“Nay. ‘Tis important. Someone set fire to one of the trade wagons. Men were seen on horseback riding away from the keep.”
Thork cursed and opened the door slightly so Olaf could not see Ruby in her scanty attire. “Where were the guards when the fire started?”
“It happened so quickly. ‘Twas little damage, but the attackers are long gone, probably back to Ivar. Only he would try these cowardly hit-and-run tactics.”
“I will be right down. Do not bother sending men out searching tonight, but put a double guard around the keep.”
When Thork closed the door and turned back to Ruby, he saw her sitting in a chair by the cold fireplace, weeping silently. The sight tore at his innards like a barbed arrow.
“Why do you cry, sweetling?” he asked, kneeling in front of her.
She sobbed loudly now. Between gasps, she told him, “I wanted us to be together before the Althing. Tonight was our last chance.”
Ruby’s tears touched him even deeper than her intense sexual magnetism. “Mayhap I can come back to my sleeping chamber later… if you would wait.”
“No,” she sniffled sadly, “once you leave this room you’ll have second thoughts and convince yourself this is for the best. Probably decide I had something to do with the attack on your wagons.” She dried her tears on the edge of the new cloak.
Thork nodded unhappily, acknowledging she was right. Still, he kissed away her tears, kneeling at her feet. He wanted to prolong this bittersweet moment with her as long as possible, endlessly, sensing there would never be another. Finally he tore himself away, but the image of her in the wispy garment stayed with him through the night as he stood guard, prisoner to his conflicting emotions. When he returned near dawn, he saw the blue cloak folded neatly on his chest.
Ruby was gone.
Chapter Fifteen
Several miles outside Jorvik, they arrived at the wide plain where the national open-air court would assemble. Aud had explained to Ruby on the day-long trip back to Jorvik that district Things, or courts, were held several times each year, though not as often as in the old days, while larger Althings were held only once a year.
Hundreds of bright tents—stripes, checks, solids, in all the colors of the rainbow—fluttered throughout the wide-ranging fields in the manner of a giant fairground. Instead of wild animals and hurdy-gurdy shows, these tents housed the fierce, law-loving Vikings who came from many miles around to socialize and participate in the primitive justice system.
As Dar’s household began to erect their own tents, Olaf and Gyda said good-bye to Ruby. They would be staying at their home in Jorvik.
” ‘Twas a pleasure meeting you,” Gyda said, hugging Ruby warmly. “We did not get to spend much time together at Dar’s manor, but I bid you the best of luck at the Thing. I wanted you to know that I wish you no harm.”
“Thank you. You’ve been so kind to me. I can never repay you.” Ruby’s voice choked on the last words.
“Think naught of it. Leastways, you more than repaid me with the yellow undergarments.” Gyda rolled her eyes in Olaf’s direction. “They were a huge success. Mayhap they will result in another son come spring.”
When Gyda’s words sunk in, Ruby grabbed the Viking woman and gave her a quick squeeze. “Congratulations! Another baby! How I envy you!”
Olaf stepped up next and shifted uncomfortably. “I will stand behind you at the Thing,” he informed her in a blustery fashion. “A strange wench you surely are, but not a spy to my thinking. If thrall you are declared, I will offer to buy you.”
Ruby accepted his oblique support with a nod, then turned to the girls. She embraced each of them in turn, including Tyra who couldn’t wait to get home and see her ducks and kittens.
Later, after they’d eaten their hastily prepared meal outside the tents, Ruby walked with Thork, Eirik and Tykir around the campsite, stopping often to speak with their old friends. Since last night at Ravenshire when they had almost made love, Thork seemed to have softened toward her.