Page 98 of The Caged Viking

Several massive yule logs, with their carved runic symbols, lay at the ready. The logs would burn for the twelve yule days, representing light, despite the darkness outside, and hope for the end of long winter nights.

He went up and checked the low table, which remained still below the dais, even though the need for it was no longer there, with Zoya gone. He needed to see if everything was ready for the wedding to be performed this evening, not that he hadn’t checked twice before. Yea, laid out on the white cloth were Thorkel’s short sword, Heart Stabber, a bowl of grains, a small knife, a cup of wine, a polished stone, a hammer, and a leather thong. Oh, wait, there should be some coins. He dug into the leather pouch which hung from his belt and pulled out five silver pieces which he set on the table.

Hauk had to admit to being nervous about the words he would have to speak to seal the wedding vows. Mayhap he should go seek Thorkel to see if he was nervous, too, for different reasons. Hauk looked forward to teasing the longtime bachelor.

But wait. He heard a clatter outside the front double doors of the keep, which were rarely used, followed by the sound of voices. Oh, gods! He hoped Signe hadn’t convinced Thorkel that he should put a row of yule decoration on the roof line all around the keep, as she’d threatened. She was the one who had gone a bit barmy with her decorating of his hall, even putting boughs in the garderobe. But outside? Nay, he had to put a stop to this madness. With the iced-over snow, the lovesick fool could fall and break his neck, and Signe would be without a groom for her wedding.

But then he heard the neighing of horses, and knew it was something else. His guests had arrived. Hauk had half hoped that Ingolf’s party would not be coming, since they hadn’t arrived when expected two days ago. Alas!

“Bjorn!” he hollered at the top of his lungs.

“Holy Thor! I’m right here,” Bjorn complained, pretending to knock his ears which were presumably blocked at the loudness of Hauk’s voice.

Hauk hadn’t realized that his son was on this side of the hall, behind a pillar, playing the board game hnefatafl with Floki, a warrior-in-training of about the same age. He’d thought the boy was in the adjoining weapon room polishing a sword he’d given him as an early yule gift.

“Sorry,” Hauk said. “Come, help me greet our guests.”

Reluctantly, Bjorn ended his game and came up to stand beside Hauk. He could swear the boy had grown half a head taller, just since they’d been at Haukshire. He was growing into a handsome Viking and would soon be shaving that blond fuzz on his face, or leaving it to grow into a beard.

Together, they each opened a door and stepped outside. Thankfully, his men had dug out a wide space on this front courtyard, and kept the steps clear. Standing on the threshold, he put his hand on Bjorn’s shoulder. “Behave,” he warned under his breath. Bjorn was of an age when betimes he let out inappropriate remarks and thought them funny, especially if his friends were around. Same went for inappropriately timed body sounds.

“Who? Me?” he said, fluttering his blond eyelashes.

Hauk just smiled, and turned his attention to the scene before him—an open sleigh with seating for four, pulled by two matched white horses. There were also four guardsmen riding handsome mounts.

Ingolf got down first, hopping with ease off the high riding board. The last time Hauk had seen Ingolf, he’d been a young man, and his father the jarl. He was in his fifties now, a graybeard. But he’d aged well. His white plaited hair and forked beard were well-tended, his body still tall and straight, all of which were enhanced by his fine clothing…a fox-lined, long cloak and polished black knee boots.

“Welcome, Jarl Ingolf,” Hauk said, stepping forward.

“Hauksson,” Ingolf said, meeting Hauk with extended arms which clasped his shoulders. “It is good to see you again.”

“I understand my former steward Halfdan took refuge with you.” Hauk wanted to get that issue out of the way right off.

“Hah! That wily weasel! I soon put him on his way. Last I heard, he was in Kauptang.” Ingolf gave him a steady, assessing gaze and added, “I want no enmity between our clans. Yea, I have coveted some of your lands, but mostly it was because they had been so neglected. I mean no offense, but your father was not a good landowner.”

Hauk nodded, even though he knew Ingolf was feeding him a load of dragon shit. Even so, he could play the game. “No offense taken. Hopefully, we will deal well with each other, now that I am in residence.” He hoped Ingolf got the hidden message in his hospitable words, Beware or suffer the consequences.

Ingolf helped his wife and daughters down from the sleigh then and introductions were made all around. His wife, Revna, was much younger than her husband, probably in her late thirties, with flaming red hair, diminutive in form under a gray sable cloak. Hauk did not know if Revna was a second wife, considering the difference in ages, but then many older men preferred young spouses. More introductions were made, and many “Happy Yule” greetings exchanged. The two daughters, Gisela and Gertrud, were dark-haired and similar in appearance to their father, probably born of Ingolf’s first wife. They could be no more than thirteen and fourteen. Thorkel had to be mistaken that Ingolf wanted a match between Hauk and one of his daughters. In fact, Bjorn was gawking at the younger one like she was a goddess vision come to life.

Thorkel and some men came up then to lead the sleigh and the other horses to the barns out back. Everyone else walked up into his keep while Ingolf’s men carried trunks into the bedchambers being given over for their use. At the number of trunks, Hauk wondered how long they intended to stay, but he did his best to be hospitable.

He could tell that Ingolf was surprised at how well his hall looked. Hauk was thankful now that Signe had taken so much care with the decorations.

Had Ingolf expected Hauk to have been as careless as his father in tending his home?

Probably.

At least with all this company and busyness, Hauk would have no time to think about She Who He No Longer Mentioned or allowed to be mentioned.

* * *

What to do, what to do?...

It was two weeks before Christmas, normally her favorite season of the year, but Kirsten couldn’t get into the spirit. Just the opposite. Every Christmas carol heard on her car radio, every Christmas decoration she saw in stores, every greeting of “Happy Holidays” drove her deeper into a pit of depression. Occasionally, she burst into a bout of weeping, without warning. She tried to hide it from her family, probably to no avail.

Her brothers and sisters tried to help. Lida wanted her to come to New York to see her Broadway show and meet a hot actor who was dying to meet her. Yeah! Ha, ha, ha! Storvald said that a special holiday program was being held at Rosestead, which she would love. Plus, there was a hot Maine lobsterman who was dying to meet her. Yeah! Ha, ha, ha! Marie wanted her to come skiing in Colorado. And meet this hot chef who was dying to meet her. Yeah! Ha, ha, ha! On and on they went. It was funny, really, but a bit sad that she was so pathetic.

“I’m going into the village today for a little Christmas shopping,” Angela said now. “Would you like to go with me?”