Page 37 of The Last Viking

He stiffened, even though he knew she meant well. “I have to try.”

She nodded. “So, assuming that you are able to restore the relic to its rightful place, and the famine ends, then what? Tell me what your life will be like in your…land.”

“First, I intend to find Storr Grimmsson and put an end to his life. He and all his followers will die a torturous death for their miserable deeds. Then, I will return to my shipbuilding business. I own a beautiful farmstead nearby on a fjord.”

“You, a farmer? Somehow I can’t picture that.”

“I get much satisfaction in creating fine ships, and a lucrative living do I make in selling them about the world. In the early days, I was wont to test my vessels on trading voyages, or go a-viking, but in recent years I have not had a yen to travel. Perchance I will go adventuring again, if the mood calls. I can see from this trip that there are many new lands to explore. Then again, mayhap this journey will kill the need to seek new horizons.”

“Perhaps you’re ready to settle down and raise a family.”

He shrugged. “I did that afore and found no great bliss.”

“You did?” she asked with surprise. “You’ve been married?”

“Twice.”

“Twice,” she parroted.

“Both wives died in the child birth. My first wife I wed when I had only seen eighteen winters and she sixteen. Ariside died of the childbed fever after delivering a stillborn babe.”

“Oh, Rolf. I’m so sorry.”

He rolled his shoulders. “’Tis the way of things. And it was a long time ago.”

“And your other wife?”

“My second wife, Signe, died five years ago. Her labor came a month too early and lasted five days. She bled to death.”

“You must have been devastated.”

“Yea, ’twas tragic, their dying early and the babes ne’er having a chance. But I barely knew my wives. The marriages were arranged by my father, and I was gone much of the time.”

She patted his arm. “You’re young. You’ll marry again.”

“Nay, I will not. I have no taste for the married state, and no great inclination to breed heirs. I much resisted the last union with Signe, and only agreed when my father said it would end my blood-duty to him. So, I’ll not wed again.”

She blinked at him with unshed tears. Really, he thought, women went sentimental over the smallest realities of life.

“Leastways, all my appetities can be satisfied by my mistress, the sweet Alyce. She resides in the market town of Hedeby.”

She sneered with disgust.

“Now, you tell me, Merry-Death. What will you do when you complete your obligation to your grandsire? Will you stay here and be a profess-whore?”

“No,” she said, still sniffing condescendingly over his mistress. Women tended to be petty in that way. “I only took a sabbatical from Columbia. I’m expected to return for fall classes.”

“Expected? But what do you want?”

She closed her eyes briefly at the question. When she opened them, he saw bleakness and uncertainty in the green depths. “I really don’t know. All my life I’ve done what others expected of me. My parents. My husband. Even Gramps. I can’t remember a time when anyone asked me what I really wanted. Maybe…”

He cocked his head, waiting.

“…actually, I do know what I want. Love.”

He scoffed.

“I’ve always felt alone. Growing up as a child. Even when I was married. I think I would be happy to give up my career and stay home with a man who loved me, and a houseful of children…well, at least two.”