Page 42 of Viking Unchained

In the background, he could hear Hilda squawking, something about, “Love slave? That male chauvinist cousin of yours is going to land us all in jail.”

Ignoring Hilda’s prattle, to Torolf he said, “About two sennights . . . till I meet my son.”

There was silence at the other end. Then a long sigh. “Finn, your son is dead. You’ve got to accept that and get on with your life.”

“Mayhap he is, and mayhap he is not. I must needs be sure.”

“Listen, buddy, I’m going operational tonight, and I might not be back for a week or so. I would feel a lot better if you were back here at the apartment, or at Blue Dragon.”

“I will be fine here. Do not worry. If there is a problem, I will call Ragnor or your father, whose numbers you gave me along with your own. Is Geek going with you?”

“Why?”

“Just answer me.”

“No, Geek won’t be traveling with us. He sprained his ankle in P.T. this morning.”

“Good.”

“Good? Geek being hurt in physical training is good? What kind of half-assed remark is that?”

“Enough of this prattle, Torolf. May Thor guide your weapon arm on your mission and Odin give you wise counsel for strategy. We will speak on your return.” Thorfinn clicked off the talking connection before his cousin could question or chastise him more. Really, Torolf treated him like a youthling, not a grown man of thirty winters.

Next he consulted the parchment he’d given Lydia with the numbers on it. This time, with much care, he tapped in the numbers for Geek himself, and prided himself on his success.

After first gaining a pledge of secrecy from Geek as to his whereabouts, he made arrangements for the young man to come there later that afternoon, urging him to bring his lap computer, a magic invention which was helpful in his studies.

He was only half-attending when the phone rang in his hand, jolting him with surprise. Studying the different buttons, he pressed the green one and put the phone to his ear.

“Hullo!” a young voice said. “Who’s this?”

“Thorfinn. Who are you?”

“Michael. Where’s my mom?”

Thorfinn slapped a hand over his suddenly racing heart. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he was unable to speak over the lump in his throat.

“She is here,” he choked out.

“What’s she doin’?”

“Making a meal.”

“Lunch?”

“Yea, we are breaking fast. Ham burglers, I think.”

“Be careful she doesn’t sneak some veggies in, especially onions.”

He lifted his head from the phone and asked Lydia, “Are you putting onions in my ham burgler?”

She went suddenly stiff and stomped over to him. “Who are you talking to? I thought you were talking to Torolf.” She grabbed the phone out of his hands.

He moved to a chair by the table, leaned back, and watched her interact with what could very well be his son.

“Who was that? Oh, nobody.”

She calls me nobody, does she? We shall see about that.