“You won’t believe what the camera caught last night, Hlif,” Leif said from where he sat in front of the bank of monitors. He chuckled softly. “Seeing this, I understand now why they thought it necessary to adjust the angle of the camera.”
Hlif minimized the website she was perusing and went to peer over Leif’s shoulder. She blinked at the images and shook her head. “Sweet heavens, these kids are not serious.”
“What shall we do with these?”
“I don’t think we can use it, just the thought that we have seen the footage, might serve as a deterrent for any future attempts to mess with the equipment.”
***
Shawn found Hanna in the tomb, giving instructions to the diggers on how to access the boat without damaging the fragile structure. He waited for her to finish up, before approaching her. She took one look at his face and frowned.
“What happened?”
He shook his head. “Nothing, really. I only wanted to discuss something with you.”
She looked around. “Would you like to go someplace else?”
“Here’s fine.” He led her to a quieter corner of the tomb. “I wanted to ask you about a statue. I know we opened the tomb together for the first time, but I was wondering if there was a statue in the tomb. A life-sized statue, perhaps?”
Hanna looked puzzled. “Not that I recall, no. Why?”
He looked at her, wondering how to answer her. In the end, he smiled and threw his hands up. “Just a hunch I wanted to explore. Anyway, I thought we should rethink our schedule. I know we decided we’d leave the dating process for later, but I think we should move it up.”
“It could be done. May I ask why, though?” Hanna unscrewed the bottle of water in her hand and took a sip.
“Well, as you know, Aeron is here and I was showing her around this morning. She made a discovery that made me doubt the age of items or at least some of them.”
“I… I don’t think I understand, professor. It’s officially acknowledged that the arrival of the Vikings in the 9th century would be the cut-off for all Viking related finds on Iceland. What did Aeron find?”
“A coin and a tablet that dates back to the 1st century.”
The bottle slipped from Hanna’s hand and landed with a thud in the dirt at their feet. “That’s… that’s…” Hanna bit down on her lower lip. “What do you think?”
He was relieved when she didn’t question Aeron expertise on the subject. After the Aspen find, Aeron was highly regarded in the industry. Her work as the Head of Antiquities and Historical Artefacts department at Empire Incorporated had further elevated her position as a respected industry leader. Hanna seemed to know that too.
“I think for peace of mind, we should have the personal items all dated as soon as possible.”
“I agree. I’ll make calls today to see when we can be squeezed in.”
“You do that. In the meantime, I could find out from my daughter-in-law if her Antiquities and Historical Artefacts department could assist on such short notice.
Hanna grinned. “Must be nice having the richest woman for a daughter in law?”
“Well, it does have its benefits.”
***
Bo had made it a point to keep up with developments in Iceland. It was after all her country of birth. Over the last decade or so, Iceland had grown to become a holiday destination of choice. There was a dramatic increase in the number of new hotels and other tourist accommodation. Even then, many things were still unchanged after twenty years, she realized, as she pointed the nose of her rented car towards Reykjavik’s Old Town. It was still as charming as she remembered with the colourful houses, narrow streets, and quaint cafes. Every Sunday afternoon, her parents used to take her for walks around the neighbourhood. A pang of sadness left her numb for a few second as an acute longing for her parents surged through her. They were good people and she will miss them to the day she died. Bo deliberately avoided driving down the street where their old house was located and took a detour to the living assistance home her grandmother called home now.
She was surprised to be greeted with familiarity by the staff when she entered the building and was quickly signed in and escorted to her grandmother’s apartment. Magarethe Lund’s apartment was on the first floor and Bo felt herself becoming nervous as they neared the apartment assigned to her grandmother. She hadn’t had a face-to-face meeting with her grandmother in twenty years, except for a few video calls and pictures. They kept all contact to a minimum to avoid alerting their pursuers. The door to the apartment was ajar and the nurse smiled at Bo and left.
Bo took a deep breath before she checked her watch. It was almost six. She knocked softly. The radio was playing inside, tuned to a classical music station. When there was no response, she knocked again. She heard movement in the apartment and the next moment a tall, silver-haired woman with icy blue eyes came into view. Bo blinked in surprise. When she was younger, people used to say that she favoured her grandmother in looks more than she did her parents, but with the shock of dark hair, Bo couldn’t see the resemblance and thus hadn’t bothered too much with the assessment. Now that the hair had gone white and with her steely light eyes and height, it still stunned Bo by how much Magarethe resembled her.
“Borgny?” Magarethe asked softly, almost breathlessly.
“Grandmother?” Bo replied carefully. The last time they had met in person, Bo had been eighteen years old. She had forgotten how intimidating her grandmother could be.
The woman smiled and Bo relaxed. She remembered that smile and when she was pulled into a tight embrace, she enjoyed the feeling. The touch and smell were very familiar too.
“You are so beautiful,” Magarethe said when she pulled back to look at Bo. They were almost the same height, but the older woman’s presence made her appear taller than Bo. “Your pictures are not doing you any justice. Come in. Have you already had lunch?”
“On the plane, yes.”
Magarethe snorted. “Plane food is terrible. I’ll warm up some lamb stew for you.”
The interior of the apartment was a surprise. A floor to ceiling bookcase covered a wall. The absence of a TV confirmed that Magarethe’s preferred choice of relaxation was reading. She heard her grandmother tinkering in the small kitchen and Bo decided to do a bit more exploring. Except for the books, a few paintings on the wall, and the radio, the lounge was rather bare. There were no knickknacks from travels, nor any personal pictures. A hallway leads deeper into the apartment but Bo knew it would be extremely rude to go down there.
“How was your flight?”
She spun around to find her grandmother behind her, two mugs in her hands. Hooded blue eyes studied Bo. “Some coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.” She took a sip and smiled. It was great coffee. “It tastes wonderful.”
“I know. You’ve always loved my coffee,” Magarethe said with a smirk. “So, tell me about your life. How’s America? Are you in a relationship?”
Bo blushed. She had also forgotten how direct her grandmother was. “Uhm… America is great. I love it there. As for a partner…No, I’m still single.”
Magarethe frowned. “Single? You? What do you mean you’re still single? Don’t the men have eyes over there?”
Bo hastily lifted the mug to her lips, to hide her discomfort, and burned her tongue in the process. She blinked away the tears of pain, aware of her grandmother’s sharp gaze on her.
“It’s not the men’s gazes you are interested in now, is it?”
She slowly lifted her head to meet her grandmother’s eyes. They were so like hers, almost colourless. “Yes, Grandmother, I’m gay.” She waited for the woman’s reaction. When it came, it was not what Bo expected.
“Well,” Magarethe said slowly, her eyes lightening even further, “we should compare techniques while you’re here.”
Startled by the older woman’s confession, Bo’s mug jerked and she shot to her feet when the scalding coffee dripped onto her jean-clad thigh.<
br />
***
A soft knock at the door drew Shawn’s gaze from the picture of the tablet he was studying. He looked up to find Hlif in the doorway. As always, she was dressed impeccably, this time a dark, pinstriped suit, minus the jacket. Shawn wished he could look that smart in a suit.
He waved Hlif in and watched as she took in the items on her way over to his desk. Her gaze seemed to linger longer on the glass case where the jewels were kept. She suddenly looked up.
“You’re working through a lot of things here.” A grin tugged playfully at the corner of her lips. “Wonder how the students get anything done considering their nightly escapades.”
Shawn dropped his face in his head. “Oh no! What did they do this time?” If the students continued to mess with the surveillance equipment, he would have no choice but to cut their field trip short and approach another school. Maybe bringing in a few graduates would not be a bad idea.
“Oh, believe me when I tell you that we’re both too old to see stuff like that.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Worse.”
Shawn slowly lifted his head. “They didn’t do anything…” A sable brow shot up. “I mean they didn’t break anything of yours.”
Hlif grimaced. “They stripped me of my innocence, but I can live with that.”
“Sweet heavens!” He needed to have a talk with their supervising lecturer. It wouldn’t do for the students to be seen as exploiting the Icelanders’ hospitality by engaging in lewd acts. They had either tone it down or be sent back to the States. “I’ll talk with their supervisor and get back to you. I’m sorry you had to see all that.”
“No need to apologize, professor. I’ve seen a lot of things in my day.”
“But this was not what you expected to find on an educational field trip?”
Hlif shrugged. “They’re young and get bored at night.”
Shawn shorted. “Really? Do you think that explanation would work on your parents?”
The head of security chuckled. “Probably not.” She looked around her. “So, how’re things going? I might be working on the surveillance side, but I’ve always had an interest in archaeology.”
“In that case, come take a look at this.” He turned the picture around so Hlif could see the image.
“What am I looking at?”
“A tablet. To be more specific, a tablet which, until a few hours ago, we thought dated back to the 9th century.”
Hlif looked up. This close, her eyes looked like they were filled with dense, voluminous thunderclouds. “What changed your opinion?”
Sitting back in his chair, Shawn sighed. “My daughter-in-law.” He had to tread carefully so as not to reveal Aspen’s secret. “She recognized the language as a Finnic dialect spoken during the 1st Century AD. It died out long before the first Vikings arrived on Iceland.”
“Wow!” Hlif stood up straight, her great height causing her to tower over him. “That’s amazing.” She gave him a quizzical look. “Or don’t you think so?”
Shawn smiled. “No, you’re right. It’s an awesome discovery, should the radiocarbon and electroanalytical dating data confirm the exact date or, at the very least, a close estimate.”
“But?”
“That would mean that we are about six centuries off. In archaeological terms, that means we’re screwed. What we thought we knew of Queen Gurith means zilch. We would have to start from scratch and come up with a timeline for her. I have a number of books on her that could help with that, but what then, if they too got the dates wrong. How reliable could the information be?” He sighed and noticed that Hlif had a far-off look in her eyes. He had probably bored her to death. “I didn’t mean to offload my self-doubt on you. Sorry about that.”
Hlif held up her hand. “Please, don’t apologize. You found her tomb. That is a significant achievement. If it so happens that the dates got all mixed up, then I believe I could help with that.”
Shawn gaped at Hlif. “You? I… I don’t understand?”
“I know someone from this area who knows a lot of things about things. I’m not sure if she would want to help, but I could ask. But only as a very last resort, Professor. Better keep it to yourself for now and when all your other avenues come up empty, give me a call.”
Shawn slowly came to his feet. “That’s great news, Hlif. You have my word that I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“Good.”
“This person… How do you know her, if I may ask?”
“Through my grandmother. She was the one who told my grandmother all those stories about Valkyries and stuff. She has all these old books that she keeps locked away in an underground bunker.”
Books! Yes, he could work with books. “You just made my day, Hlif. Are we still on for dinner tonight? We’ve decided to eat at our hotel.” He supplied the name of the quaint boutique hotel they were staying.
“I’ll see you at seven, Professor.” She checked her watch. “In little over an hour, to be exact. I hope you don’t mind me coming as I am.”
“Not at all.” She still looked fresh and crisp this late in the day.
Shawn was still humming with excitement long after Hlif had left. Who would’ve thought that his rescue would come from such an unlikely source? Suddenly filled with energy, he thought of finding Doctor Dana Keene to address the issue with her students. Afterwards, he’ll pop in at the tomb to check on Hanna and the diggers. It had proved too risky to walk deeper into the boat without damaging it, thus a smaller version of a cherry picker was brought in to access the items packed further down in the boat.
Everything seemed to be falling into place today.
Chapter 8
Bo was sure the lamb stew must’ve been tasty, if the wonderful aroma coming from the bowl was any indication. However, she might just as well have been eating soaked sawdust for all she cared. Her eyes switched between the ring on her grandmother’s hand and her bowl of stew.
She kept asking herself if she’d heard correctly and that her grandmother had just came out to her in a very nonchalant manner. If so, then what about the ring? And her grandfather? She remembered her father telling her that her grandfather had died at a young age. Was that a lie? She had come to Iceland for answers, not more questions. She dropped her spoon in the bowl and fixed her grandmother with a piercing look.
“I’ve lived more than half my life with unanswered questions, Grandmother. I’m tired of not knowing.” She blinked slowly. “Unless you can give me answers, I’m leaving.”
The older woman smiled thinly, her eyes sharp. “Is that a threat, Borgny?”
“No. It’s a promise.”
Magarethe held her gaze for a long moment, before she nodded. “Good. What do you want to know?”
“Tell me about my parents’ murder? I’ve always felt you knew much more than you were willing to share.” Bo saw a shadow flashed over Magarethe’s eyes. “I’m thirty-eight years old, Grandmother. I need to know.”
The woman dropped her face in her hands and sat like that for a few tense moments. “Your parents knew what they were getting themselves into.”
Bo frowned. What a strange way of trying to explain a murder. “That’s rather harsh, don’t you think?” They were her parents, after all.
Magarethe lifted her head and Bo could swear that the woman had aged in the past few seconds. She looked tired and strangely, vulnerable. “For the past five hundred years, there had been inexplicable murders across Scandinavia. The authorities were stumped by these slayings, because no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t make a connection.”
“But you knew what connected these murders?”
“Yes, as did your parents.”
Bo felt faint. Her parents knew. Was that what got them killed? “Was that why they were murdered?”
Magarethe looked away, but not before Bo saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Yes and no. They knew why these people were killed and they also knew that one day the same fate would befall th
em.”
Bo gasped as her eyes shot full of tears. Her parents knew that they were going to be murdered. It must be horrifying to know that every day could be your last. Was that why they spent so much time with her? Lovingly doted on her? She felt a hand on hers and she slowly pulled away. When she looked at her grandmother, she saw the pain on her face at her snub.
“You did nothing to save them.”
“I couldn’t. They sacrificed their lives so we; you and I, could live.”
Goosebumps broke out on Bo’s arms. “To save us? Why?”
“That’s a very long story. One, I can’t go into right now, because the walls have ears.”
Bo looked around. This was becoming too much for her. Did her return possibly bring the murderers back to Iceland? She stood. “Let’s go. You’re coming with me.”
Magarethe shook her head sadly. “I can’t. If they see me with you, you could be in grave danger.” Bo struggled to pull the reluctant woman to her feet. For a sixty-eight-year-old woman, Magarethe was surprisingly strong.
“Either you come with me or I stay here until we both get killed. You decide what it will be?” The older woman let out a string of the crudest swear words under her breath. “Grandmother!”
“What?” Her eyes glittered with anger. “Can’t I show my displeasure? Or is that choice also taken from me?”
Bo rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not as if I’m kidnapping you.”
“Makes me wonder what the definition of kidnapping is in America,” the older woman spat and stomped off to the door. Just as she pulled the door open, a man turned away from where he must’ve been listening at the door. He wasn’t quick enough and Bo caught a fleeting look of his face. She felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. Her worst fear had come true. She had brought the danger with her to Iceland.
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