Page 70 of The Blue Viking

Women are by far the superior species, she decided. Do we spend excessive time worrying over the size of our female parts?

Of course not… well, except for our backsides, which sometimes tend to grow overnight, or worse yet, sag.

“Dost care for a demonstration of how these garments would look over the naked form?” Vagn asked and lifted the hem of his scandalous robe, reaching for his belt.

“No!” Maire practically shouted, even though she could see that some of the women wouldn’t have minded such a display.

Vagn dropped the robe with an exhale of disappointment.

“Nude ghosts!” Nessa whooped. She was still gape-mouthed at the astounding mind-picture. “Where will you keep your sword?”

Almost immediately, Nessa realized her mistake. Her blush deepened even before Toste and Vagn glanced downward and answered as one, “Which sword?”

“Are you jesting? I cannot imagine Rurik approving of such a plan,” Maire said.

“ ’Twas his idea,” Toste informed her with a rascally wink. “Now that Rurik has got his knack back, he no doubt likes the idea of naked flesh. He has got his knack back, hasn’t he?”

“Tell the truth now, m’lady, did he or did he not or-gaz you?” Vagn added.

Maire just groaned. At the same time, all her ladies were asking, “Or-gaz? Or-gaz?”

“What idea?” Rurik inquired behind her. “What idea came from me?”

Maire pivoted on her bench and saw him and all the other men and boys coming into the great hall. Not only had they finished their exercises, but apparently they had visited the loch for a quick bath, or swim, if their wet hair was any indication.

As Rurik swaggered toward her, she noticed the most heart-wrenching thing. Jamie was following in his wake like a faithful puppy, and his youthful swagger mimicked Rurik’s. Her son had long demonstrated a talent for aping the characteristics of others, and apparently Rurik had become his idol of the moment. She also noticed that Jamie carried a crudely made, miniature wooden sword in his belt, just like Rurik. Stigand, who had a talent for whittling, must have made it for him, but the way Jamie wore it, low on his left hip, was identical to Rurik’s practice. If all that wasn’t bad enough, Jamie still wore the thin braids on either side of his face.

An odd silence followed as others noticed the same things she did. They waited for her to say something, or for Rurik to finally understand what they all saw so clearly.

“What idea?” Rurik repeated, calling Maire’s thoughts back to the present. He slid onto the bench next to her, way too close, and grinned at her apparent discomfort at his intimacy in front of so many people.

“That Toste and Vagn would dress as naked ghosts,” she answered and slid away slightly from the heated pressure of Rurik’s hip against hers.

He just sidled his buttocks along the seat so that now he was even closer. Then he waggled his eyebrows at her, daring her to proceed in this game of evasion. When she remained in place, he told her, “How else would ghosts be, but naked? Besides, Toste and Vagn work best in that state of nonattire, or so I have been told. And they may very well have to enter the castle via a wench’s pallet.”

Maire laughed softly at the prospect. “A wench inviting a naked ghost into her bed? Dost really think any female in her right mind would be so foolhardy?”

Silence prevailed while a kitchen maid set pitchers of cool ale and wooden goblets in front of them.

“Anything is possible with these two,” Rurik declared after taking a long draught of the beverage. “Believe you me, nothing that happens to them comes as a surprise to me anymore. I recall a time in Cordoba when the two of them had to be rescued from a brothel where they were being held captive by the smitten harlots.” In the meantime, while he had been talking, he had somehow turned slightly so that a part of his body she’d become particularly familiar with … and, aye, fond of, too … began to prod her hip.

Shocked, Maire scolded Rurik, “You lecherous lout, you! Best you keep Lance under control in public places lest some bird fly by and mistake it for a perch.”

“Maaaiirre!” Rurik responded with equal shock, though a smile twitched at the edges of his lips. “Shhhh,” he quickly added, not wanting others to overhear.

But it was too late.

“Lance? What lance?” Toste wanted to know.

“That is Rurik’s name for his manpart,” Maire blurted out before she had a chance to curb her tongue.

Toste and Vagn burst out laughing, and all the women perked up with interest at this new, beguiling subject.

“Lots of men name their manparts,” Maire said defensively, repeating Rurik’s lackwit words to her. She could feel her cheeks flame with embarrassment at her runaway blathering.

Rurik groaned and rolled his eyes with disgust, apparently knowing what was to come.

“ ’Tis true. ’Tis true,” Toste agreed. “I call mine Bliss … as in ‘Here comes Bliss.’ ”