Sandra Hill - [Vikings I 01] (27 page)

“Do not push me, Selik. You will not like the results.”

“Methinks you play the dog in the manger,” Selik said with a grin, apparently undaunted by Thork’s dire warnings. “If you do not want the wench, Thork, there are others who do.” Selik winked slyly at Ruby.

“Ruby is my responsibility,
boy
. Go find some dimwitted slut who knows not the difference between a man and a boy.”

Instead of taking umbrage at the insult, Selik hooted with glee at the expression on Thork’s face. “Smitten! Thor’s blood! Ne’er did I think to see the day! The maid has skewered you good and fine.”

After Selik left, Ruby and Thork continued to hear his fading laughter.

“So now you practice your wiles on boys.”

“I did not.”

“Best you be praying instead of flirting, wench,” he lashed out, reminding her of her dire circumstances.

Before Ruby fell asleep that night, she decided she liked Thork’s proprietary manner. It spoke of deeper feelings he would not admit.

When she awakened early the next day, she ate a cold meal and washed up in a stream, then went to the opening ceremonies for the Althing with Aud. Women didn’t participate, except as occasional witnesses, but they were permitted to watch. A massive, open-sided tent screened a low platform from the summer sun. Sigtrygg sat in the place of honor, along with twenty well-dressed jarls, including Dar. At least five hundred freemen of Northumbria, who had the right to vote, surrounded them on the ground.

“With the law shall the kingdom be built up, and with lawlessness wasted away,” a booming voice called out, officially declaring the opening of the Althing.

“That is the law speaker, Assen.” Aud pointed to an imposing figure who had moved to the head of the jarls. “He will read one-third of all the laws contained in the Danelaw legal codes from memory, then one-third next year and one-third the following year. Listen, he explains the Viking law and specific crimes and punishments.”

While some of the punishments were downright barbaric, such as chopping off a hand for thievery, or stoning a witch, or decapitating a traitor, most of the laws were based on a simple premise: an innocent man should not be unjustly accused, and the guilty should not be protected.

“Your case will not come before the Thing today,” Thork said, coming up to Ruby where she sat on a slight hill to the side of the platform. She and Aud had a perfect view of the proceedings under Vigi’s diligent guard.

Ruby breathed a sigh of relief at Thork’s words.

“There are so many disputes to hear, it may be two days afore they get to you.”

“Is that good or bad for me?”

“It could go either way.” He shrugged. “Depends on
the mood of the jarls—or Sigtrygg. Need I warn you to behave yourself until then?

Ruby shook her head. Thork looked as if he wanted to say more, then thought better of it before he turned and walked away to join his friends.

First the assembly discussed King Athelstan’s proposal that King Sigtrygg marry his sister. Sigtrygg stood, an impressive sight in a jewel-studded purple tunic and a gold circlet around his forehead denoting his rank. “Good people, I would announce my betrothal to the Saxon sister of King Athelstan.”

A murmur of protest arose in the crowd.

“Nay, think not that I wish this joining, but I have been convinced ’twould be in the best interest of all Vikings in Northumbria.” Sigtrygg looked pointedly at Thork in the front row. He went on to discuss all the advantages that Thork had mentioned at the castle the first night Ruby had arrived in Jorvik.

The assembly decided that a representative of the king should attend Athelstan’s coronation ceremony on the fourth of September at Kingston, where a date would be set with Athelstan for a fall meeting between the two kings and a January wedding at Tamworth.

Then the Thing moved on to the routine business of settling legal disputes—everything from disagreements over property lines to murder. Ruby sat fascinated for hours, even after Aud went back to the tent to rest.

Each time a new case came up, the law speaker outlined the charges or the dispute to the panel on the platform, loud enough so that all could hear. Each side brought their supporters or witnesses with them. They faced each other, with the law speaker acting as arbiter, fielding questions from the king and jarls, as well as freemen in the assembly. Questions were decided on a final vote, not by a ballot or voice vote, but by
vapnatak
, the rattle of weapons.

Most of the fines were paid in a complicated system of
wergild
, a person’s worth measured in silver or wool or cows. If a slave had been murdered, the
wergild
to be paid would be less than for a hesir. For raiding a neighbor’s lands, a Viking could be outlawed, which meant exile from the territory and forfeiture of lands and belongings. Anyone could kill that man with impunity if he stayed.

“Do you enjoy our Thing?” Byrnhil asked, sliding down onto the grass next to Ruby.

“Byrnhil! How wonderful to see you again!”

The king’s mistress wore a spectacular red silk, full-length tunic, her attire more suited to a palace than an outdoor event. Gold bracelets and brooches studded with rubies and emeralds flashed in the sunlight, and she had a narrow gold circlet on her forehead, like a queen.

“This is fascinating,” Ruby said. “I can’t believe the Vikings have such an intricate justice system.”

“We Vikings have always had a great respect for laws. Why would you think otherwise?”

Ruby smiled, ignoring her question, and put her arm around Byrnhil’s shoulders. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her friend. “Have you been jogging lately?”

“Yea, I have, and now travel twice as far each morning as we did afore.”

“Four miles! Not bad!”

“’Tis strange. I get this wonderful feeling when I run, almost like the intoxication from fine wine. I cannot see why more people do not do this exercise.”

“Endorphins,” Ruby informed her on a giggle. “It’s called a jogger’s high.”

Byrnhil smiled at Ruby’s strange words and asked her to join her for the midday meal. Vigi, of course, followed them. As they walked, Ruby feasted her eyes on all the sights. Servants roasted whole pigs and deer over open fires. In one massive, wood-lined pit, thralls dropped chunks of meat, juniper berries, mustard seeds, garlic and
other herbs into water kept boiling with hot stones—a primitive form of slow cooking. Men roped off areas for the evening’s competitions—weightlifting, wrestling, stallion fighting, races and games of skill, like archery, spear throwing and swordplay.

Craftsmen and merchants set up tables in front of their tents to sell their wares. She and Byrnhil stopped repeatedly to look and touch—everything from carved ivory combs to silk scarves from the Orient to the much-valued amber beads.

“What do you think will happen to me at the Thing?” Ruby finally asked. She and Byrnhil sat on elaborately carved chairs inside a large tent set up for Sigtrygg near the edge of the clearing.

“I doubt the assembly would order your killing unless someone has come up with some evidence to prove you do spy.” She scrutinized Ruby’s face for hidden answers. “’Tis a most grievous offense, to be proven a spy. Then no one could save you.”

Later, when Ruby and Vigi returned to their tent area, they saw that the men had already returned from the Thing. Thork, Dar, Selik, the two boys and a dozen hesirs were gathering linens, soap and changes of clothing to take to the stream where they would bathe before the evening meal and entertainment.

Selik started to walk toward Ruby, but Thork grabbed him by the neck and pulled him along with the men.

“Odin’s spit, you will break my neck,” Selik grumbled.

“Better that than another part of your body.”

Selik looked back at Ruby over his shoulders and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Act your age,” Thork barked at him.

When they were gone, she and Aud exchanged glances.

“’Twould seem my grandson has a burr under his skin. He behaves like a jerk.”

Ruby laughed. “You like that word, don’t you?”

“Yea, almost as much as ‘male chauvinist pig.’ Dar mislikes my using the words, though. So I practice on the servants.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.

That evening, the family walked back to their tents from the king’s section of the campsite where they’d spent hours listening to music and the skald’s renditions of Viking sagas. Ruby held back to talk with Thork.

“What? Is Selik busy this eve?” Thork sneered.

“Don’t be an ass,” Ruby chastised, though secretly pleased with Thork’s jealousy. “Do you honestly believe I would want to be just another notch on Selik’s womanizing belt?”

Thork understood what she meant instantly and laughed, shaking his head from side to side. “You have a gift, wench, for pulling me from my bad humors. ’Tis your way with those silly words. What will you come out with next?”

“Well, I did think of something that might save me with the Thing?” She looked up at him hopefully.

“And what, pray tell, might that be? I hope it does not involve me in any way,” Thork said with a wary smile, knowing she had a knack for surprising him.

“Don’t be sarcastic. It just occurred to me that since there are Christian churches in Jorvik I could seek the protection of the church. I’ve read about that in historical novels.”

“You would go into a nunnery,” Thork hooted and began to laugh uproariously. Dar and Aud looked back to see what amused Thork, but he dismissed their interest with a wave of the hand. Still chuckling, he told Ruby, “I can just see you wearing the staid religious garb with that ‘teddy’ underneath. ’Twould be enough to make the saints turn over in their graves.”

Thork burst into another fit of laughter and called Dar back to share in his mirth. When they began howling at the picture of Ruby in a nun’s robe, she stomped away.

It wasn’t
that
funny.

Ruby and Aud looked at each other in disgust and both said at the same time, “Jerks!” Then they erupted with their own peals of laughter.

It ended up being four days before Ruby’s case was called. By then she shook with nervousness and broke out in tears at the least provocation, especially because of the brutal punishments she’d witnessed so far. Six thieves had had their right hands chopped off before the entire assembly. They’d stoned an adulteress. A thrall who had killed his master had been decapitated, a sight Ruby refused to watch. While Aud agreed the punishments were gruesome to witness, she couldn’t understand Ruby’s condemnation of the process since the victims had been given “fair” trials.

Finally it was her turn. Dressed in her best clothing, the burgundy tunic dress Dar had given her, with Byrnhil’s emerald pendant, Ruby stood to the side while the law speaker called out her “crime.”

“Ruby Jordan, you are accused of being a spy for Ivar. What say you?”

“I am not guilty.”

“Are those your supporters behind you?”

“Huh?” Ruby turned in surprise. Lined up behind her were Dar, Aud, Olaf, Gyda, Selik, Byrnhil, and…Ruby’s heart lurched…Thork. His solemn eyes held hers for a moment before he nodded slightly, and she turned back to her accusers. “Yes,” Ruby replied meekly, tears filling her eyes. She wasn’t sure what their support meant but she thanked God for it.

The law speaker read off the long list of complaints against Ruby: that she’d shown up in Jorvik mysteriously, had no logical explanation for her background, wore a shirt that appeared to be a message from Ivar, preached birth control to their women and, in essence, could be a spy for one of their enemies. When he held the T-shirt up for the assembly’s inspection, a rumble of outrage rolled
through the crowd at the words
Brass Balls
.

“What say you in your defense?”

“I come from America, a land beyond the Atlantic Ocean,” Ruby explained, trying to avoid mention of the future, not even sure if they called it the Atlantic Ocean then. “I’m lost but I’m certainly not a spy for anyone. Other than the shirt, which has no meaning whatsoever except for childish humor, I don’t think there’s any evidence to prove I’m a spy.”

“What say you to the charge that you want to kill off our young?”

“That’s ridiculous!” Ruby exclaimed, then clenched her fists to calm herself and the increasing stridency of her voice. “I don’t favor killing babies, either in or out of the womb. The only reason I mentioned birth control at all was the ladies in Jorvik were talking about a young woman who had ten children and who was in danger of dying in childbirth. I thought such a female could benefit from birth control information. I still do.”

“And the only reason she told the women in the palace about birth control was because I ordered her to,” Byrnhil inserted defiantly. “
Some
women would like to learn how to
prevent
conception.”

Sigtrygg barreled forward in anger at Byrnhil’s challenge, and hostile murmurings rippled through the crowd. “Remove thyself, woman,” Sigtrygg ordered sternly.

Brynhil could see she wasn’t helping Ruby, and she walked silently to the back of the tent.

Dar stepped up to the front and intervened, hoping to swing the crowd back to a more sympathetic mood. “The wench claims to be the granddaughter of Hrolf, The Marcher. Can we punish her on so little evidence without checking her claim first?”

Olaf, Aud and Gyda spoke then, telling of their associations with Ruby and convictions that she was just misguided in her words and actions, no real danger.

“I trust her with my daughters and would not do so if she were a spy,” Gyda declared with fierce loyalty.

God bless her Viking soul, Ruby prayed.

Finally, Thork cleared his voice to speak. When he stepped to the center of the tent, the silence of the crowd bespoke the respect he garnered. His proud stance was that of an authority figure used to having his opinions valued.

“The wench has been
my
responsibility, thanks to your orders, Sigtrygg,” Thork explained in a clear, articulate voice directed at the king, “and a bedeviling one, at that.” He grinned ruefully at Ruby in memory of just how outrageous some of her actions had been, then went on, “Whilst her background is still a mystery to me, I believe she merely suffers an ague of the mind.”