Viking

by Fabio

  "Wolfgard is ruthless, without honor," Svein replied bleakly. 'This you should know by now. From what Ottar and I have seen at the enemy village, he will attack again ere long." Svein nodded toward the basket "Especially after this. A most ominous sign, I think."

  "Well, Wolfgard's message may just backfire/' Viktor said with grim determination. For I think I have figured out a way to slow him down a bit."

  That evening Viktor stepped into the bedchamber and spotted his bride seated on the bed, petting Freki. At her feet, three of the pups were jumping about, chirping and battling over a ball of yarn. At the hearth, Freya was nursing the other three pups.

  Smiling at the peculiar domestic scene, Viktor cleared his throat. "Darling, I must be gone late tonight Please don't stay up, or worry about me. "

  Her gaze flashed up to his. "Where are you going?"

  "It is best that you don't know."

  She thrust her chin high. "I am not some child who must be kept in the dark. I am your wife!"

  "Reyna, I realize that. I just feel—"

  'This has to do with Wolfgard's basket delivered today?"

  "Yes."

  "What was in it?' she demanded.

  "Again, I think it best not to comment." He crossed the room to his bench, where he picked up and donned his chain-mail tunic.

  Reyna watched him, her expression angry and resentful. "You are going to battle Wolfgard, are you not?"

  He turned to her contritely. "Darling, I really cannot say,"

  "Verily, you will not say! Do you not trust me?"

  "This has nothing to do with trust."

  "Bah! If you trusted me, you would tell me!"

  "Reyna—"

  "Oh, why do you not just leave?" she demanded moodily.

  With these furious words, Reyna snatched the ball of yam from the pups and hurled it at Viktor. The bemused pups barked shrilly as they vaulted across the room to retrieve their toy.

  Viktor caught the ball of yarn and tossed it into the pups' basket near the hearth. The pups skidded to a halt at his feet, then leaped off, chirping, after their plaything.

  Viktor stepped closer to Reyna, shoring up his patience and offering her a conciliatory smile. "I was surprised when the wolves kept their distance from the pups today. Tell me, is that your doing?'

  She spoke through clenched teeth, her visage belligerent. "You do not share with me-—I do not share with you."

  He groaned. "Now you are behaving like a stubborn child—"

  "Do not dare call me stubborn when you are the one keeping secrets!"

  Sighing, Viktor went to remove his sword and shield from pegs on the wall. "I guess I had better go."

  She said nothing.

  But when he began to leave, he heard her call his name, and turned to her. "Yes?"

  "Be careful," she said in a grudging tone.

  He smiled. "Of course."

  After her husband left, Reyna continued to stew in her resentments. She was now certain that Wolfgard had delivered some dire message in his basket and that her husband had gone off to fight him. If so, why would Viktor not tell her what he was about? Had he finally realized that he could not defeat his enemy peaceably, and did pride hold him back from admitting that she had been right all along?

  Certainly pride held her back from communicating. Verily, sometimes her throat ached from containing her feelings and the wondrous secret she had yet to reveal to Viktor. But she was no closer to telling her husband that she carried his child, still fearing he would see her news as a victory to be used rather than as a private triumph to be celebrated. Nor could Reyna bring herself to share with Viktor the news of her success in taming the wolves and the foxes: how she took the litter to the stable each morning; how the wolves had adopted the pups; how Hati, the female wolf, even licked and mothered the baby foxes.

  Following their spat, Reyna also felt guilty. She missed her husband already and was anxious for his safety. What if he was hurt or killed tonight, with only her bitter words to send him off to his death? She was coming to love him far too much!

  Eager to distract herself from these unpleasant worries, she got up, went over to the hearth, grabbed the basket, and began gathering up the remaining pups.

  "Come on, babies. We are fretful and bored. Let us all go to the stable and see the wolves."

  In the middle of the night, at Wolfgard's wharf, three men bearing wooden mallets stole quietly down the plank toward three sentries who sat near a longship, two of them playing chess while a third looked on, all blissfully unaware of the intruders stalking them. One moment the guards were laughing over a botched chess move; a split second later, amid grunts of pain, all fell unconscious to the pier.

  "Good," said Viktor, staring down at the insensible men. "Ottar, gag them and tie them up." He glanced up at the dark, elegantly carved ship straining at her moorings as the powerful currents tugged at her hull. "She is a beauty, is she not? It almost seems a shame to scuttle her.

  "Her bulwark appears thick," said Svein. "Why do we not just cast her loose in the fjord?"

  "Nay. We are now past the spring thaw, and the fjord is shallow in places," Viktor replied. "She might drift ashore and Wolfgard could recover her."

  "Mayhap he will recover her in any event," Svein fretted.

  "Mayhap. But we'll not make his task easier."

  "We could set her afire," suggested Ottar as he busily bound the ankles of one of the sentries.

  "Yes, but the glow of the fire might be spotted from the village," Viktor pointed out.

  Svein nodded. "Then let us be about our task."

  The two men hopped inside the longship and, using their mallets and large iron bolts, began hammering holes through the dense decking. As soon as he finished tying and gagging the sentries, Ottar joined them. Within half an hour, the boat had sprouted numerous leaks and was filling up with water. The men clambered out and cut the vessel adrift.

  Watching the swift current tug the listing ship into the dark fjord, Viktor smiled in grim satisfaction. "Now, even if Wolfgard recovers her, this should slow him down a bit."

  Later, exhausted, Viktor trudged inside his bedchamber to a wondrous sight. Reyna lay sprawled on the bed, surrounded by Freya, Freki, their pups—and all three wolves! Viktor actually had to blink twice to make sure his eyes were not deceiving him—but yes, all three wolves were there, as well as eight foxes! Two of the pups were even chewing on Thor's ears, as the latter indulged them with an air of boredom.

  Viktor laid aside his sword and shield and stepped farther inside, his expression flabbergasted. Twelve sets of eyes turned to focus on him, and eleven tails wagged.

  "What is this?" he asked his wife.

  Viktor could have sworn he saw relief spring into Reyna's bright eyes. "So you have survived your mysterious mission, my husband?"

  "Obviously. It appears you have been busy, too."

  "Yea, we have all become friends," she replied casually, petting one of the pups.

  'This is your doing? "

  "Yea."

  "But how?"

  Reyna raised one of the pups and nuzzled it against her cheek. She giggled as the little creature licked her. "Gradually, I accustomed the wolves to the scent of the foxes, and rewarded them with food when they did not snarl. Then I brought one of the pups in to the wolves, and Hati soon adopted it. The rest was easy."

  Viktor grinned. "You are amazing."

  She shrugged. "You are gone much, I was bored, and so we all decided to kiss and make up."

  He winked at her tenderly. "Will you kiss and make up with me?"

  She tilted her face at an impudent angle. "I am not sure. Where have you been, my husband?"

  "I went to drill holes in the bottom of Wolfgard's long-ship."

  Unexpectedly, she chortled with glee. "That is most amusing." Then her pouty expression drifted back. "But why did you not tell me of your plans?

  Viktor pulled off his chain-mail tunic and tossed it down on the bench. "Because you wo
uld have insisted on coming along."

  'True. I would have drilled a few holes in Wolfgard's heart." She stretched forward eagerly. "Were you successful in your mission?"

  "Very. His longship is history."

  "Good." She petted Thor and cooed to one of the pups.

  "Er ... Reyna?"

  "Yea?"

  He flashed her a crooked grin. "Where will I steep?"

  She tossed her mane of hair out of reach of a determined pup scampering up her arm. "With all of us, of course."

  "But .. . how?"

  She flashed him a simpering smile. "We will make room."

  He pinned her with a meaningful glance. "And what if I do want to kiss and make up? That is, if you're ready."

  She considered this with a frown, then regarded him saucily. "I am not quite ready, despite your pretty smile and woeful eyes."

  "I have woeful eyes?" he teased.

  Now she, too, was fighting a smile. "Yea, when you try to cajole me."

  "Which I am determined to do right now."

  But as he started toward her eagerly, she held up a hand and glowered. "Do not think you have won my favors, husband. Verily, I am still angry at you for treating me like some child who cannot be trusted with a man's business."

  He made a gesture of entreaty. "Reyna, it had nothing to do with trust It was strictly your safety I was concerned about."

  "Bah! 'Tis no excuse for not sharing,"

  "But I just told you what I was doing tonight. Isn't that sharing?"

  "Nay. You confessed only afterward. Tis not the same."

  "And there's nothing you're not sharing with me?" As her guilty gaze darted away from his, he added, "Like now, when you're holding yourself apart from me?"

  She tried to glare back at him, but her mouth trembled and her gaze became riveted on the muscles of his naked chest.

  "Well, milady? Who's not sharing now?"

  Ignoring his query, she watched him untie his leggings and gulped.

  His voice was thick and insistent when he said, "Reyna, enough of this. I am tired and you are being deliberately perverse. Must I come over there and make you biddable? You know I'm going to, even if you squirm and fight me every inch of the way."

  She sighed, sounding more relieved than acquiescent. "Very well. I will kiss and make up."

  "Finally!" Shucking off his leggings and moving closer, he regarded the crowded bed quizzically. "But how can I make love to you in such a tight space?"

  She reached out to stroke his manhood and licked her lips. "You do it remarkably well every night."

  "Wicked wench!"

  She smiled tenderly and took his hand. "Come on, my husband. You do look tired. Come to bed."

  Naked, Viktor crawled in among eleven squirming dogs, and finally squeezed in next to his wife. He glanced up at Geri, who was panting in his face, while Thor's wagging tail was whacking the crown of his head. Meanwhile, four of the cubs began to leap about and chirp eagerly at his and Reyna's feet, one of them chewing on Viktor's toes through the pelts.

  Viktor scowled murderously. "Reyna, this is ridiculous. I feel like I'm making Love to you in a kennel, with eleven dogs serving as voyeurs. This will never work—"

  " 'Twill work," she said huskily, drawing him closer. "Come here, my husband, and I will show you how two bodies can share the space of one."

  "Hmm ..." he murmured, already thoroughly enjoying the demonstration.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  When morning came across the fjord, Wolfgard was in a terrible rage. Cowering at his feet in the main chamber of his longhouse were the three sentries who had fallen such easy prey to his enemy last night, allowing his newly constructed longship to be cast adrift in the fjord Before sunrise, the relief sentries, upon arriving at the wharf, had found the night watchmen tied up and lying on the planks.

  "How could you have allowed this to happen—you miserable dimwits?" Wolfgard demanded.

  "Jarl, we were patrolling the wharf just as you directed," stammered the first sentry, imploring Wolfgard with dark, fear-filled eyes. "But our enemy took us by surprise—"

  "How could this be if you were attending to your duties?" Wolfgard shouted.

  "Jarl, 'twas dark," protested another.

  "Bah!" scoffed Wolfgard. "Thanks to your stupidity, my enemy has again managed to thwart me." But Viktor the Valiant should not gloat. We will attack—and slay him—if we must first swim across the cursed fjord."

  "Yea, jarl," the men mumbled in unison.

  Another of Wolfgard's warriors charged into the room. "Jarl," cried Egil, "the sentries lie! They were not attending to their duties last night."

  Wolfgard glanced at the guilt-ridden faces of the men, then asked Egil, "How know ye this?"

  Egil crossed to Wolfgard and handed him a small ivory chess piece fashioned in the image of Bragi. "I found this chessman stuck between the planks of the wharf. Verily, I have warned these fools time and time again not to play chess when they should be attending to their duties."

  At this ominous pronouncement, the sentries began quivering with fear and begging their jarl for mercy. Wolfgard was heedless, his battle-scarred face darkening with fury as he fingered die ivory piece. "Find ye the rest of the chessmen?" he asked Egil with low menace.

  "Nay." Egil glowered at die men. "Methinks that, even tied up, they kicked the rest of the chess set into the fjord to cover their infamy ... or mayhap the wind completed the villainous task for them.'

  "Speaks Egil the truth?" Wolfgard roared to the sentries.

  "Nay, jarl, nay!" the men denied.

  Wolfgard hurled the ivory piece into the fire, then waved a fist at the kneeling men. "Miserable whoresons! Your lies have sealed your fate!"

  Amid the horrified expressions of the captives, Wolfgard charged across the room and hauled a wickedly sharp battle-ax down from the wall. Ignoring the doomed men's pleas for their lives, he strode back to loom over them like the Angel of Death, wielding his ax high. He paused only to wonder if he could still lop off two heads in one fell swing.

  He did so, silencing the sentries' cries with a single cruel stroke, then quickly slaying the third man, who had already grown mute with terror.

  Dead silence fell in the wake of the terrible carnage, with only the thuds of heads and bodies falling, and the snap of the fire, to fill the awful void. Then, all at once, two more of Wolfgard's warriors, Bjorn and Leif, burst into the chamber.

  Paying no heed to the grisly scene on the floor, Leif announced excitedly, "Jarl, we have found your longship beached down the fjord. Viktor the Valiant drilled holes in her bulwark, but she can still be salvaged."

  Wiping his blood-spattered ax on the garment of one of the slain men, Wolfgard glanced up, his grin filled with sadistic pleasure.

  Viktor knew that he and his tribe were living on borrowed time, that sooner or later Wolfgard would find a way to attack. Indeed, only a few days after he had set Wolfgard's new longship adrift, he received from Svein the troubling news that several of Wolfgard's men had been spotted repairing the vessel where it had drifted ashore farther down the fjord.

  Thus Viktor prepared his men for imminent battle, planning war games that stressed defensive maneuvers. He also kept Eurich and Svein well occupied helping him build the warfare machines he intended to use to repel the siege. All of his warriors were amazed by the stone-throwing and slinging machines Viktor was constructing—although they would surely become stupefied when they learned what he actually intended to hurl at Wolfgard. The first time he issued orders to Ottar to begin stockpiling "ammunition," the lad responded, "Jarl, you must be jesting," Viktor's response was a solemn shake of his head.

  Reyna, too, took an interest in her husband's fantastical inventions. Late one night when he had not come to bed, she joined him at the blacksmith's cottage, where he was putting the finishing touches on one of his new machines. Just inside the doorway to the small hut, she paused to scowl at the odd contraption filling so much of the room. The large, crude
ly constructed device was composed of a long, stout frame on four wheels, with an upright brace running its width; behind the brace, shooting out at a low angle, was a long timber with a bowl carved at its tip. The plank was suspended by ropes attached to the upright brace. Reyna's husband stood with his back to her as he tugged on the ropes and frowned in fierce concentration.

  She cleared her throat.

  He turned and saw her. "Reyna, what are you doing here?"

  "What are you doing here so late, my husband?" she countered.

  "Just performing my duty to protect home and hearth," he quipped.

  She rolled her eyes. "You are not where you should be."

  "And where is that, my amorous bride?"

  "In bed with me."

  He chuckled. "Just can't resist me, can you? And after the marathon session we held last night! Are you trying to kill me, woman?"

  "A most pleasurable way to be slain."

  His grin was broad. "Agreed."

  Smirking, she stepped forward and nodded toward the odd-looking device he was working on. "What is this, my husband?"

  "It's called a petrary—a stone-throwing machine."

  "Where did you learn of such devices?"

  "When I was in Futuregard at college—"

  "What means 'college'?"

  "A place of higher learning. Anyway, I was a member of a medieval reenactment society, and we constructed machines such as this one for the various events we staged."

  She nodded toward the engine. "How does it work?"

  He sighed. "I'm afraid it doesn't work at all right now." He leaned over to tug on one of the ropes. "In theory, you are supposed to put a large stone in the bowl, then lash the shooting arm down under the frame." He pointed as he spoke. 'Then you adjust the tension really tight, release the beam, and of? the rock flies—"

  To land on Wolfgard's head?" Reyna asked eagerly. "Oh, I am in heaven!"