Page 61 of The Viking’s Captive

“Yea, you could,” Vana insisted, pushing the brick into Tyra’s hand. “Practice.”

Tyra had a hard time concentrating on spear throwing the rest of the morning when all she could see in her imagination was herself with a brick on her head. No, that wasn’t all she saw. She also saw a too-handsome-to-be-true Saxon doctor with his mouth on her breast.

Could I really learn to flirt? And walk like a longship riding the waves? And purse my lips? Never! Never ever! Well, mayhap once. Nay, never, never, never!

Save me, Odin,she prayed.

But all she heard in her head was Loki laughing.

God spare him from pestsome friends…

Adam was headed toward the solar just before noon when he saw Tykir and Bolthor approaching him.

He’d sat with Thorvald for three solid hours, and not once had the king awakened, to Adam’s dismay. So now he was off to treat some other patients.

“Adam, I want to give you a few bits of manly advice,” Tykir said, walking along with him on the right. Bolthor matched his strides on the left side.

“Go away, Uncle.”

“I have had many more years of experience with women than you have, and believe you me, the female animal is a difficult one to understand. You should listen to me,” Tykir expounded.

“Go away, Uncle.”

“Before Alinor, I had a reputation as a good lover. Even now, I am sure Alinor would vouch for me in that regard … if you catch her on a good day, that is.”

“Except for that time you lost your knack,” Bolthor reminded Tykir.

“Both of you, go away. I do not want or need your advice.”

Tykir totally ignored his protests and blathered on. “We already know that you have mastered the art of kissing a maid witless, as evidenced by last night. And you already know the importance of catching a wench alone, also based on last night. You must act quickly to seduce the maid, in case her father awakens … in which case I see a forced marriage for compromising his daughter. Actually, whether the king lives or dies, your chances of landing in her bed furs are diminishing by the day.”

Thank God they do not know about the pact I’ve made with Tyra. I will be in her bed furs, for sure. Well, I am fairly sure.

“We have decided that you must give Tyra more hot looks,” Bolthor said.

“Who is we?”

Tykir waved a hand airily. “Me, Bolthor, Rafn, Rashid.”

“You are all discussing my sex life amongst yourselves? Have you naught else to do with your time?”

“We care about you,” Tykir said. And he probably meant it.

“I have written an advice-poem for you,” Bolthor added. Already that dreamy expression covered the skald’s face which indicated that another awful poem was about to burst from his lips.

Tykir was grinning at Adam’s discomfort till Bolthor told him, “You could learn from this, too, Tykir.”

Tykir blushed. He actually blushed.

“I call this one ‘Manly Rules of Love.’

“Man is a witless creature

When it comes to women lore.

But the ancients do say

There is a way