Page 70 of Viking Unchained

It was early, so there were no musicians and blaring music. Nor crowds of men and women looking for partners in bedsport. Mostly, it was men and women stopping on their way home from a day’s work.

This time he was having dinner with Ian, his house-mate for another evening since Madrene had left with the children for her father’s winery at Blue Dragon. He would go there with Ian late tomorrow. I must truly be losing my senses to willingly place myself in the midst of that Magnusson clan.

With them were Geek and Luke Avenil, known as Slick, another SEAL. A dark and brooding man—just as Thorfinn himself had ofttimes been described—Slick was older than the rest. More than thirty-five, he would guess.

Torolf was still off on a mission with yet more SEALs, named JAM, Sly, F.U., and Scary Larry. And I thought Vikings had odd names! Torolf hoped to return afore his father’s harvest feast this weekend.

He could have stayed at Torolf’s apartment, alone, but Ian convinced him it would be more convenient to stay with him. He intended to have him “work out” in the morning. Thorfinn did not want to know what “work out” meant. He had a fair clue it involved sweat and pain. In truth, there was not a bone or muscle in his body that did not hurt, but there was satisfaction in having passed the PST.

“Here’s the deal,” Geek said after wiping the red sauce from the hot wings off his mouth. The best thing about the hot wings, Thorfinn had discovered, was that so much good beer had to be consumed to cool off the tongue. He had also discovered a taste for ice-cold beer, whereas in his country and time, beer, or mead, was lukewarm at best. “We’ll study together twelve hours a day for the next week . . . after you get back from Blue Dragon on Sunday night, that is. Then you can take the verbal test next Friday.”

“I’ll see if there’s any way you can be given the test orally,” Ian added. “Since English is your second language, they might waive the written test. They’ve done it for some foreign military personnel in the past.”

“Where’s Cage?” Slick asked. “I thought he was supposed to meet us here.”

Thorfinn’s ears went on alert at the question he had restrained himself from asking.

“He has a date.” Geek rolled his eyes. “I saw him at the commissary buying a pigload of condoms.”

Well, that is just wonderful. Cage and my woman!

Well, not my woman anymore

If she ever was.

Aaarrgh!

And, really, Cage is military, too. Why him and not me? Does she think he is a milksop who polishes weapons and ne’er uses them?

Bloody hell! I am not going to pine after a woman. She doesn’t want me? Fine! I will find another woman.

Or better yet, I will give up women.

Hah!

Even I know enough not to bite off my cock to spite my stubborn head. Ouch!

“So what do you think?” Geek asked him.

“What?” Thorfinn had been only half attending and worried that he had spoken his pitiful thoughts aloud.

“I asked if that schedule for studying would work for you.”

Whew! THAT question. “Yea, it would, except I will be going to Minnesota next weekend.”

“Minnesota!” the three others exclaimed.

Ian half turned all the way around in his chair to stare at him. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“What? You think just because you grant me hospitality that you own my life?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an asshole?” Ian countered.

“Plenty of times since I have entered this godforsaken country,” he responded, as if it were a compliment.

“You know, there are a hell of a lot of Scandinavians in Minnesota. Mostly farmers, I think,” Slick pointed out. “You planning on moving there?”

“Did I not just take a test to become a SEAL? Nay, I am not planning on moving to Minnesota. And do not, any of you, make a jest about my playing idiot football, just because I am a Viking going to Minnesota.”