Page 25 of The Bewitched Viking

“That makes me feel better,” Tykir said with dry humor.

“Once, twice, thrice…it matters not. King Edred will surely send an army to rescue one of his kin,” Eadyth insisted on a wail of dismay. “What have you gotten us into, Tykir?”

Alinor would have liked to rub the salt of their disapproval into Tykir’s wounds, but she had to be honest. “I have no illusions about Edred’s motive in helping me…if in fact that is what’s happening. Edred isn’t much older than me, you know, and I have five and twenty years. But the king is so weak of digestion at times that he can swallow only the juices of food he has masticated, to the great revulsion of his guests. ’Tis a disease that afflicts many in the House of Wessex.”

“Well, thank you for the fine saga,” Tykir said sarcastically. “Is there a point? Or an ending?”

Alinor shot the troll a sideways scowl and continued. “While I might sympathize with Edred’s maladies, I am not so naive as to believe my cousin exercises familial concern. There are two sides to Edred, as most Englishmen know. He is a devoutly religious man who suffers his bodily pain with stoic acceptance. His palace in many ways is a school of virtue. On the other hand, he can be brutal as…well, as a barbaric Viking.”

Alinor got a number of glowers for that remark, including from Eadyth. Though a Saxon herself, she clearly defended her half-Norse husband and his countrymen.

“Recently, Edred destroyed the entire town of Thetford just to avenge the death of the local abbot. Every man, woman and child,” Alinor said, in explaining the king’s brutal side.

The question was: Which side was Edred acting from today?

Edred’s emissary could help her, if he wanted. Of that there was no doubt. But was she important enough? What were Egbert and Hebert, or even Cedric, offering in return?

Alinor’s heart lurched with sudden hopefulness, but then an odd depression settled over her. She was betwixt and between in this situation. Two choices, and both of them bad. Be rescued by her brothers and end up with—what was it Tykir had called him—yea, she remembered now…the lord of Lard. Or be carried off to some heathen land to face a Viking king who expected her to remove a nonexistent spell.

Tykir squeezed her hand. “Never fear, Lady Alinor. The king won’t interfere in my business. He plays with your brothers and the Saxon king’s emissary. He will bleed as much coin in ransom from them as he can, but in the end you are mine.”

You are mine.

What a disconcerting thing to say! A shiver ran through her body from head to toe. If he meant to reassure her, he was sadly misguided. Especially since one of Eric Bloodaxe’s house carls came up and notified them that the king wished to speak with Tykir Thorksson and his captive, the Lady Alinor. Soon Tykir, Alinor, Eirik, Eadyth, Rurik and Bolthor were walking toward the dais in a group.

“Like a swarm of bees, we are,” Eadyth said under her breath.

“You should know, dearling. You should know,” Eirik told his wife, with a pat on her rump.

Her squeal of consternation was drowned by the din of hundreds of revelers enjoying the feast.

Alinor had been in this very hall years ago with her second husband, and it actually looked much better now. The Vikings were great ones for decorating their door and window surrounds, not to mention the roof beams, with intricate carvings. And the Vikings themselves were certainly an attractive lot, with their colorful clothing, magnificent jewelry and meticulously groomed hair and beards. These were a people taller than the average Saxon, and cleaner, too. No wonder so many Saxon men and women fell in love with their Norse counterparts.

All these observations Alinor made as they moved along the aisle separating the long trestle tables. Their passage was barely noticed, except for a few guests who huddled their heads together, whispering and pointing at Alinor’s nether end.

Except for Egbert, Hebert and Cedric.

“Alinor!” Egbert cried out and hugged her warmly, which was an odd experience since she was bound to the grim-faced Tykir, who was forced to move with her. He didn’t appear pleased to be in such close proximity to the man who’d tried to shoot him with an arrow earlier that afternoon. It was also an odd experience because Egbert had never hugged her a day in her life. He’d applied a birch rod on more than one occasion, but a hug? Never.

“You’re safe!” Hebert added, taking his turn in hugging her. “We were so worried about you, dear sister.”

Worried? Hah! Their only worry was that they might lose their bride money.

Egbert wore a huge bandage wrapped around his crown, presumably from an injury sustained that afternoon, and Hebert had a split lip. They’d probably wounded themselves rushing away from the fray.

Cedric waddled forward and seemed about to take her brothers’ place in the embracing business, but Tykir soon put a stop to that with a halting hand. For one insane moment, she wondered if Tykir might be jealous. But then she took another glance at his furious face and decided otherwise.

“Tykir, Eirik,” King Eric Bloodaxe greeted them. “We give you welcome. Have you had enough to eat and drink?”

Both men nodded to the king, who was dressed sumptuously in purple wool, from braies to belted tunic to over-mantle lined with white fur. He must have seen more than fifty years, if the gray streaks in the dark hair that lay about his shoulders under a thin gold crown were any indication. He was clean-shaven, otherwise, and still handsome, in a cold-eyed way.

“Gunnhild, come forth and greet our guests,” the king invited his queen.

Alinor gasped with appreciation at her first close-up view of the queen. An uncommonly beautiful woman, Gunnhild had to be of the same age as her king, but her skin was unlined, her thick blond hair untouched by gray. She wore an embroidered gown of the same purple fabric as the king’s and a veritable fortune in jewelry, including gold and silver rings on every finger, wide rings that extended from knuckle to knuckle.

Her intelligent eyes took in Tykir’s amber pendant and Eirik’s dragon brooch in a greedy glance. “Have you brought me any fine amber trinkets this time, Tykir?” the queen asked.

“I have many a jewel for purchase,” Tykir said.