Page 34 of The Bewitched Viking

I am not going to think doomful thoughts. I will return. I will trust that God placed me in the Viking’s hands for a reason. It was hard keeping the niggling doubts at bay, however.

“Tell me about Hedeby,” Alinor urged.

Bolthor nodded. “There are more than twenty-four hectares enclosed between the ramparts and the sea. See that long, narrow strip of flat land on the open side of the ramparts, facing the water? It is here that some ships and small boats are beached. And here, too, are slips for shipbuilding and repairing.”

“It’s not as big as Jorvik. Still, it looks intriguing.”

“Yea, ’tis. You can find anything of value in Hedeby, whether it be human flesh or fine gold adornments. Next to Jorvik, Tykir sells most of his amber here. In fact, he maintains a house and market stall here year round, watched over by a most trusted craftswoman, Rachelle of Frankland.”

“A woman? Tykir trusts his business interests to a woman?”

“Yea? And why not?”

Alinor shook her head. Tykir ever did throw roadblocks in her condemning assessment of him. “And do you come here often?”

“Nay, twice a year at most these past five years or so. Tykir was not always a merchant, you know. He has much word-fame as a soldier and leader of fighting men. Kings of many countries still seek his services. Alas, his injury at Brunanburh harmed him more than is visible to the eye. And in the winter months, or in seasons of heavy rain, the leg wound pains him sorely, to the point where he becomes almost lame.” His head jerked up. With a startled expression on his face, he remarked, “You have a knack for making a man run at the mouth, without caution or discretion. Is it a witch thing?”

Alinor laughed. “Nay, ’tis a woman thing.” She jiggled her eyebrows at him, and the big man laughed back at her. Turning more serious, she said, “It was at Brunanburh that you lost your eye, wasn’t it?”

He nodded. “Holy Thor! Never have I been engaged in a battle like that one. It marked the end of Viking domination in Britain, for one thing, and amongst those who fed the vultures that day were five kings and seven earls from Ireland, not to mention the son of the king of the Scots. I was left for dead, but Tykir came back for me. To his own peril. ’Twas then a bloody Saxon struck his sword into the jarl’s thigh, clear to the bone. Still, he carried me off the battlefield. The surgeons wanted to remove his leg, but fortunately his sister Rain, a healer of much note, was able to save the limb for him.”

“Tykir’s sister is a healer?” Alinor was astounded. What else did she not know about the dolt? “So how did Tykir get involved in the amber trade?”

“Well, the master was fascinated years ago when he witnessed amber harvesting whilst visiting the Baltic lands. At first, he just engaged in the trading end. Now, he has his own workers there to harvest for him.”

“And is there a woman who handles this, too?”

Bolthor laughed. “Nay, ’tis Arnor No-Teeth who heads that enterprise.”

Tykir walked up then. “Are you regaling Alinor with another of your wondrous sagas?”

Alinor could see that he was in a rare good mood. No doubt he was as relieved as she to finally set foot on soil. And be one step closer to the end of his mission. “Yea, he was,” she answered cheerily, “and I was helping him get the words right.”

Bolthor’s lips turned up with amusement at her lie.

Tykir made a face of mock horror.

“’Tis called ‘Tykir the Troll Angel.’”

Chapter Six

More than two hours later, the seven ships were anchored a short distance from shore, the products to be offered in the trading town had been unloaded, and all the men, except one guard per ship, had disembarked and gone off to enjoy a night of drinking and wenching before going to their winter abodes.

Tykir approached Alinor with a loop of rope in his hand.

“Nay,” she protested, backing away from him.

“Yea,” he insisted, stern-faced and unyielding. “Do not gainsay me now. I have much to do afore nightfall, and no patience have I for your balking.”

“But there’s no need for you to tie my hands…nor my neck. I have nowhere to run here.”

“That doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try.” He moved in closer and waved the end of the rope in her face. “I give you two choices, my lady. I tie you to the masthead till the morn, when I return to the ship. Or I tie your hand to mine.”

“Or you could just let me walk freely at your side.”

He wagged a forefinger in her face. I give you to the count of five. Einn, tveir, rr, fjrir, fimm—”

“Oh, give me the bloody rope.” She grabbed the rope from his hands and tried to tie her own wrist.