Page 75 of The Viking’s Captive

Both men were still staring at her chest.

I have heard enough!

Apparently, not enough, for Bolthor came up just then and gave Tyra an adoring look from his one good eye. The giant skald looking adoring was a sight to behold … rather like a one-eyed randy bear. “I have a gift for you, my lady.” “For me?” Even Tyra appeared startled by Bolthor’s interest.

The poet nodded his head vigorously. “A praise-poem, written just for you. Wouldst like to hear it?”

Nay, nay, nay!

“Well, of course, Bolthor.” He would have liked to shake Tyra thoroughly, but her breasts would undoubtedly pop out.

“This saga is called ‘Lady in the Red Gown.’” Uh-oh!

“There once was a lady fair

Whose love no man could snare.

All her beauty she did hide

Under male garb of leather dried.

A sword she did carry,

In battle she did tarry.

Methinks the lady knew not her worth

Till the day a crimson gown came forth.

Then the lady did bloom,

Like the finest peacock plume.

Now the lady gets her pick

Of all the men lovesick.

But she best not too quickly stir

Or she will have a spillover,

And more suitors than she would prefer.

Praise be to Tyra, Warrior Princess

And her crimson dress.”

“That was truly awful,” Tyra murmured under her breath. But to Bolthor she said, “That was wonderful.”

“Would you like another?” He was gazing at her like a moonstruck calf.

“Perhaps later,” she said graciously. “Right now, me-thinks Ingrith is in need of a good saga. She is in the scullery, I believe, overtired from preparing this fine meal. Dost think you could cheer her up?”

Bolthor’s one eye lit up as if he’d just been handed a great treasure. “I know just the one. ‘Praise Be to Pork.’”

Well, Bolthor’s saga-saying had accomplished one thing, to Adam’s mind. Gunter and Egil were nowhere to be seen … for now, leastways. Adam had feared having to challenge them to a duel, or some such gruesome feat of challenge.

“You certainly handled Bolthor well,” Adam congratulated Tyra, trying for a pleasant tone.