Most of the fines were paid in a complicated system of wergild, a person’s worth measured in silver or wool or cows. If a slave had been murdered, the wergild to be paid would be less than for a hesir. For raiding a neighbor’s lands, a Viking could be outlawed, which meant exile from the territory and forfeiture of lands and belongings. Anyone could kill that man with impunity if he stayed.
“Do you enjoy our Thing?” Byrnhil asked, sliding down onto the grass next to Ruby.
“Byrnhil! How wonderful to see you again!”
The king’s mistress wore a spectacular red silk, full-length tunic, her attire more suited to a palace than an outdoor event. Gold bracelets and brooches studded with rubies and emeralds flashed in the sunlight, and she had a narrow gold circlet on her forehead, like a queen.
“This is fascinating,” Ruby said. “I can’t believe the Vikings have such an intricate justice system.”
“We Vikings have always had a great respect for laws. Why would you think otherwise?”
Ruby smiled, ignoring her question, and put her arm around Byrnhil’s shoulders. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her friend. “Have you been jogging lately?”
“Yea, I have, and now travel twice as far each morning as we did afore.”
“Four miles! Not bad!”
” ‘Tis strange. I get this wonderful feeling when I run, almost like the intoxication from fine wine. I cannot see why more people do not do this exercise.”
“Endorphins,” Ruby informed her on a giggle. “It’s called a jogger’s high.”
Byrnhil smiled at Ruby’s strange words and asked her to join her for the midday meal. Vigi, of course, followed them. As they walked, Ruby feasted her eyes on all the sights. Servants roasted whole pigs and deer over open fires. In one massive, wood-lined pit, thralls dropped chunks of meat, juniper berries, mustard seeds, garlic and other herbs into water kept boiling with hot stones—a primitive form of slow cooking. Men roped off areas for the evening’s competitions—weightlifting, wrestling, stallion fighting, races and games of skill, like archery, spear throwing and swordplay.
Craftsmen and merchants set up tables in front of their tents to sell their wares. She and Byrnhil stopped repeatedly to look and touch—everything from carved ivory combs to silk scarves from the Orient to the much-valued amber beads.
“What do you think will happen to me at the Thing?” Ruby finally asked. She and Byrnhil sat on elaborately carved chairs inside a large tent set up for Sigtrygg near the edge of the clearing.
“I doubt the assembly would order your killing unless someone has come up with some evidence to prove you do spy.” She scrutinized Ruby’s face for hidden answers. ” ‘Tis a most grievous offense, to be proven a spy. Then no one could save you.”
Later, when Ruby and Vigi returned to their tent area, they saw that the men had already returned from the Thing. Thork, Dar, Selik, the two boys and a dozen hesirs were gathering linens, soap and changes of clothing to take to the stream where they would bathe before the evening meal and entertainment.
Selik started to walk toward Ruby, but Thork grabbed him by the neck and pulled him along with the men.
“Odin’s spit, you will break my neck,” Selik grumbled.
“Better that than another part of your body.”
Selik looked back at Ruby over his shoulders and rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Act your age,” Thork barked at him.
When they were gone, she and Aud exchanged glances.
” ‘Twould seem my grandson has a burr under his skin. He behaves like a jerk.”
Ruby laughed. “You like that word, don’t you?”
“Yea, almost as much as ‘male chauvinist pig.’ Dar mislikes my using the words, though. So I practice on the servants.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously.
That evening, the family walked back to their tents from the king’s section of the campsite where they’d spent hours listening to music and the skald’s renditions of Viking sagas. Ruby held back to talk with Thork.
“What? Is Selik busy this eve?” Thork sneered.
“Don’t be an ass,” Ruby chastised, though secretly pleased with Thork’s jealousy. “Do you honestly believe I would want to be just another notch on Selik’s womanizing belt?”