Page 62 of The Bewitched Viking

Alinor gave him a sharp jab with her elbow, which did not even budge the immovable lout. “What makes you think I would participate in the bedsport with him, or any other man?”

“What? Did you think Adam was interested in conversing with you? About sheep? Or the black arts?” He pondered a moment. “Or freckle cures?”

Freckle cures? Ooooh, that was a low blow. There are black arts I would like to employ with this wretch.

“I like to talk with women,” Adam countered defensively. “Sometimes.”

Tykir and Bolthor exhaled with a communal, “Hah!”

“And disasters follow her everywhere,” Tykir divulged. “Whether it be her witchly arts or just coincidence, I cannot say for certain, but it gets tiresome after a while, I can attest.” Bolthor nodded in agreement.

“Disasters? Like what?” Adam scoffed.

“Manparts curving, seagulls dying, twins a-birthing, wine souring, bowels fluxing, storms brewing, even geese shitting on hapless travelers—”

“What hapless travelers?” Adam asked, clearly confused by Tykir’s recitation of her supposed ill-doings.

Tykir and Bolthor looked at each other, turned red-faced, and refused to respond.

Adam hooted with laughter. “God’s blood! ’Twould seem I have much to catch up on. Mayhap I will go to Dragonstead with you, after all, Tykir. Have you committed all these happenstances to sagas, Bolthor?”

Bolthor beamed at Adam. “Yea, I have. Most of them, leastways. I intend to recite all winter long at Dragonstead.”

“I cannot wait.” Adam beamed innocently as he spoke.

Everyone else groaned under their breaths.

“Now let me see, Tykir.” A mischievous grin crept over Adam’s lips. “You have told me the wench—I mean, witch—is not for me because she is too old, too talksome and too magical. Is there aught else I should fear afore taking her off your hands?”

“Who said I wanted you to take Lady Alinor off my hands?” Tykir snapped.

“You did,” Alinor declared, baffled by his change of mood.

“I did not. I said that Anlaf must take responsibility for you now. I never said Adam should take on that irksome duty.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he answered enigmatically. “Being a woman, ’twould be hard for you to fathom the deeper workings of a man’s mind.”

“Did it take you a long time to think up that nonsense?”

He cast her a sheepish sideways glance. “Nay. It just came to me. An inspiration.”

She rolled her eyes heavenward.

“Well, if you do not want her…” Adam began, studying the two of them with lips twitching with mirth. The thick-headed Tykir obviously failed to see the teasing that underlay Adam’s words. “I guess I could be her protector…for a while.”

“Please, Adam! Spare us your whims. You would be her protector only till the next winsome maid strolls by…not that Lady Alinor is winsome. I mean…I did not mean…” Tykir slanted an apologetic look at Alinor, as if she did not already know how little appeal she held for him. Tykir let out a whoosh of exasperation. “Face the truth, Adam. You would not like the freckles that cover her from head to toe,” Tykir blurted out, and seemed surprised at his own words.

She gasped. The dolt!

But wasn’t it odd how Tykir was trying to deflect Adam’s interest away from her? Here was a perfect opportunity for him to be rid of her, and what did he do? Sabotage his own plan to relinquish responsibility for her.

She reached over for his hand and had to pry the fingers apart before lacing it with hers. And, oh, how good it felt to press her flesh against his! He was her anchor in this sea of danger. He would save her. She knew he would. “Do not mind the lout,” she told Adam. “He is my own personal guardian angel, but he fights his fates mightily.”

“Tykir…an angel?” Adam shook his head with disbelief. But then he homed in on Tykir’s words. “How do you know she is covered with freckles from head to toe?” Adam asked, chuckling.

“Because he saw her naked, back in Jorvik,” Rurik explained. He’d just returned from the privy, apparently satisfied with the shape of his beloved staff if his swagger was any indication. He dropped down into his seat next to Adam. “And he has not been the same since. Smitten he is with whatever it was he saw.”