An inexplicable feeling of emptiness overcame Ruby, followed by a foreboding that her future with Thork was in true peril.
Chapter Nineteen
Ruby was treated like a newfound pet during the following week—given special tours of the castle and a newly built cathedral, dressed in the finest clothing, adorned with jewels, accepted as a long-lost loved one come home. At night, she sat at the high table with Hrolf’s family and favored guests. Afterwards, they cajoled her into storytelling and singing until she pleaded exhaustion, then couldn’t sleep for want of Thork.
She was miserable.
Hrolf and his court conspired to keep her apart from Thork. They were given no opportunity to speak in private, let alone touch or kiss or share a bed. Ruby ached for him across the distance of the hall, unable to bear the accusing, wounded looks with which he seared her. He seemed to think the separation pleased her, that she’d used him to achieve her ultimate end—the safety of Hrolf’s protection.
Three nights before, Thork had pushed his way through the retainers who surrounded the Norman ruler, demanding, “By your leave, Hrolf, I would speak to Ruby in private.” Ruby could see how the polite words grated on Thork when he really wanted to bellow at Hrolf for his underhanded tactics.
“Later. Later,” Hrolf had coolly evaded, asking, “What think you of King Athelstan’s buildup of fortified burhs?”
Then last night, Thork had tried again, but Hrolf had deflected him by urging, “Come, tell me of the goods you carry on your ships. Mayhap you have some items I need for my troops, or trinkets Poppa would cherish.”
Finally, tonight, Thork didn’t even try. He drank heavily, watching Ruby with hawklike eyes, surely taking in the fact that she’d lost weight and had dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. Ruby yearned to go to Thork, to assure him of her love, but two guards posted near her at all times thwarted such efforts.
Observing Thork’s excessive drinking and the insolent glares he cast toward him, his host, Hrolf, slammed his goblet on the table and directed a servant icily, “Tell Harald’s fleabitten get that I wish to speak with him—if he is not too besotted with my ale.”
Despite the large amount of alcohol he must have consumed, Thork carried himself with rigid dignity to the dais, pointedly ignoring Ruby who sat nearby. His bloodshot eyes spoke of sleepless nights and unspoken hurts. Ruby stood to go to him, but a guard placed a firm, forbidding hand on her shoulder, pressing her back to her seat. Thork’s impassive face showed no emotion, but Ruby noticed his fists clenching and unclenching where he held them behind his back in a seemingly casual pose. The movement sent ripples up the corded muscles of his bare arms.
“Didst the misbegotten whelp of Rognvald wish to address the misbegotten whelp of Harald?” Thork snarled at Hrolf, throwing the insult in the Norman ruler’s message back in his face.
Thork’s arrogant stance, as well as the foolhardy words, infuriated Hrolf. He stood angrily, dwarfing everyone around him with his size and temper. Only Poppa’s hand on his arm kept him from attacking Thork with his bare hands. Instead, he sat back down and scrutinized Thork with flashing eyes. “When dost thou leave for Jomsborg, Thork?” Hrolf inquired through tense white lips, his tone making it rudely apparent that Thork had worn his welcome thin. “Surely thou dost not worry over Ruby’s safety still?” His lips curled with contempt before he added, “I thought Jomsvikings were not permitted to leave their fortified palaces for more than three days at a time.”
Thork curled his lips, as well, mimicking Hrolf, and answered in a surly voice, “I had permission to conduct my grandfather’s business and to handle my own trading concerns, but, yea, I will depart soon. But first, I will speak to Ruby.”
“To ask her to accompany you to Jomsborg?”
“Yea.”
“I will not permit it.”
“You will not permit it!” Ruby gasped aloud. “Since when did I hand over control of my life?”
“Hold thy tongue, wench, or leave the hall,” Hrolf told her.
“She has a say in this,” Thork contended. The warm look he gave her showed his obvious pleasure in her having stood up to her imposing relative.