Free Anna Markland - Viking Roots Medieval Romance Saga 01 by The Rover Bold Page B

gold. He yanked it off to reveal a pointed holder as long as Cathryn’s hand. He handed it to her. “For you.”
    Cathryn had never owned a personal possession. Nuns were forbidden attachment to worldly things. She longed to accept the gift, moved beyond imagining by the pleasure in his gaze. She wiped her palms on her skirts and glanced at Ekaterina. The old nun nodded.
    With trembling hands she took the treasure from him. “Thank you.”
    It was heavy, an object of value. She should have been mortified that it had been plundered from a Christian church, but joy tingled up her spine as she slowly traced a finger from the base to the tip.
    Kaia suddenly giggled. Ekaterina’s face reddened. Bryk coughed, then held out his hand. “Keep safe. In sea chest.”
    She handed it back and watched as he nestled it into the folds of his extra clothing. Then he came to his knees and carefully unfolded the vestments.
    The expectation on his face showed he thought there was something wrapped inside.
    Ekaterina sucked in a breath when the object was revealed—an exquisite triptych , a small folding altarpiece. “Gilded copper,” she breathed, “made for a rich patron.”
    Bryk traced a fingertip along the ornately curved top then carefully opened one of the wings to reveal the figure of a man embossed on the inside.
    “ Saint John Baptist holding a lamb,” Ekaterina explained to Bryk. “The Baptist named his cousin, Jesus Our Lord, as the Lamb of God who would be sacrificed to redeem sinful humanity.”
    “Poppa has spoken of this lamb before,” he said thoughtfully, stroking the animal.
    Then he slowly opened the second wing. The center panel depicted Christ on the cross with Saint John and the Blessed Virgin Mary on either side.
    Cathryn had expected this. What stole her breath away and had Ekaterina and Kaia exclaiming out loud was the scene engraved on the interior of the right wing—there was no mistaking the figure of Saint Catherine with her attributes of Sword and Wheel, symbols of her martyrdom.
    Ekaterina launched into a mantra in some incomprehensible language, her eyes turned heavenward, hands raised in supplication.
    Kaia burst into tears.
    Cathryn stared at the triptych in disbelief. Her patron saint hadn’t abandoned her.
    Bryk sat back on his haunches, looking from one stunned woman to the next, obviously at a loss to understand what was happening.
    Cathryn pointed to the panel, then pressed her palm to her breast. “Catherine is my saint.”
    The warmth of his hand over hers calmed her instantly. “Cath-ryn,” he whispered, gazing at the artifact. “What is this?”
    “ Catherine was a princess who was scourged and imprisoned by the Roman emperor Maxentius because she refused to give up her Christian faith. Many people came to see her, including the Empress. All became Christians. Then, Maxentius proposed marriage.”
    Cathryn waited while Ekaterina explained these details, wondering if she had the courage to tell him the rest of the story. Bryk nodded thoughtfully, then looked to her.
    She swallowed hard. “ She refused, declaring she was the bride of Jesus Christ, to whom she had pledged her virginity.”
    Ekaterina hesitated, but somehow managed to convey the details to Bryk. Was he blushing?
    She gathered her courage. “ The furious emperor condemned Catherine to death on the spiked breaking wheel, but, at her touch, this instrument of torture was miraculously destroyed. Maxentius finally had her beheaded.” She sliced her hand across her neck, smiling weakly.
    Bryk remained silent for long minutes. Many of the candles guttered out. Only the glow of the embers lit his pensive face. Ekaterina fell asleep, snoring softly. Kaia dozed, slumped against the wall. Torstein gazed into nothingness.
    Her Viking turned to look at her, his hand resting on the figure of the saint. “You are like her. Brave.”
    ~~~
    Bryk had stood at a fork in the road of life before. He’d made the decision to turn away