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With this novel, Gilbert and Cudmore bring their Tavland Vikings duology to a strong and satisfying conclusion. This installment is set in the years 1000-1001, soon after the first book, and takes place entirely on the authors' fictional island country of Tavland. Here, Ellisif, Dagar and their family connections appear only briefly, in passing, and though Hakon and Inara play more of a role than the latter do, they're secondary characters. Our focus this time is on just one aristocratic couple, young (I don't recall if her age was stated, but I pictured her as about 20) Kadhrin Finnleik and Jarl Vikarr Lodbrok, who's not much older. (He's said to be in his early 20s.) They were betrothed by their families as children (but also share a mutual attraction). The wedding has been delayed for the past two years, while the Finnleiks made an extended visit to the court of the Danish king, Sven Fork-beard, who's a distant relative of Kadhrin's mother. (He was a real-life person, as were the other non-Tavish political figures of that day who are mentioned in places.) But as our story opens, their returning ship is just pulling into the harbor of Ladborg, Tavland's largest “city� (though by our standards, none of these towns would be very large), where Vikarr lives.

Political intrigue will play a major role in this book. (Some of the background to this is hinted at in the previous installment, but it's developed more fully here.) Tavland hasn't been a single entity for very long. Previously divided into several independent regional fiefdoms, it was united in the late 900s by Vikarr's father, Grune Lodbrok, for the most part peacefully. He was able to use the well-founded fear of foreign invasion to convince the other jarls to unite for common defense and accept him as king. But he died before his oldest son, Vikarr, was old enough to rule; so the Thing (the popular assembly of all of the male landowners, which in the semi-democratic polity of the Scandinavian peoples wielded a lot of power) gave the kingship to his younger brother Dungad; and when Dungad died in 998, a majority of the Thing chose his son Eadric as king, rather than Vikarr. Both cousins had fully expected –and wanted-- Vikarr to be chosen. They both accepted the decision. But though Eadric has good qualities and comes across well in small group settings, he's uncomfortable speaking to crowds, untested in battle, and not naturally very decisive. After two years, he still hasn't grown well into the kingly role. Vikarr, on the other hand, is a born leader, a proven warrior, and already shoulders a lot of the decision-making and public speaking for his cousin. By now, more and more people are having second thoughts about their choice, frustrated with the king's passivity, and contemplating the idea of replacing him with Vikarr; and Vikarr shares that frustration, and struggles at times with the same temptation. There's grist for high-stakes drama here.

However, this isn't solely a novel about medieval politics. It's also very much a novel about marital dynamics, and about the personal growth of the main characters. The political aspects of the tale are a natural part of this basic focus on characters, personal growth, and personal choices. Indeed, while there's no single climactic moral choice that faces our two co-protagonists, there are a variety of important questions about what's right or wrong to do that arise in the normal course of their life together. Not surprisingly, with two evangelical Christians as authors, Christian faith forms a moral and spiritual context for our lead couple's thinking. (Tavland was declared officially “Christian� by King Grune, and the faith --of course, in the Roman Catholic form, but denominational distinctives don't bulk large here-- is genuinely spreading among the people; it's far from universally shared, and probably no more than nominal even for many of its supposed adherents, but both Kadhrin and Vikarr take it more seriously.) True, the kinds of specific issues grappled with here are peculiar to the time and place. (For instance, what exactly do you do with former concubines your family owned, who have no particular legitimate employment prospects and no obvious place to go? Or, how does your theoretical belief that working to free other people's slaves is a good thing to do square with the fact that you happen to own a bond-slave , whom you'd much rather not do without?) But we can relate to the basic underlying questions of what's really most important in decision making, and how the other humans in your world deserve to be treated.

Many of the general comments in my review of the first book would also apply to this one. Again, the narration is past tense in the third person, and again I couldn't detect any obvious “seamsâ€� or stylistic differences between the two writers' contributions to the whole. Lifelike, nuanced characters are a strength of both books; and both our main characters here are very human, with a mixture of qualities that can be both positive and negative. Kadhrin, for instance, is a basically kind person, smart (even though illiterate), and possessed of great strength of character, courage, and resolution. She's also headstrong, impulsive in ways that aren't always well considered, and ambitious to do great things –of course, for the betterment of Tavland; but she's not really aware of how much ambition for her own renown and satisfaction may play into that. Vikarr is a man of real integrity, intelligent (few Viking leaders in that day could read, but he's mastered the skill), with a strong sense of duty, noblesse oblige, and compassionate responsibility to those dependent on him. But he's also got his blind spots; and he's not always emotionally perceptive, not good at showing affection in public, and doesn't necessarily take advice well. Neither of these people have ever been married before, so they're learning to navigate the relationship by trial and error; and the development and maturation of their feelings is very believable. (Other characters are realistic as well, though not so deeply drawn.) Another strength is the solid research into the period that underlies the work, allowing our authors to bring the Viking world vividly to life (and without infodumps). The plot is ably constructed, and genuinely suspenseful in the last chapters, where the reader is not sure what will happen. Dialogue is not archaic sounding, though the writers don't include anachronisms (and in “translatingâ€� their characters' Old Norse speech into modern English, they retain the proto-Germanic â€�Âá²¹â€� --cognate with the English “yeahâ€�-- for a period effect). Overall, for me this was an immersive reading experience, and a real page-turner.

A few nits can be picked here. I'm not sure Vikings would have used surnames like Lodbrok or Finnleik at this early a date, rather than just the patronymic (for instance, Grunsson, or Torstensdatter). On one page, Grumsborg is twice said to be the eastern part of Tavland, though the map places it in the west. And a couple of times, characters travel from Ladborg to Voslo by ship; but the latter is well inland, and would be more practical to travel to over land. But these are quite minor points! This was an excellent read, and I would highly recommend it to all fans of medieval (and especially of Viking) historical fiction.

Note: Although I was given a review copy of the series opener, I purchased this sequel, as soon as I learned it had been published!