Page 19 of The Caged Viking

“Isn’t that a bit far for a rescue mission? I assume you have a longship nearby with at least thirty, preferably fifty, seamen aboard. And weapons aplenty because, sure as sin, Aethelred and his army will follow after me. I commend your foresight in preparing so for my rescue.”

“No need to be sarcastic. A wise man accepts help graciously, no matter its source. Even in a dream.”

“Graciousness is overrated, in my opinion.” He mumbled something then, under his breath, something about damn dreams, damn gods, and damn women who gave themselves angel airs. She could tell that he, like most Viking males, didn’t like the idea of being saved by a woman, or the idea that she was sent by God, or any of the gods, for that matter.

But then, he said, “’Twould seem you are gaining yourself a husband, m’lady warrioress. May the gods help you.”

“Amen,” she said, and she meant that as a prayer. “And, by the way, I’m no lady, either.”

He just grinned. “Lucky me!”

Chapter 6

Now, that’s what I call a honeymoon…

And so it was that Hauk prepared to be wed for the second time in his sorry life. He could only hope it did not end as badly as the first, for truthfully they were both forced marriages.

The woman…Kirstin…was not to his tastes, personally, being tall and blonde, like many Norsewomen. Not that there was anything wrong with pale versions of the female sex, but a man got tired of the same diet in the bed furs day after day. On the other hand, how could he complain? He was light-haired himself. Still, he much preferred dark-haired females with a smaller, more curvaceous frame. And Kirstin was no longer a young woman, either, being closer to his own age of thirty and five, he would warrant.

But female attributes were the least of his concerns. And who was he to be particular in his present position?

He had to give Kirstin credit, though. She had a skillful tongue when it came to dealing with the bothersome Saxons who thought to manage this charade of a nuptial affair. If only said tongue would rest on occasion! Instead, it was blather, blather, blather. And she had no qualms about addressing the king or queen in familiar terms, even the occasional, oddly-worded “You who!” when the royal pair failed to respond quickly enough to her comments.

The first obstacle arose when the king had demanded that, before opening the cage, Hauk be fully restrained with ropes holding his hands behind his back and ropes tied to both ankles so that he could scarce walk. Not to mention a leather collar and a chain held by a brute the size of a small mountain.

“What? You can’t be serious,” Kirstin had exclaimed. “How will he bathe before the ceremony?”

“What need is there for a bath?” the king had inquired.

“Cleanliness?” she’d replied sweetly.

“Aethelred!” his wife had berated the king. “You cannot expect a highborn lady to consummate her marriage with a man who reeks.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” the king had muttered. Then he’d turned to several of the housecarls who were standing about drinking and enjoying the spectacle. “Take him outside and clean him up. A couple buckets of water and some soap should do the job. And get rid of that fur thing. It looks like a squirrel tupping his cock.”

“Aethelred!” Emma had chided her husband again.

“What?”

“Must you be so crude?”

“More wine,” the king had ordered.

“It’s fox, not squirrel,” Hauk had contributed. Not that anyone seemed to care.

The bath itself would have been laughable if Hauk were in the mood for laughter. The guards had not so much poured buckets of water over him but threw them, not wanting to get too close. Even with his arm and ankle restraints, Hauk had been fairly confident he could break free from these dolts and make a run for the trees, especially since the chain just dangled from his neck whilst the giant went off to the garderobe to settle a case of roiling bowels.

Hauk had considered the option of a rush to freedom, but only for a moment. He couldn’t abandon Egil in the castle, and, truth to tell, the dog lady, either. If Aethelred suspected her help with his escape, the lady might very well end up in the cage herself. Furthermore, with his luck of late, Hauk would probably be stuck with Egil’s girling, who was presumably tending the horses for their escape.

When he’d been led back to the great hall, Kirstin looked at him with disgust and remarked, “You look worse than you did before. Instead of being just dirty and greasy, now your hair is hanging in wet clumps, and I doubt you’ll ever get the tangles out of your beard. Eew, don’t get so close. Your lice might hop over onto me.”

“Does your tongue ever stop flapping?”

“Nice talk for a bridegroom!”

“And by the by, you never did answer my question afore. According to your plan, how far do we have to go to ensure our escape?”

“Um.”