Page 87 of The Outlaw Viking

Ella rolled her eyes in her head. “Nay, keepin’ Selik here would ne’er pass. I have too many workers comin’ ’n goin’, always stickin’ their noses in me affairs.”

Rain’s shoulders slumped with disappointment.

“How ’bout Selik’s homestead outside the city? Much of it was fire-burned by Gravely and his fiendish band, but the foundation and frame fer the barn are still there, as I recollect. ’Twould take only a few hours of labor to put on a new thatch roof.”

Rain’s spirits suddenly brightened with hope.

“Sum benches and pallets and all the necessaries could be purchased in the city. Mayhap it could work. But people livin’ on Selik’s land of a sudden when it wuz abandoned fer nigh ten years would draw attention, fer certain. Can ye think of any reason fer yer livin’ there?”

A clear, unrelated image flashed into Rain’s mind of the two children she’d encountered that day, Adam and Adela, and the vast number of homeless children on the streets.

“An orphanage,” Rain answered without hesitation. “I’m going to open an orphanage.” Rain grabbed Ella then and hugged her warmly. “Oh, Ella, thank you, thank you. I swear I will repay you for your help some day.”

Ella lowered her eyes in an uncharacteristically shy manner and offered hesitantly, “Well, mayhap there is somethin’ ye could do fer me.”

“Anything. Just name it.”

“Could ye perchance put in a good word fer me with Ubbi?”

Rain’s mouth dropped open in utter amazement. Then she started to laugh so hard she couldn’t stop, finally choking and having to drink a cup of water that a disgusted Ella brought to her.

“’Tis not that humorous.”

“Oh, Ella,” Rain finally gasped out, “it’s not you I’m laughing at. It’s this whole bizarre comic turn my life has taken. If you had told me a few weeks ago that I would ever play cupid to anyone, let alone to two mismatched Dark Age characters, I would have said, ‘No way!’.”

“Mismatched!” Ella said, honing in on that one word. “Hah! No more mismatched than you and Selik.”

“You’re right about that, Ella. You’re right about that.”

Rain tried unsuccessfully to show an interest in the prosperous mercer’s shop Ella proudly displayed for her—the best baudekin silks from Bagdad, Greek Samite, linens of the finest quality known as sindon, similar to a delicate lawn, and of course the famous Yorkshire wool. Even the exquisite embroidery and trims of marten or fox failed to hold Rain’s distracted attention.

Finally, Ella gave up trying to entertain or impress her and led Rain up the stairs to her small bedchamber, which she would share with Rain.

Unable to sleep, Rain agonized over the fate of Selik and Gyda’s family until Ubbi came for her the following afternoon, assuring her that no one was seriously injured. Even so, her worry increased when she entered Gyda’s home and saw the wanton destruction caused by the Saxon soldiers in their pursuit of Selik.

Trestle tables had been overturned and gouged with axes. Barrels and pottery containers of food products—flour, milk, honey, eggs, mead—were strewn everywhere. Tapestries and woven drapes, which had lined the walls to keep out the autumn winds, lay in shredded strips.

Everywhere Rain looked, she saw the inhabitants working diligently to clean up the mess under the stern orders of Gyda and Tyra. Already a large bonfire of damaged goods flamed brightly in the back yard and grew in intensity as more and more of the spoils were added.

“Gyda, I’m so sorry. This is horrible.”

Gyda looked up from where she was sweeping up a pile of sticky flour. “We have survived such destruction many a time, and ofttimes worse than this. At least, no one was killed, thank the Lord.”

Rain noticed the man with the broken nose that Ubbi had mentioned—Tostir—and went over to examine his injury. There was really nothing she could do for him, other than advise him to hold cold compresses over it to reduce the swelling.

Returning to Gyda’s side, she picked up another broom and began to work alongside her. “Where’s Selik? I’ve been so worried about him.”

“Gone into hiding, I hope.”

“Oh, no! He hasn’t gone after Steven of Gravely already, has he?”

“Nay, not yet, but ’twill be soon, I wager. As soon as he is assured of our safety here.”

Rain put a hand on Gyda’s sleeve. “I’ve decided you’re right, Gyda. We have to do something to stop Selik from killing himself. And that’s what he would be doing if he ventured into Saxon lands at this time.”

Gyda stopped working and listened intently to Rain’s words. “So, a firsthand view of Saxon brutality has convinced you of the danger he faces?”

“Yes, but more than that. Selik goes into a blind rage at the mere mention of Steven of Gravely. Under the best of circumstances, he faces eventual death in his vendetta against the Saxons. But Gravely—any man who could do what he did to your daughter and grandchild—well, I can’t begin to think what devious tactics he might use to lure Selik into the open, or what horrendous things he might do to him if he captures him.”