Page 24 of Viking Unchained

Torolf groaned at his use of the word wench, but then stiffened. “No, no, no. Not Lydia Denton. Do not go setting your sights on her.”

“Why not?”

“She’s a friend of the women in my family, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Now it was Thorfinn’s turn to stiffen. “Dost think I am such a dolt as to offend every woman I meet?”

Without hesitation, Torolf said, “Yes.”

“I can be charming when I want.”

“Are you kidding? You are the most insulting man I’ve ever met. Hell, you wouldn’t know charming if it hit you in the face. Do you even know how to smile?”

He decided to ignore his cousin’s insults and concentrated instead on the black-haired woman. Lydia, his cousin had named her.

Lydia sounds much like Luta, he thought of a sudden.

He attempted to see better across the room, and, in truth, there were some similarities. Height. Slender build. Nose and chin. But, nay, this woman had a definite bosom, whereas Luta’s chest had been flat as a round of unleavened manchet bread. And Luta had been blonde.

Still, there were common characteristics and a similar name. Most important, there was an ominous tightening sensation in his gut that he often experienced just before battle . . . a signal of something big about to happen.

Is it possible that Luta time-traveled, too?

Of course not! What a fanciful notion!

But then, he gasped as an even more fanciful notion hit him, this time in the chest, causing his lungs to contract and his breath to be cut short.

Is it possible that Miklof is here in this land?

Is that the reason for my time travel?

Is this woman . . . Lydia . . . the key to all I hold dear in this world?

For the first time in what seemed like forever, he smiled. Life was suddenly worth living again.

Chapter 5

When old loves become new

loves . . .

Lydia and Kirstin were laughing so hard they could barely speak.

The two ensigns who’d been hustling them had gone over to the bar to replenish their drinks when Lydia and Kirstin took one look at each other and burst out laughing.

“They’re sooooo young,” Lydia said, swiping under her eyes to make sure her mascara hadn’t smeared.

“Yes. And that’s great, isn’t it? You know what they say about younger men and older women, sweetie?”

“But Lanny wanted to know if I have an Xbox. At first I thought he was referring to my sexual parts. I know, I know, I’m behind the times. But really, do thirty-year-old women play video games?”

“Hey, the guy who was talking to me . . . Elliott . . . implied that his package is larger than average. As if that’s the first thing mature women are looking for?”

“Isn’t it?”

They both burst out laughing again.

All of a sudden, Lydia felt a prickling at the back of her neck. It was the sensation her grandmother used to describe as “being tickled by the devil.”