Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 01] (21 page)

“Linette went along fer the company,” she added, rolling her eyes dramatically. “And Gyda be spittin’ mad that Linette travels with her husband, sez she does not trust the witch with her man. Aud and the master bin’ arguing sumpin’ fierce all day and she sez she will not speak to him till he gets the wench a husbin. And the master Dar sez all the trouble began when you came to the manor.”

“Me?” Ruby exclaimed after Ella’s long-winded ramble. “What have I to do with Linette’s alley-cat morality?”

“’Twould seem Linette hid her doin’s better till this past few days when you arrived.”

Ruby realized as she looked up to the dais that evening that this time Ella had her facts straight. Aud deliberately turned her face away from Dar throughout the meal and talked only to her other eating companions. Dar’s face
reddened as he downed one horn of ale after another, refusing food. Once he looked directly at Ruby and glared. It seemed Ruby had one more vote against her at the Althing.

The next morning, after breaking her fast on bannock and cheese, Ruby sought out Aud. She found her in the large, separate outside kitchen where she was removing several baskets from their pegs on the walls.

“I go now to gather mushrooms. Tomorrow we will dry them,” Aud told the cook.

“Can I come with you?” Ruby asked.

Aud jumped in surprise, clasping her chest. “Why?”

“I used to pick mushrooms with my grandmother. I was pretty good at selecting the nonpoisonous ones, but you may have different varieties here. You could show me.”

Aud looked suspicious and not too excited about her company, but she didn’t deny Ruby’s request.

“Would you object if I asked Eirik and Tykir to come with us? Perhaps we could bring a basket of food with us and eat our midday meal outdoors by the pond.”

A brief look of something akin to pain flickered on Aud’s face before she deliberately masked her face with blankness. “Eirik went with Thork and Olaf to help load the ships.”

“How about Tykir?”

After a long pause, Aud replied, “If you wish.”

When their baskets overflowed with the succulent fungi, they returned to the pond and spread their food over a flat boulder. Tykir played merrily at the edge of the water, trying to catch a frog which kept eluding his slippery grasp. Ruby saw Aud gazing at him with sad, yearning eyes.

Now that she had Aud alone, Ruby broached the subject that bothered her most. “Aud, I’m worried about Eirik and Tykir, especially since Thork will be leaving soon.”

Aud got up and started to clear away the food items, not wanting to engage in this forbidden subject.

“Aud, I wouldn’t bring this up if I didn’t truly care about your great-grandsons. If Thork insists on leaving them in someone else’s care, why can’t they stay with you?”

“’Tis Thork’s decision. Whether I agree or not is unimportant. ’Tis for their own safety.”

The look on Ruby’s face must have lacked understanding because Aud continued, “You have ne’er met Harald and his vicious family. Pray God, you ne’er do.” Tears misted Aud’s eyes and her voice cracked as she went on, “Our only child, Enid, a beautiful, gentle soul, went to him, despite our wishes. ’Tis not unusual for a Viking to have more than one wife, especially the high-kings. Two there were in Harald’s household afore Enid. She loved him so much it mattered naught, but when he put her and eight other wives aside for his new wife Ragnhild, in addition to numerous mistresses, the shame killed her. They say she took her own life, but, to my mind, ’twas the evil Harald who killed her.”

Aud wiped her eyes angrily. “We tried to get Thork after Enid’s death, to have him live here with us, but Harald would not allow it. Ne’er mind that he has bred twenty sons or more, not that many of them lived to manhood. The brothers kill each other right and left in their ambition to succeed their father as high-king.”

“That’s why Thork decided to become a Jomsviking, isn’t it?”

“Yea. How he lived to age fourteen in that bloody household, I will ne’er know. He will not talk of it. I do know his half-brother Eric…Eric Bloodaxe, they name him…vowed long ago to see Thork dead and all that he holds dear.”

“Oh, my God!”

“Yea, and so you should pray for him. Eric fears Thork mightily, even though he renounced rights to succession. The people hate Eric and well he knows it. The least hint
that Thork would fight for the kingship on his father’s death, and Vikings would clamor to his call.”

Ruby nodded her head. “I can understand now why Thork feels he must pretend he has no sons, even why he thinks marriage would be impossible. Still, I have to believe there’s a better solution.” She thought about all that Aud had told her, then asked ruefully, with a laugh, “Did Thork tell you I proposed?”

“Proposed?”

“I asked him to marry me.”

“No-o-o,” Aud replied in amazement, and then giggled.

“He declined, but I’m going to ask again. I have to. That’s probably why he scooted off to Jorvik.” Inside, Ruby quivered at the prospect of approaching Thork again, but she knew she had no choice, and not just because of her safety. She couldn’t let this man she was beginning to love believe she lied to him.

“I think you will not succeed,” Aud said gently, placing a comforting hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “In some ways, ’tis too bad. We need him here to help fight off the Saxons when they eventually come. We have ridden the fence here, adopting Saxon ways, trying to be peaceable neighbors, but ’tis foolish to think they will allow us to keep such valuable land without a fight.”

“Then why doesn’t Thork stay?”

Aud shrugged. “’Tis the Jomsviking. An honorable man does not break oath lightly.”

Disheartened, Ruby sighed. “I’ve set myself an impossible task, haven’t I?”

“Child, even if Thork agreed to give up Jomsviking and stay here, he could not wed you. He would need a wife with lands and the strong hands of her family—fathers and brothers—to join us in alliance.”

Ruby asked hesitantly, “Would kinship with Hrolf bring a strong enough alliance?” What was she saying? How in
hell could she get to this ancient ancestor of hers, convince him she truly was his granddaughter “fifty times removed” and then talk him into sending armies from Normandy? Maybe she was becoming as daft as everyone thought.

“Do you tell me true? Are you Hrolf’s kin?” Aud’s face brightened and she clasped Ruby’s hands hopefully.

Ruby put her right hand over her heart. “I swear to you, Aud, on the body of the Christ we both hold dear, I am kin to Hrolf.” She held her left hand behind her back with fingers crossed for her half-truth of omission.

“Mayhap there will be a way out of this, after all,” Aud declared.

Ruby wondered if she’d put her foot in her mouth once again.

“By your leave, my fine lady, I would speak with you in my private chamber,” Dar said several days later with exaggerated politeness.

Ruby looked behind her to make sure he’d been addressing her.

“Yea, I mean you, wench, and make haste.”

He and Thork and Olaf had returned the day before, but Thork parried her overtures to speak with him like a bloody gladiator, while Linette practically purred, ignoring the gossip she’d created by going off with the men.

Ruby followed Dar into the small chamber off the great hall, where he conducted estate business. Seating her in a chair next to his by the small fireplace, Dar spoke his mind bluntly. “Aud would convince me that you are, in truth, kin to Hrolf.” He leaned back in the huge, carved chair, with legs outstretched casually, but his half-veiled eyes twitched nervously as he watched her every move speculatively.

“Hrolf is a direct blood relative of mine.”

“Do you swear it on the holy book of your church?”

“I swear on the Holy Bible that I am kin to Hrolf.”

Dar nodded, seeming to accept her word and weighing the implications. “Have you ever met the Marcher? Would he recognize you?”

Ruby’s shoulders sagged and she shook her head.

Dar gave a short wave of dismissal with the fingers of his right hand, which had been propping up his chin in a thoughtful pose. “Mayhap ’tis of no importance. To be sure, King Harald has more than fifty grandchildren and not met half by far, although only Odin knows how many still live. ’Tis not unusual that you have not met Hrolf.”

“Why are you asking these questions?”

“Mayhap I would be willing to intercede on your behalf at the Althing if ’twould help to keep my grandson here in Northumbria.”

“You would help me get Thork to marry me?” Ruby smiled eagerly at the craggy old man.

“Nay, I would not,” Dar snorted. “Thork must needs marry for lands and military might to aid our defense against the Saxons. I have a well-born maid in mind, Elise—half Viking, half Saxon she be—with lands and fighting brothers to dower and protect her in marriage.”

Ruby’s heart dropped at Dar’s pragmatic words. “Then why would you help me?”

“Methinks you would make a fine bedmate for my grandson. I see the attraction you hold for him, though I cannot fathom it myself. Perchance you could entice him to stay.”

“
Me?
You give me too much credit,” Ruby exclaimed. “Have you seen how he avoids me and allows himself to be ensnared in Linette’s web?”

Dar laughed. “Yea, he avoids you with a most peculiar vengeance and makes much ado in public over Linette. These old eyes see more than that, though. Methought
you were clever enough to sense it, too.” His eyes raked her over scornfully, as if he were having second thoughts about her usefulness in whatever plot he was hatching. “Mayhap I do give you more credit than you warrant.”

“I know Thork wants me in his bed—for now, at least—but I need more than that, and I certainly wouldn’t share him with that spider. It must be marriage or nothing, Dar.”

“For a thrall, you make demands above yourself,” Dar seethed, slamming his wine goblet on a small table near his chair. “Mayhap you should consider which is more important to you, your head or your affronted virtue?”

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 will 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.