“Ruby is my responsibility, boy. Go find some dimwitted slut who knows not the difference between a man and a boy.”
Instead of taking umbrage at the insult, Selik hooted with glee at the expression on Thork’s face. “Smitten! Thor’s blood! Ne’er did I think to see the day! The maid has skewered you good and fine.”
After Selik left, Ruby and Thork continued to hear his fading laughter.
“So now you practice your wiles on boys.”
“I did not.”
“Best you be praying instead of flirting, wench,” he lashed out, reminding her of her dire circumstances.
Before Ruby fell asleep that night, she decided she liked Thork’s proprietary manner. It spoke of deeper feelings he would not admit.
When she awakened early the next day, she ate a cold meal and washed up in a stream, then went to the opening ceremonies for the Althing with Aud. Women didn’t participate, except as occasional witnesses, but they were permitted to watch. A massive, open-sided tent screened a low platform from the summer sun. Sigtrygg sat in the place of honor, along with twenty well-dressed jarls, including Dar. At least five hundred freemen of Northumbria, who had the right to vote, surrounded them on the ground.
“With the law shall the kingdom be built up, and with lawlessness wasted away,” a booming voice called out, officially declaring the opening of the Althing.
“That is the law speaker, Assen.” Aud pointed to an imposing figure who had moved to the head of the jarls. “He will read one-third of all the laws contained in the Danelaw legal codes from memory, then one-third next year and one-third the following year. Listen, he explains the Viking law and specific crimes and punishments.”
While some of the punishments were downright barbaric, such as chopping off a hand for thievery, or stoning a witch, or decapitating a traitor, most of the laws were based on a simple premise: an innocent man should not be unjustly accused, and the guilty should not be protected.
“Your case will not come before the Thing today,” Thork said, coming up to Ruby where she sat on a slight hill to the side of the platform. She and Aud had a perfect view of the proceedings under Vigi’s diligent guard.
Ruby breathed a sigh of relief at Thork’s words.
“There are so many disputes to hear, it may be two days afore they get to you.”
“Is that good or bad for me?”
“It could go either way.” He shrugged. “Depends on the mood of the jarls—or Sigtrygg. Need I warn you to behave yourself until then?”
Ruby shook her head. Thork looked as if he wanted to say more, then thought better of it before he turned and walked away to join his friends.
First the assembly discussed King Athelstan’s proposal that King Sigtrygg marry his sister. Sigtrygg stood, an impressive sight in a jewel-studded purple tunic and a gold circlet around his forehead denoting his rank. “Good people, I would announce my betrothal to the Saxon sister of King Athelstan.”
A murmur of protest arose in the crowd.
“Nay, think not that I wish this joining, but I have been convinced ‘twould be in the best interest of all Vikings in Northumbria.” Sigtrygg looked pointedly at Thork in the front row. He went on to discuss all the advantages that Thork had mentioned at the castle the first night Ruby had arrived in Jorvik.
The assembly decided that a representative of the king should attend Athelstan’s coronation ceremony on the fourth of September at Kingston, where a date would be set with Athelstan for a fall meeting between the two kings and a January wedding at Tamworth.
Then the Thing moved on to the routine business of settling legal disputes—everything from disagreements over property lines to murder. Ruby sat fascinated for hours, even after Aud went back to the tent to rest.
Each time a new case came up, the law speaker outlined the charges or the dispute to the panel on the platform, loud enough so that all could hear. Each side brought their supporters or witnesses with them. They faced each other, with the law speaker acting as arbiter, fielding questions from the king and jarls, as well as freemen in the assembly. Questions were decided on a final vote, not by a ballot or voice vote, but by vapnatak, the rattle of weapons.