Page 14 of The Caged Viking

Oh, no! Oh, no, no, no! Kirstin knew in that instant where she was. The great hall of Winchester Castle in the year 1015, give or take. Just before the Viking invasion.

How can I be so sure, down almost to the precise year?

Well, duh! Isn’t this what I’ve been studying for the past ten or so years? Isn’t this what I actually lived a long time ago?

Could I have landed on some television production set?

No, that isn’t it. There isn’t a camera in sight. Or behind-the-scenes workers in regular contemporary clothing.

Somehow, some way, I have time-traveled, in reverse, she concluded.

She had joked with her father and other family members several months ago about traveling back in time to save the Viking of her dreams. But she hadn’t really been serious. After all, she wasn’t a soldier or special ops person equipped in any way to rescue a captive. Besides, her dreams had stopped.

End of story.

Or so she’d thought.

Looking around her, once she was convinced she wasn’t dreaming, or hallucinating, or anything like that, she berated herself for not being prepared. Even Claire, in that famous Outlander series, had planned for her adventure by packing a bag of photographs, modern medicines, ancient coins, and other necessities. All Kirstin had was what she wore.

But I have my brain, Kirstin told herself. Time to use it to figure out why I’m here, and how to get back home. She breathed in and out, determined not to panic. At heart, she knew why she was here…or rather who was responsible for her time-travel.

The question is…she began to study the crowd in more detail, to no avail…where is My Viking?

Chapter 5

The best-laid plans of mice and Viking men…

Tonight was the night, and not a moment too soon. If all went according to plan, Hauk would be out of his cage and riding off with Egil to join the Viking hirdsmen for the attack on Winchester Castle and its Saxon surroundings. He already had a knife, hidden in his loincloth, and horses and other weapons should be a’ready in a nearby woodland.

There was a worry, though. The Saxon nobles and their fighting men who remained in Aethelred’s great hall following the evening meal were imbibing more ale than usual in their attempt to put on brave fronts. The more they drank, the louder their boasts of past victories and of ones to come in the days ahead. Also, the more they drank, glances kept darting his way, with angry remarks, as if he were a symbol for all heathen Vikings who dared to invade their country. If one of them got any more drukkin, the mead-brave lackwit might just attempt something foolish, like dragging Hauk out for the amusement of his comrades-in-ale.

Hauk breathed in deeply, then exhaled slowly, repeating the process several times in an attempt to slow his racing heartbeat. Energy abounded in his body, like it always did before a battle.

Just then, Egil sidled up and whispered, “Who is she?”

“Who? What?” Hauk was more than annoyed with the man. He’d warned Egil not to approach his cage anymore today, lest he raise suspicions about their relationship at this late date.

“The woman who is asking for you?”

“Huh?”

Egil pointed to the far end of the hall where a woman in a blue gown was talking to some nobles who appeared to be amused by what she was saying. He didn’t recognize her, but then, it was hard to tell what she looked like from this distance and from the dark, smoky atmosphere of the cavernous hall.

Hauk waved a hand dismissively and asked, “Everything is arranged?”

Egil nodded. “Bergliot is taking the horses to the forest, as we speak.”

That bedmate of Egil’s! Hauk bit his lip to prevent telling Egil once again how halfbrained it was to drag a female with them. “Clothing for me?”

“Yea, and weapons. All is set. Just waiting for these Saxon whoresons to make for their beds.”

Hauk would like to kill a few of these Saxon nobles before he left the castle, especially those involved in the St. Brice’s Day Massacre, especially King Aethelred, but good sense curbed his appetite for revenge. For now. They would pay, though. That, Hauk vowed.

There was a sudden stir in the center of the hall as the woman in blue approached the high table, where King Aethelred still sat with his wife and several of his thanes. Was she demented? A person didn’t address the royal family unless invited, and it appeared as if she’d just marched up, big as you please, and demanded an audience.

Oh, good gods! Hauk recognized the woman now. It was the female who’d appeared before his cage some sennights ago, the one who’d worn the symbol of a dog on her shert. He’d assumed it had just been a dream. That she was a fantasy of his tortured brain.

Queen Emma leaned forward over the high table, not an easy feat with her big belly, as she listened to the lady in blue speaking to her, gesticulating with her hands as she spoke. Others at the high table appeared interested, too, in whatever the lady was saying. Even those below the salt, sodden with drink, were listening, no doubt bored and open to new entertainment.