Page 10 of Viking Unchained

“Actually, a day and a half. Drugs.”

“Huh? Explain yourself.”

“We gave you some happy pills to make you sleep. Even with the handcuffs, you were no bundle of joy, believe you me. We had to get you immobile so that the authorities wouldn’t ask too many questions.

They think you’re shell-shocked. So make sure you act dazed.”

“That will not be difficult. I am dazed.”

“See? I’m just looking out for you, cousin.”

“Are you saying that you chained my hands together, then fed me some potion to make me lose consciousness?”

“So to speak.”

“I am going to kill you,” he said, struggling to escape his belt.

“Be still. I’ll explain everything later. And, by the way, your name is Jake Lavin, if anyone asks.”

“Jake? You named me for a privy?”

“Jake is short for Jacob. Good ol’ Jake bought the farm in Afghanistan, but he has no family to claim his body, and we sort of commandeered his name. Just for the short-term. ’Til our boots hit the ground in Coronado.”

“Bought the farm? Boots hitting the ground? What tongue do you speak, Torolf?”

“English. And, really, you should call me Max like everyone else does.”

“’Tis like no Saxon English I e’er heard, Max.”

“This is Uncle Sam’s English.”

“We have no Uncle Sam.” He shook his head with bewilderment. “Where are we going?”

“California.”

“Cowl . . . what?”

“America.”

“How far is that from the Norselands?”

“As the bird flies, more than ten thousand miles, give or take.” At his continuing look of confusion, Torolf explained, “Under good weather conditions, resting on land at night, at one hundred nautical miles per hour in a longship, I’d guess two to three months.”

“I am going to kill you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Torolf stood.

“Where are you going?”

“To the head.”

“Me, too,” he said quickly. There was no way he was going to let his cousin out of his sight. “Whose head?”

“Privy.” Torolf continued to grin at him like an idiot. “And you are not going to the privy with me like a sissy girl. I’ll be right back.”

Only belatedly did he realize that Torolf had insulted him.

So it was that Thorfinn was sitting, locked in his chair, when a voice came out of the ceiling. The bird, no doubt. “Fasten your seat belts, folks. We have a little turbulence up ahead.”