Page 4 of Truly, Madly Viking

Thora was using her huge tail fins to whack the far side of the longship.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

She must be playing with them—some kind of strange killer whale game—for it was clear she was not employing full force; otherwise the vessel would have tipped over. Even so, the impact of the powerful tail hitting the wood sides was enough to set the boat rocking side to side. A little harder and the wood might splinter.

Jorund tried to listen in the way the whale had taught him. There was a loud, grinding noise in response, almost like a rusty door closing, and he thought he heard her say, It is time, Viking.

"Time? What time?" Jorund asked.

"Huh?" Magnus tilted his head in question. Jorund realized that he must have spoken aloud and felt his face heat with embarrassment. Magnus would make great mock of him if he even suspected his brother was communicating with an animal.

The whale swam off a short distance and floated atop the water, just watching him with her big, beady eyes. And the groaning noise continued.

"Jorund? Are you all right?" Magnus repeated with concern. "

He nodded.

"Something odd is happening here," Magnus contended. "You have not been yourself since learning of Inga's and the girls' deaths."

"I do not want to speak of that," he said icily. "Best we pull anchor and get rid of this bothersome whale.

If we cannot move quickly enough to lose her, then we must kill the beast."

He thought he heard a squealy voice in the distance say, Ha! I would like to see you try.

Closer at hand, Magnus was not about to drop the subject. "Some people think a man must talk of his heart-pain, lest it eat away at his innards... turn him mad with grief."

"Are you implying that I have gone berserk?"

Magnus pursed his lips and tugged at one of his big ears pensively. "Mayhap. Leastways, a little barmy."

Jorund grunted with disgust.

"Oh, I know you harbored no great affection for Inga, but your daughters... well, 'tis clear they held a special place in your soul."

"Have a caution, Magnus. You go too far," he warned.

But as always, his brother failed to heed sound advice and blathered on. "I know that I would surely tear out my hair in mourning if I lost my son... or daughter."

"And which son—or daughter—would that be?" Jorund asked with a hint of humor.

It was hard to stay angry with his well-meaning brother.

"Any one of my sons... or daughters," Magnus answered, lifting his chin defensively. His brother followed the old custom of more danico and had two wives, in addition to three current mistresses... or was it four? All told, his seed had produced eight sons and five daughters... all with big ears.

Jorund made a tsking sound at his brother, whom he loved dearly, despite his nagging ways.

"I will work out my own problems in my own time and way," he told Magnus. "For now we must make haste and try to outrun this killer whale."

They had anchored offshore in a small cove the night before so that they could draw fresh water from a stream on a nearby island. There were no human inhabitants that they could see. Still, they had slept aboard ship as a precaution.

Turning away, he gave orders to his crew to pull up the anchor and man their sea chests. His long ship, built by his brother Rolf, was not an over large vessel.

There were thirty-two oar holes on each side, manned by as many men who sat on their own personal sea chests rather than benches. Next to them were another thirty-two seamen, who would relieve them when their arms grew weary.

"It won't come up," a seaman soon informed him. "The anchor must have caught in some seaweed when the whale bumped us."

In the meantime, the whale was back to prodding the ship with its tail fins and snout. Enough of this nonsense!