Page 43 of The Caged Viking

“We’re going a-Viking, sweetling,” he told her as he arranged her on her back with her arms and legs where he wanted them.

“But we have no longship,” she said, getting into the game.

“Hah!” he replied, glancing downward. “I see something long, and believe you me, this ship is looking for a harbor. But first, this Viking needs to do a bit of exploring afore he heads home.”

“Goody!”

They both went all Marco Polo then, leisurely exploring each other’s bodies, commenting here and then on what they saw and what they liked, laughing sometimes, gasping at others, ending with a slow, very sexy intercourse that was even more powerful than their earlier more frenetic pace. And that was dangerous because it felt almost like…horrors!...falling in love.

Afterward, they just stared at each other with a mixture of mutual wonder and perhaps a little fear. No words were necessary.

She was awake at three a.m. when Hauk and Egil arose. She knew the time because she still had her wrist watch. But they seemed to awaken to some inner alarm clocks, or maybe it was the sound of movement outside around the camp.

She quickly dressed, although her gown was still damp from her wiping, and minus her panties which would never stay up due to Hauk’s rough treatment of the elastic. She watched with distress as the men dressed for war. With what was probably hysterical irrelevance, Kirstin thought once again of that popular Outlander series and noted that if she’d known she was going to time-travel, she would have planned accordingly, like Claire had. Sewing supplies, soap, gold coins, a first aid kit, antibiotics for heaven’s sake! So many things that would come in handy.

Bjorn was awake, as well, arguing with his father about accompanying the soldiers in the assault, even if only with a rear guard. Hauk was adamant; his son would stay behind and protect her. Kirstin would have protested that she didn’t need protection, but she didn’t want the boy fighting, either.

Before he left, Hauk stood before her, looking like the quintessential Viking warrior wearing a chain mail shirt with scabbarded broadsword and short sword, carrying a leather helmet and a shield with his family’s coat of arms, the chasing hawks design, like that on his arm rings. He put a hand on her shoulder and tipped her chin up with the other hand. “Will you stay until I return?”

“I can hardly leave without my arm rings,” she griped.

He leaned down and kissed the side of her mouth, softly. “Perhaps there are other ways. Promise me that you won’t try.”

“Why?” She tilted her head so he would kiss the other side of her mouth.

“Because you and I have unfinished business.” He kissed her full on the mouth then.

Bjorn made a gagging sound, and Egil chuckled, but Kirstin didn’t care what anyone thought. “Like what?” she murmured, giving his bottom lip a little nip.

Hauk nipped her back and smiled. “You know. Do not deny this…thing…that simmers betwixt us.”

She couldn’t deny it.

Even if there was no attraction, she couldn’t leave the past until she was sure she’d accomplished her goal, whatever it was. But that wasn’t the entire truth. If she were given the chance, would she want to leave without Hauk…that simmering thing unresolved?

And there was something else. Hauk wasn’t important enough of a figure to show up in any history. If she left now, she would never know if he survived this battle. Yes, the Vikings would be the victors, but the fate of individuals…Hauk, Bjorn, Egil? Could she live with not knowing?

He kissed her then, a final connection, and the kiss was sweet with promise, not good-bye. “Don’t leave,” he repeated.

She didn’t answer.

He looked disappointed, but then he was gone.

Several hours later, she awakened from a nap. She’d decided to lie down when the camp was empty of almost everyone, knowing the battle wouldn’t take place until after dawn. She hadn’t expected to fall asleep.

The first thing she noticed was her two arm rings sitting on the bed furs at her feet. She jumped up and grabbed them. Had Hauk decided to leave them, giving her the choice to go or stay?

But, no, when he’d left, the bracelets were still in Bjorn’s custody.

Which meant…

“Oh, my God!” she exclaimed as she looked at the other side of the tent and saw empty bed furs. Rushing outside, she noticed immediately that the horse was gone.

Which meant…oh, my God! Bjorn was gone! He must have followed after his father and the troops. The boy was not an experienced fighter. Oh, this was a disaster in the making.

She looked down at the arm rings that she still held in her hands. Then she looked off into the distance, toward Winchester.

Maybe this is a sign.