Page 57 of The Caged Viking

Instead of taking his hand, she wobbled on her feet, swayed, then fell forward into his arms. Just before she fell into a drugged sleep, she looked up at him. “You didn’t!” she accused him.

“I did,” he admitted, “and may the gods help me.”

He heard that annoying “ahem” noise in his head again, and he self-corrected, “May God help me.”

“Thou art on thy own, Viking.”

Chapter 13

Not the trip she’d expected…

Kirstin was nauseated, and her eyes seemed to be glued shut. It felt like an axe was imbedded in her skull. Like the worst hangover. Not that she’d ever experienced many of those, not being much of a drinker, but red wine tended to affect her in that way, or at least with a bad headache, or some vomiting.

No wonder! Now that she thought on it, she had drunk that cup of the grape in a farewell toast, hadn’t she? She should have expected this.

Back and forth, back and forth, the contents of her stomach sloshed. She licked her lips, expecting the fuzzy-tongued yucky taste of stale booze, but instead she tasted…salt?

She kept her eyes closed, at first, trying to make sense of what had happened.

I was about to go to the hall to make my trip back to the future.

Am I in the future?

If so, it’s final. I’ve left Hauk…my husband…behind. Her heart squeezed at that prospect. It’s over. All chances of a happily ever after with him, gone!

Not that he ever promised that.

Or that I expected it.

But still…

Or was it all a dream?

If so, I need to see a therapist. These dreams are getting out of hand.

Is there such a thing as a dream therapist? Bet there is. Gotta go Google that.

She tried to get up, but realized she wasn’t lying down. She was standing up, but…she tried to wipe the sleep gunk from her eyes…and discovered that she couldn’t move her arms from her sides. Alarmed, she squeezed her eyes several times, creating moisture, and was able to open her eyelids a bit.

That’s when she let out a scream. A loud scream. A loud unending scream.

Hauk came over to stand before her where she was tied to the mast pole of a ship.

A moving ship.

On the open frickin’ sea.

That explained the salty crust on her lips and eyes.

Panic overcame her as she realized where she was, soon supplanted by anger. She sputtered with disbelief, “You…you…”

He hunkered down a bit so that he was eye level with her. “Shhh, dearling! You’ll scare the sea birds.”

He jokes? At a time like this? She screamed louder.

“Now, Kirstin, hold your screeching. Let me explain.”

“Explain? Explain? You kidnapped me. How do you explain that?”