Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 01]

by The Reluctant Viking

  Ruby raised her chin in silent defiance. “I have to tell you one thing. I can’t be sure that I won’t have to…return to my country some day.”

  Dar scowled. “Keep my grandson in Northumbria, and I would not care if you went to the moon.” Then he seemed disgusted with himself. “Begone! ’Twas foolish to think I could reason with a simple wench.”

  Later, Ruby tried to discuss the conversation with Aud.

  “Mayhap you should consider taking one step at a time,” Aud advised. “Many a mistress has become a second or third wife, oft the more favored of them all for her patience.”

  “Aud! How can you say that? I thought you were a Christian. Can you possibly sanction a man having more than one wife?”

  “Yea, I am Christian, but Viking, as well. We are forced to settle in foreign lands; yet we are the ones who must give up our religion and culture,” she said bitterly. “To keep the peace, little by little we become more Saxon than Viking, and that saddens my heart mightily. Still, ’tis hard to give up the old ways totally.”

  “But more than one wife! It’s outrageous! Are women permitted to have more than one husband?”

  Aud smiled at Ruby’s vehemence. “Of course, not. ’Twould be foolish. At one time, though, ’twas a wise practice for men to have many wives. More danico, the custom was called. When the men traveled a-Viking or trading and were often gone for years at a time, babes were needed to replace the many lost in battle and the struggle to survive.”

  “Hogwash! I think it was a practice devised by men for men’s pleasure,” Ruby scoffed, “and the men got away with it for so long because women are so downtrodden they’re happy just to have the jerks look at them.”

  Aud’s lips twitched at Ruby’s fiery words. “That word ‘jerk,’ methinks I like the sound of it,” Aud commented, deliberately changing the subject. “Does it mean something like a stupid, unfeeling, crude man?”

  “Exactly!” Ruby nodded, with a smile.

  “Good! I will practice using the word.” Aud turned and ordered, “Ella, tell that jerk Vigi to bring more firewood in for the cooking fire.”

  Before Ruby left the kitchen, she asked, “Aud, would you have accepted another wife?”

  Aud’s eyes twinkled as she looked directly at Ruby. “Never! I would have lopped off Dar’s male part afore I would have allowed him to take another wife.”

  Ruby stifled a giggle at Aud’s brazen statement. Then they both burst out laughing at the inconsistency of her logic.

  “Ruby, the differences ’atween us are vast,” Aud said in a more serious tone. “You jump right in and make huge waves, agitating people with your demands and assertions. ’Tis better to wait for the right moment. Patience truly can be a virtue. Heed my words.”

  But Ruby didn’t have time for patience. In little more than a week, the Althing would assemble and Thork would leave Jorvik.

  Exiting the kitchen, Ruby headed determinedly for the fields outside the bailey where at least a hundred Viking men of varying ages, but equal in their supreme physical fitness, engaged in serious military maneuvers.

  “Where did they all come from?” Ruby asked Vigi, her ever-present guard.

  “Some are from Dar’s or Thork’s hirds, their permanent troops. Others are freedmen who work Dar’s lands, and still others were hired to protect the manor when Thork leaves.”

  “Mercenaries?” Ruby began to realize the extent of the danger lurking on the horizon.

  When Thork finally saw her, his nostrils flared with anger. He stomped off the field in a rage, hurling vicious swear words at her. “Why do you bedevil me? Did I not warn you about approaching me again? Get thee inside the bloody keep and find some women’s work to do, else I swear on Odin’s head I will have you trussed and locked in your chamber.”

  Ruby could only gape at him dumbly, her words and intentions lost in the marvelous spectacle he posed before her. Holding his helmet in his right hand, Thork impatiently wiped the sweat off his forehead with a jerky swipe of his left forearm. He breathed heavily from the hard physical labor, and his chest rose and fell, delineating finely honed muscles under the close-fitting chain-mail shirt he wore. Corded muscles in his thighs rippled as he shifted restlessly from foot to foot, waiting for her to leave. His wet, braided hair framed fine cheekbones, drawing attention to blue, blue eyes which impaled her angrily.

  “I just…I just needed to talk to you about something,” Ruby stuttered, realizing she was being scrutinized by many of the males, including Eirik.

  Eirik! For heaven’s sake! Ten years old and wearing miniature armor similar to his father’s. He carried a sword in one hand and a shield in the other! Ruby jumped on that as a warm-up topic before hitting Thork with her other ideas.

  “It’s about Eirik,” she said indignantly. “You’ve got to do something—”

  Ruby heard Eirik protest loudly, calling her a vile name. Thork gasped at her effrontery and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder so quickly she could only grunt in reaction. When they reached the manor, Thork grabbed her bruisingly by the waist and lowered her to the ground, pinning her to the closed door with his palms against her shoulders.

  “Heed me well, wench. Stay out of my way. In fact, stay out of my life.”

  To Vigi he snarled, “Last warning, halfwit! Keep her from my sight, or you are on the next slave ship to dock in Jorvik.”

  When she shuffled peevishly into the keep, Ruby saw Dar standing just inside the door near an open window. He’d witnessed the whole scene. Instead of lashing out at her angrily, like Thork and Eirik, he smiled slyly, as if he shared a secret with her.

  The almost feral look on Thork’s face at the evening meal halted any thoughts Ruby might have had about accosting him again so soon. He doggedly avoided looking in her direction, but then he disdained the fair Linette, as well, to Ruby’s supreme satisfaction. Eating little, Thork drank one goblet of ale after another.

  Once, for barely a second, Thork’s sapphire eyes collided with hers inadvertently, and Ruby felt scorched by the blaze. Was it anger or passion?

  Ruby knew that Thork was as attracted to her as she was to him, but he did a damn good job of fighting it. And he had good reason to do so, she admitted. After all, she couldn’t promise him that she wouldn’t leave Northumbria. Still, she needed to convince him that she came from the future, and it was destined that they be together for however long her sojourn in this land and time period lasted, perhaps even until death.

  When Linette had finally had enough of Thork’s neglect, she leaned over, hanging on his arm seductively, and whispered something in his ear. Probably X-rated. Ruby couldn’t hear the sharp words Thork snarled back, shrugging off her hands in distaste, but she could see the hurt surprise that flashed across Linette’s red face before she burst into tears and ran from the room. Ruby almost felt sorry for Linette.

  “Didst thou hear the news about the bitch, Linette?” Ella asked, sidling up to Ruby.

  “Ella, you shouldn’t use such language, especially when you might be overheard. What news?”

  Ella sniffed dramatically, prolonging the suspense as only a true gossip like her twin Rhoda could have done, then revealed, “Linette is to be wed.”

  Ruby’s heart dropped and tears smarted her eyes.

  “Tsk! Tsk! ’Tis the fool you are, girl. ’Twill not be Thork for her. At the mistress Aud’s prodding, Dar has arranged a marriage for her with some Viking hesir in Denmark—Askold, by name. To be sure, he must not have heard of her many lovers, or else he may be ugly as the backside of a boar. ’Twill be a good match, think you not?”

  Ruby could have wrung Ella’s neck for scaring her, but she was so thankful to find her initial fears unfounded that she gave the thrall a quick hug.

  Ella shrugged out of her arms uncomfortably, looking around to see if anyone had witnessed Ruby’s unbecoming gesture to a lowly servant. When she saw that no one noticed, she smiled at Ruby.

  “Askold comes to the Althing where they w
ill wed and return to his farm in Denmark.” Ella slapped her knee in glee. “Can you just picture Linette milking a cow?”

  Aud walked up to them and inquired coolly of Ella, “Have you naught better to do than spread your tales?”

  “Yea…I mean nay, mistress,” Ella answered sheepishly and scurried away to the kitchen.

  Aud turned her attention to Ruby. “We would have you entertain us with some songs tonight, Ruby. Much have I heard of your sagas and music.”

  Maybe because she’d been exiled to the lower end of the hall, Ruby thought. And because she was two steps away from the executioner’s axe—or blood-eagling knife.

  “Oh, not tonight, Aud.”

  “Dar has asked for you,” Aud told her in a tone which brooked no argument. “Tomorrow the skalds will arrive with the first of our guests. They come from afar to travel with us to the Althing next week. We may never have another chance to hear your wondrous tales.”

  “Guests?” Ruby asked weakly. So the sand had finally sifted through her hourglass, and the Althing was almost at hand. Aud’s pessimism about her not having another chance after this week did not bode well for the outcome of her “trial.”

  The family group had moved from the dais to the fireplace area. Dar sat sipping his ale, studiously avoiding Ruby’s eyes as they approached.

  What was the old goat up to now?

  Occasionally he spoke to Thork, who seemed to answer only in monosyllables. Thork continued to down ale in alarming amounts. When Thork saw her, Ruby thought he would get up and leave. Instead, he glowered at her hatefully, with his upper lip curled, as if she were a vile toad.

  After being handed a lute, Ruby sang the same songs she’d performed at Sigtrygg’s castle—“Ruby,” “Lucille,” “Friends in Low Places,” “Lord, It’s Hard to Be Humble” and “All My Rowdy Friends Are Coming Over Tonight.” The more she sang, the more Thork frowned. He looked tired, as well. Faint circles under his eyes and tension lines around his stubborn mouth spoke of sleepless nights. Was it simply because he’d made love all night long with the insatiable Linette? Or could it be that this building pressure between Ruby and her Viking “husband” troubled him through the endless nights, as it did her?

  When she hit a shrill note, Thork snickered aloud, and Aud chastised him, “Thork, don’t be a jerk.”

  All eyes widened and turned to Aud, who shrugged, “Well, he was acting the jerk.” Then Dar and Thork riveted their eyes accusingly on Ruby, who smiled innocently.

  Noticing Tykir and Tyra at the edge of the family gathering, Ruby sang “Jingle Bells,” delighting them with the raucous carol, as well as her explanation of Christmas in her country. She’d been unable to think of any children’s songs on the trip to Dar’s home, but now she remembered the words to one folk song she thought they’d like, “Puff, the Magic Dragon.” Did Vikings have sagas dealing with dragons? Ruby wondered. Somehow, the image fit.

  Thork continued to glower like an old bear.

  So Ruby told the story of “The Three Bears.” Then she couldn’t resist, probably some innate death wish, and told “Thork and the Beanstalk,” to Thork’s consternation. He probably restrained himself from violence because of the two dozen enthralled family members and hesirs gathered around Ruby. Even an uncharacteristically subdued Linette had come up to stand behind Thork’s chair, unable to resist the charm of Ruby’s stories and songs.

  When Eddie and David had been small, she and Jack had sat like this with them in front of the fireplace, telling stories and singing songs. She’d forgotten the joy of those simple family evenings together, long before Jack stayed later and later at his office, way before she began bringing work home at night. They hadn’t had much then—materially, that is—but, oh, how much richer their lives had been!

  Tears of sweet memory—and regret—filled Ruby’s eyes and she told her rapt audience huskily, “This was my husband Jack’s favorite song.”

  Strumming the lute in her hands lightly, Ruby began the song, “Help Me Make It Through the Night.” When she got to the stanza where the man asks the woman to lay her head down by his side, Thork stood rudely and walked away. Linette ran after him.

  Everyone stared after Thork in surprise, but Ruby continued with her song, even though tears turned her voice raspy. At the end, she happened to glance at Dar. He beamed like a bloody moon.

  The next morning, guests began arriving early. The benches built into the side walls of the great hall would serve as pallets for most of the men. Servants would be bumped to the floor or to the stables and outbuildings.

  Everyone squeezed together to make room for extra people. Even Olaf’s and Gyda’s girls had to move in with them, and the girls’ chamber was given over to a visiting jarl and his wife from beyond Northumbria. Luckily, Ruby’s small tower chamber was too small to accommodate anyone else.

  In the hustle and bustle that overtook the keep that day, everyone ignored Ruby, even at the evening meal where she sat so low at the tables she was practically out the doors. Not that she minded. Her safety lay in being inconspicuous.

  Aud served a simple meal that night to the tired guests. Afterward, a skald told poignant sagas of noble Viking deeds. Ruby knew that these oral traditions would be the vehicles to carry the history of these fanciful people to modern times and that some would be lost forever, never being committed to paper. She vowed to search the next day for the skald to have him repeat for her one epic poem she found particularly moving. It involved two hostile half-brothers, Hloth and Angantyr, who both claimed their dead father’s kingship. In the end, Angantyr searched the battlefield for his dead brother, saying:

  “…Untold arm rings I offered thee, brother,

  a wealth of gold and what most thou didst wish.

  As guerdon for strife now hast gotten neither,

  nor lands nor lieges nor lustrous rings.

  A baleful fate wrought it that, brother I slew

  thee! Will that aye be told…”

  In listening to the poem, Ruby marveled that these primitive people could express themselves so sensitively. And she thought of Thork and his brother Eric, realizing that, like Hloth and Angantyr, they would never have the warm sibling relationship two brothers should have.

  Aud was in her element the next morning as she directed the bustling activities in the kitchen. Gyda worked busily at her side, arranging meals for the day, including a sumptuous banquet for the evening.

  A steady stream of servants, including a grumbling Ella, marched to the various chambers with linens and bowls of fresh water for the guests. The men had left before first light on a short hunting expedition to kill fresh game to supplement the usual fish and poultry fare. Some of the male thralls already returned with the first of the kill—a brace of rabbits, two deer and several wild grouse.

  “Ruby, would you go with Vigi and collect some fresh mushrooms for dinner?” Aud asked.

  “Of course.” Ruby was glad to be of help and to keep busy. “Shall we pick some blueberries, too? They would be good with fresh cream or baked in a pastry.” Aud’s eyes lit up at that suggestion, and they exchanged ideas on how best to make a flaky crust for the dessert.

  Before she left, Ruby invited Tykir and Tyra to join her, taking linens and soap with her, figuring they may as well combine her errand and a bath. Ruby saw several of Dar’s and Aud’s distinguished guests eye her T-shirt and jeans with cool curiosity.

  When their baskets were full, Tykir and Tyra waded merrily near the edge of the pond. Later, Ruby told the children to go play near Vigi at the edge of the clearing so she could bathe in private. Before they left, she asked Vigi if she could borrow the eating knife he always carried at his waist.

  “Why?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Oh, really! It’s not as if I could disarm you. You still have your sword. I just want to shave my legs, for heaven’s sake! I’m beginning to feel like a porcupine.”

  Vigi’s eyes widened in surprise. Ruby knew he already considered her half-crazy
. He handed the knife to her, though, admonishing her to give it right back. He probably already rehearsed in his mind the fun he’d have back at the keep telling of this weird stranger’s latest antics.

  Tykir and Tyra thought it a great joke that Ruby had whiskers on her legs just like their fathers had on their faces. They asked her to lift her pant leg so they could touch them.

  “’Tis like the bristles on a hog’s skin afore the butchering,” Tykir declared in amazement. Tyra fell over in exaggerated glee at his words.

  When she finished bathing and shaving her legs with soap lather and Vigi’s razor-sharp knife, nicking herself only a few times, the children asked to touch her legs again. Their mouths formed little “o’s” of surprise at the smoothness.

  After she’d helped Aud and Gyda prepare the blueberry pastries, Ruby went to her room where Ella was laying out a lovely dress.

  “’Tis a gift from the master and mistress for yer storytelling yestereve,” Ella explained.

  Heavy gold braiding edged the hem, wrists and neckline of the simple burgundy silk dress, whose soft fabric molded her breasts and outlined her narrow waist, held in tightly by a gold braided belt. When she walked, the dress followed the lines of her narrow hips and long legs. Other than her lingerie, Ruby wore only a thin chemise, loving the feel of the sensuous cloth against her skin.

  But Ruby went unnoticed, or so she thought, in the noise and bustle of the banquet room. Still exiled to the end of the room, Ruby was pleased to see that Linette had been bumped from the dais for the many visiting high-born Vikings. Many would go on to Jorvik and Sigtrygg’s castle the next day, while others would wait until next week to travel with Dar and his family to the Althing. Everywhere the crowd buzzed with news of Sigtrygg’s upcoming wedding.