopped, it had been a day of clear sky and calm seas. But no longer. Eithne peered out at the frothy sea. A sliver of the midday sun barely showed above the horizon, soon to be gone. That was to be expected. The cycle had repeated itself for all of her twenty-three years and for all the years that even the oldest in the village could remember. It was the stone-gray clouds gathered to the north that worried her.

A storm was coming—a wild one—if she read the signs right. She tucked a wind-twisted lock of hair beneath her hood and clutched her gathering basket against her chest. The worst ones always came from the north. She’d lost her fisherman husband in a storm like that, five full moons ago.

She wended her way along the shoreline below the cliffs gathering the bladderwort and sea lettuce to season the thin fish broth she’d made. A pair of ravens rose against the blackening sky. How she hated those birds. Foul harbingers of death. Waiting on the rocky crags ready to swoop down and steal any scrap of food or peck at any dead left unguarded. She shut away the memory of finding Dru’s eyeless body washed up at the foot of the rocks.

The sea gods gifted, and the sea gods stole. Everyone who lived on this bit of land surrounded on all sides by the ocean knew that. She’d have to marry again. But she wasn’t ready yet. It was too soon. Her heart too full of grief.

A gust of wind raced down the shore bringing with it the first pinpricks of sleety rain. Time to go. No use worrying about an unknown future. She needed to get through the coming storm first.

She wrapped her wool tighter around her and turned back toward the village. All she could do was ply her spindle and work her loom to trade for the bare necessities, care for her aging mother-in-law, and live for the moment. The fates would do with her as they will.

Halfway down the shoreline, her foot caught, and she stumbled. Her basket spilled the precious greens she’d picked. Her knees landed on something sharp. Eithne fought back tears and felt along the ground for whatever she’d tripped over. In the near dark, she could see something long and black, a harsh line across the lighter pebbles

She ran her fingers lightly over the surface. Metallic. Knife-edged. Her hand reached the end. A handle. There was only one object like this in the village. A rough metal sword fashioned by the blacksmith’s son in imitation of the ones described in legend.

There was a knob at the end of the grip. Her fingernails caught in the incised lines. No villager had the skill to carve such intricate signs into the metal. Eithne wrapped her hands around the hilt, gave it a heft. Whoever had wielded this sword had to be a giant. She let it drop. This was the weapon of stranger. A rich one. A powerful one. One to be feared.

And it didn’t belong here.

Eithne stared out at the ever more violent sea. There were sea pirates out there. Fair-haired outlanders from the North, hungry for her people’s land and goods. She’d never seen such men herself. But traders told of tall bloodthirsty barbarians with pale skin, metal helmets, and brutal swords like this, who swooped in to destroy villages and take women and children as slaves. Vikingrs

Had one of their longships foundered in the stormy waves and spewed the sword on the beach? She jumped up. No. That would be impossible. Anything of heavy metal would have sunk to the bottom of the sea. One of those ships must have landed somewhere nearby. She searched for her basket. She had to warn the villagers.

A low moan came from the foot of the cliffs. The wind? Or one of the Northmen — the owner of the sword? She shuddered.

She should go. Fetch the headman, Giric, and the rest of the men. Or would they call her a fool, bringing them out into the storm to chase the wind?

She’d grown up in the village, in a family believed cursed because every male from her great-grandfather to her brothers had been lost to the sea. Dru hadn’t minded. He’d loved her, paid the marriage fee, and made sure she was accepted as his wife. But now he was gone to the spirit realm. Drowned like the rest.

Cursed, she’d heard whispered. Witch. Her neighbors would not take kindly to being made to look like fools if she were to drag them down the cliff for naught.

She needed to make sure.

Eithne peered all around her. Despite the draining light, she could make out the dark patches of seaweed that stretched along the shore in both directions right up to the looming cliff face. There was no place for a shipload of men to hide, especially the monstrous Vikingr longships, each carrying more than one-hundred men. Thank the gods, only small boats could land on this side of the island.

And even if they landed, the enemy would have to climb the cliff face to reach the hamlet and its commanding broch tower. It was one of the reasons Giric and the other villagers had little fear of an attack by the Northmen, despite the fact that the island was the nearest to the pillagers’ lands across the sea.

The moan sounded again. So human. So full of pain. Eithe tensed then tipped her head toward the sound. Could it be a fellow villager injured in a fall? Once the storm hit, he or she would be swept away in the raging surf already biting nearer and nearer to the base of the cliff.

How could she turn away? Perhaps, Dru had been alive when he’d washed ashore, but no one had been there to hear his cries except the ravens.

She picked up a heavy rock, listened again, then approached the source of the sound. She did not have to go far.

It had not been the wind.

A dark human-shaped shadow curled against the cliff. It was not a short, black-haired villager. Broad across the shoulders, long of limb, he looked nothing like the wiry fishermen of the island. Eithne narrowed her eyes. The man was clearly a foreigner, his fair hair elaborately braided, his chest covered with a salt-stained, intricately pieced-leather vest.

Eithne edged closer, the rock clenched tighter in her hand. Up close, the figure seemed less ominous. He was huddled on one side and moaning with every breath. Despite being the enemy, he was a man of flesh and blood, one who would soon drown if left on the shore.

She peered out to sea. How had he gotten here? Had he fallen overboard or had his ship foundered? She imagined a ship battling the storm and thought of Dru. She hadn’t been able to save the man she’d loved. But she could save this one.

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Authors in this anthology include:

• Elf Ahearn – “Written in the Water: A Nantucket Love Story” – Outcast and alone, can the beauty of Nantucket bring them love?
• Jaylee Austin– “The Snow Stag” – Unlock the Mystery of Rowmore Woods: Join Sherlyn Winters on a Journey of Love, Adventure, and Fate.
• Ruth A. Casie – “The Lady & The Flame” – Will their passion overcome the secrets and lies that threaten to keep them apart? Or will the flame of love be snuffed out by the cold heart of betrayal?
• Jo Donahue – “Jessica’s Christmas Locket” – Can two people who wanted nothing to do with each other find out they are a perfect match?
• Heather Hallman – “Forbidden” – For their love to prevail, Emmy and Sachio will have to be the last ones standing.
• Opal Iden – “Light of Peace” – Christmas looks bleak for Irma and her family. Her husband is dead, her cupboards are bare and she’s not sure what to do with the wounded man on her stoop.
• Doreen Jensen – “What the Cat Knew” – Even pressure from each of their clans doesn’t keep two old friends from trying to break their marriage contract.
• Joan Koster – “A Solstice Promise” – To love is to risk everything.
• Julia Masters – “Promises by Starlight” – An unmarried female mathematician at the Harvard College Observatory must convince an opinionated up-and-coming astronomer that she is the right assistant for the position on his stargazing research team. Will they find love among the stars?
• Niki J. Mitchell – “Snowbound Hearts” – A Wisconsin blizzard strands a handsome widower with a vivacious banker’s daughter. Their relationship blossoms—until he breaks her heart.

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