“Of course. There was never any question of that.”
Some women liked to torture men. He kissed her deeply, then whispered in her ear, “Did I ever tell you about this sexual position that is a favorite of betrothed women?”
She laughed and said, “Is it just you, or are all Viking men so irresistible?”
“We are all irresistible,” he said. And that was the truth.
* * *
Epilogue
« ^
Rock-a-bye… Vikings…
It was summertime at Briarstead, and Vagn Ivarsson’s first child had been born two hours ago.
Maeva had taken a terrifying day and a half coming into this world. Terrifying to Vagn and Gorm, that is. The midwife and Helga had taken it all in stride.
Helga finally slept, thanks to a sleeping potion. Gorm had gone down to the great hall to drink himself dotty in celebration. He and Toste planned to join him soon.
“I hate to tell you this, Vagn,” his brother said, looking over his shoulder at the bald-headed, shrivel-faced babe in Vagn’s arms, “but your babe is a mite homely.”
“She is not!” Vagn declared adamantly. “Maeva is beautiful.” And she was. To him.
He saw Toste’s grin and knew he was teasing him, as usual.
Toste and Esme had come from Evergreen a sennight ago so they could be present for the birth. Esme was down in the scullery preparing a fortifying beef marrow broth for Helga when she awakened.
Toste and Vagn had married their lady loves at Ravenshire in a double wedding ceremony performed by Archbishop Dunstan. Everyone had agreed that it was the best yuletide celebration they’d ever attended. Later, they’d had wild Viking ceremonies at their own estates.
“We’ve been given a gift,” Vagn said dreamily.
“Dost mean you and Helga and the babe?”
He shook his head. “Nay. You and me. We met the Raven of Death and escaped her clutches. It really was a miracle, our surviving the battle, then being reunited. A miracle.”
Toste nodded.
Vagn laughed then, looking down at his precious girling who was sleeping peacefully, her tiny thumb stuck in her mouth. “Finally I have done something first. Right from the beginning, you came from the womb first, and you have always been one step ahead of me thereafter. But I… I had the first child.”
“That you did, Vagn,” Toste conceded, “but I will of course outdo you once again. Esme is breeding, and”—he paused dramatically—”the midwife predicts twins.”
Outdone! Again! Well, not really. “Congratulations! Another miracle!”
Both brothers laughed heartily then, cherishing the miracle that was a Viking’s life… their life.
It was appropriate that Bolthor came into the room then and said, “Methinks this occasion merits a special saga.”
“For a certainty,” both brothers concurred, for once welcoming a praise-poem from the world’s worst skald.
“A good title for this one would be ‘A Tale of Two Vikings.'”
“Lost they were in the sea of life,
Two brothers who faced much strife.
Twins they were, bonded from birth,
In everything they always found mirth,
Till one day the Raven called them home,
And that is the subject of this poem.
Because death met its match
When it tried these twins to snatch.
In the end, they were brought to their knees,
By two women, if you please.
The moral of this saga, my friend?
Love conquers all in the end.”
THE END
* * *
Author’s Letter
Dear Readers:
Well, I gave you not one but two Vikings this time with A Tale of Two Vikings. What did you think of Toste and Vagn?
And, by the way, remind me never again to give my Vikings unpronounceable names. My critique partners berate me about this all the time. In fact, the first time I heard my friend pronounce Toste’s name as Toasty, I almost died. The truth is, I never intended these twins to be heroes, else I would have thought this through better. No one knows for sure how these names were pronounced a thousand years ago, but this is how I say them. Toss-tee. Vay-gan.
I learned something about myself in writing this book. What I like most to do… in fact what I instinctively do… is provide a hero’s journey. Yes, the heroines are important in my novels, but writing the man’s point of view is essential. At one time books were written from one point of view only, and in the case of women’s fiction, it was the heroine’s journey. How far we have come! Interesting, isn’t it, that we women understand ourselves better when we see ourselves through men’s eyes… especially gorgeous Vikings with a sense of humor.