Page 80 of The Caged Viking

Dost think it wise to alienate the One being who can help you?

You would help me…a heathen?

Oh, I forgot thou art a pagan.

I could convert, he added quickly.

He thought he heard a smile in the voice when it replied, Of course thou could. The One-God had to know that many Vikings allowed themselves to be baptized to gain lands or treaties, while at the same time maintaining their old ways.

Hauk hated these wavering emotions that were assailing him. He’d always been confident of his abilities, both as a warrior and a lover, but he was oddly insecure now, when it came to Kirstin. Mayhap it was because the outcome mattered so much to him.

She woke then, and they talked of inconsequential things, skirting around what was surely on both their minds. The future. Their future.

“I must leave at first light.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Three or four days…a sennight at the most.”

“Depending on…?”

He shrugged. “How much game we can get close to home?”

“How far have you had to go in the past?”

“Well, I haven’t hunted here for many years, but in the old days, when game was most plentiful, two days of walking. Beyond that the cold and terrain become too difficult.”

“Is there danger?”

“There’s danger in everything.”

“How about Bjorn? Will you take him with you?”

He shook his head. “He is improved, but I fear that so much walking could reverse all his progress. I’ve asked him to supervise the fishing.”

“And he was okay with that?”

“Pfff! Not at all! But I told him that men were needed here to provide protection. Also, I promised him that he could go a-Viking with me next spring if he is able to obey orders.”

She nodded and remained silent, though she probably had thoughts on what a by then thirteen-year-old boy should be doing with his time. But that was neither here nor there. He wanted to ask her if she would be here when he returned, but instead he said, “How will you keep busy whilst I’m gone?”

“Hah! There’s plenty to do. We’ll probably make soap tomorrow if the weather is all right.”

“Flavored soap?” he inquired with a grin.

She pinched his belly for his teasing. Which, of course, caused a body part somewhat lower to rise with attention. “Tsk! Scented, not flavored,” she said. “And, actually, yes, I might try some scents. I’m thinking you might be a perfect candidate for something like, oh, I don’t know. Maybe turnip.”

“Turnip? Turnip?” he exclaimed, then realized that she must have discovered his aversion to that particular vegetable. “Do not dare!”

She giggled and told him, “Just kidding.”

“How about mead? That would be a smell men might not mind.”

“There you go! But they might be walking around half-blitzed all the time, or have a constant craving for alcohol,” she said with a laugh. “Seriously, though. I might try honey, or mint if I can find any wild plants that haven’t yet died off, or evergreen. It will be fun experimenting.”

He wasn’t sure about that. “Your idea of fun and mine are vastly different.” He paused, then added, “Though there are some things we both appear to enjoy.”

He proceeded then to show her one of them.