Page 106 of The Bewitched Viking

“One thing is for sure,” he said, handing her up onto the landing board that spanned the distance from dock to ship, “I will never forget you, Alinor the Witch.”

“And I will never forget you, Tykir the Troll.”

In the background, aboard ship, she heard Beast barking madly, Rurik cursing about one thing or another, Adam flirting with a hesir’s wife, who was going with him to Birka, and Bolthor reciting a new poem:

“Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Some Vikings are smart.

Some Vikings are dumb.

Some Vikings see with their eyes.

Some Vikings see with their hearts.

Some Vikings are so bewitched,

They cannot see at all.

This is the tale of

The dumb Viking.”

On the morning of the second day they arrived at Trondelag and Anlaf’s castle.

At least a hundred longships of all sizes, including the large knarrs, or trading vessels, were lined up along the docks or anchored a short distance out to sea. Alinor was walking along the quayside, waiting for Tykir to return from paying his respects to the king. Then he would put her on an England-bound vessel with Rurik before making sail himself for the Baltics. He wanted to waste no more time, since the winds were good today.

Even Bolthor’s one good eye had seemed to well up with emotion. “We will see each other again, Lady Alinor,” Bolthor had said gruffly before going off to perform some ship chores. “I feel certain of that.”

Alinor didn’t share that certainty, but Bolthor’s final words had brought a slight smile to her face.

“There once was a lady from Graycote.

On her many sheep she did dote.

Then came a Viking on his boat.

And with love she was smote.

But to him she did not quote.

Thus he had no vote.

Now on a ship she will float.

Back to her own lonely moat.

Over this sad tale, no one will gloat.

Thus the skald wrote.”

“It rhymes,” had been the only words she’d been able to come up with. But Bolthor had taken that as a compliment, saying, “Yea, those are the best kind.”

While Tykir had gone inside the castle, she chose to stay outside, wanting no repetition of the witchcraft charges levied against her. Besides, Tykir had not invited her to accompany him. Was he ashamed of his relationship with her, which had no doubt spread through the Viking gossip chain? Or was he protecting her sensibilities against any mean-spirited besmirching of her reputation?

“Pssst! Pssst!”

Alinor turned this way and that before she recognized that it was King Anlaf’s older sister, Gudny, who was standing behind some barrels of salted herring, trying to get her attention. Jerking her head sharply, she indicated that Alinor should join her in hiding.