Page 17 of The Caged Viking

“And your gown is perfect for a wedding,” Emma decided, smiling at Kirstin as if she should be happy at this turn of events.

“Um, do you mind if I go give my groom the good news?” she asked, playing for time.

“Is that wise?” the king asked. “Best you take a guardsman with you. If you get too close, he might bite off a body part, like he did a finger on that foolish lad who kept prodding him with a stick.”

“I promise I won’t prod him with a stick,” she said, but thought, Eeew! “Besides, I would have to get close to him sometime if we’re going to be husband and wife, right?” She batted her eyelashes suggestively. “No, it’s best if I approach him alone at first.” And try to figure a way to get out of this mess.

“Go at your own peril,” the king said, then yelled at her two guards, who still held onto her upper arms. “Go find that bloody priest.”

The morons just blinked at their monarch in a “Who? Me?” fashion.

“Now!” Aethelred screamed, spittle flying.

The two men released her, each going off in a different direction.

Emma was already ordering servants to clear a space in front of the dais for the wedding ceremony. “Britta, find some flowers. And you men, pull a table over here to set up an altar. Eadyth, go to the chapel and get an altar cloth. Whilst there, grab a chalice and communion wine. Rings must be exchanged; I can probably find those. Oh, so much to do!”

“Forget the communion wine. Bring more ale,” yelled the king, whose crown was sitting lopsided on his head, whether from inebriation or all that yelling. Then, he plopped back down into his chair and glared at Kirstin.

She took that glare as her cue to exit the royal presence.

Making her way in the general direction of the cage, Kirstin plotted what she should do, concluding that getting Hauk out of the cage was a first priority, no matter how that was pulled off. Even if it was for a fake wedding. Once free of his jail, she and Hauk could figure out, together, how to escape the castle.

And then Kirstin could go home. Mission accomplished.

Easy peasy.

On the other hand, maybe she didn’t need to consult Hauk about a solution. She would take the man back to the future with her. Deposit him at Blue Dragon where her father and the other Viking-Americans could help him assimilate. That was the solution, of course. She just needed to get him somewhere alone to start the process with her arm rings, which were the means of her time travel. She assumed. Or hoped.

She was close enough to the cage now to see Hauk-the-Not-So-Handsome leaning against the bars at the back of the cage, arms folded over his chest, frowning at her.

Maybe not so easy peasy.

“Spare me, gods, ’tis the dog lady again,” he grumbled.

“I beg your pardon. Did you call me a dog? You, who look like a hairy Big Foot creature, are saying I look like a dog? Maybe I won’t rescue you, after all.”

He rolled his eyes. “I meant the dog symbol you wore on your shert last time you bothered me.”

“Bothered? Bothered? I’d like to tell you about bother,” she sputtered. Then, taking deep breaths to calm herself, she explained, “That was Snoopy, who isn’t a real dog. Just a comic…oh, never mind. We don’t have much time, and I have to explain what’s happening.”

He ignored what she’d said and homed in on an earlier remark. “As for rescue, please spare me your halfbrained scheme. I have my own halfbrained scheme with my own halfbrained rescuer, thank you very much.” He looked pointedly at the short man approaching who carried a sling full of kindling over his shoulder, which was odd in itself, it being so warm this evening and no fires having been lit in any of the hearths.

“M’lord, ye will not believe what I just heard,” the kindling holder said, coming right up to the cage. Apparently this guy wasn’t concerned about losing a body part. “The king and queen are planning a wedding. For this very evening. The bishop has been called, and a space is being cleared in front of the high table.”

“Egil! Why should I care if someone is being married? Unless…” He narrowed his eyes and stepped toward the front of the cage.

Kirstin could swear she saw fleas bouncing off him as he got closer.

“Unless,” Hauk continued, “it would somehow interfere with our plans for escape.”

“Well…um…uh.” The little man hmmmed and hawed, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Exactly who is being wed?” Hauk asked.

“You.” Egil ducked his head as if fearing Hauk would reach through the bars and clout him a good one.

“Me? Nice to know. And who is the happy bride-to-be?”