Page 67 of Truly, Madly Viking

Oh, God! How should she answer that? "Norway, I think."

"Hmmm."

"What's the problem, Doctor?"

"Well, you see, we've got a puzzle on our hands here. The lab work came back, and the blood tests show a rare strain of virus that I haven't seen ever, and I've been in practice for forty-odd years."

"It's not the flu?"

"It's most definitely not the flu."

An alarming thought occurred to her, something she should have considered immediately with two

daughters in the house. "Is it contagious?"

"Not at this stage. Nothing to worry about .... there."

"Is it a serious wires?" Her throat closed over as she choked out, "Terminal?"

The doctor laughed softly. "No, nothing like that. It's just that this particular virus hasn't been around for hundreds of years... maybe even a thousand years."

"Huh? Hey, even I know that there were no blood tests back then."

"I realize that, but there were specific symptoms mentioned in some of the AngloSaxon medical journals for a disease called Seafarers' Lament. Mr. Rand's unusual symptoms fit that disease to a tee. And they don't fit any modern virus we have on record."

"Unusual symptoms? Like what?"

"Swelling in the armpit and groin areas. Distinctive blotches on the skin... pink patches with white dots.

Tremors in the thighs. Excruciating headaches at the base of the skull. Shrinkage of the tongue. Dilation of the pupils with a purplish shading to the cornea. A red tint in the urine sample. In those days, the malady was most often fatal, but today... well, modern treatments should work. You say that he already appears to be improving? Well, it's pure luck that we hit on the right drug for his virus so quickly."

"Yes, but now I'm really worried."

"I think we should admit him to the hospital, if only for observation. I have colleagues at Johns Hopkins University who would love to study this chap."

Suddenly, in the midst of the information the physician was relaying, one thought came through loud and clear: Joe really was from the tenth century. No, she amended, Jorund really was who he had told her he was, though she'd have a hard time thinking of him as anything but Joe. The man was a time traveler from a thousand years ago.

How was that possible?

And, of more immediate importance, how could she subject him to the public scrutiny that would surely ensue if she allowed them to admit him to a hospital?

He would be like a freak on display.

But how could she not admit him if his life was in danger?

"Doctor, would it be possible for me to treat him here at home? I have some medical training, and as I told you, he already seems to be improving. Besides, he has no insurance and no money to pay for an expensive hospital stay."

"Well, I suppose. As long as you follow my instructions carefully, and call me, or my service, the minute you notice any changes for the worse, I suppose it would be all fight. To tell you the truth, we're understaffed here with the holiday weekend. Yes, I think your suggestion would be satisfactory... for now. I want to see him first thing Monday morning, though."

Maggie agreed, but what she thought was, No way! She would not go back to that hospital unless there were a medical emergency. After getting detailed directions from the doctor, Maggie went down the hall to the den once again. For a long time she sat on the edge of the bed, bathing Joe's face and chest and bare arms with cool cloths. The whole time, Maggie's mind reeled with the enormity of what she'd just discovered.

Joe really was a Viking.

Two weeks later...

"Can we stop at McDonald's." Joe asked from the passenger seat as her car zoomed by the popular fast-food restaurant.

Maggie had come home from work today to find Joe dressed and ready for a ride to Orcaland, which was closed for the season. He had wanted to stand by the fence and try to commune with some invisible whale off in the distance. Apparently the whale was out of range, or ignoring him.