“Huh?” Thork and Sigtrygg both exclaimed. And the blasted crowd started its murmuring again. But Ruby saw Olaf give her a mock salute, then smile at her with a wink of encouragement. Geez! She was starting to like the brute.
“Explain yourself, wench, and no more lies,” Sigtrygg said, taking hold of her chin which still ached from Thork’s manhandling.
“My grandfather about fifty times removed is the Viking Hrolf, first Duke of Normandy.” She frowned in thought before adding, “I believe the Saxons call him Rollo.”
A loud gasp at her outrageous declaration went through the hall. Thork’s face reddened, and he looked as if he’d like to strangle her.
A stunned Sigtrygg questioned, “Claim you to be the granddaughter of our ally, Hrolf?”
Obviously, he hadn’t heard the “fifty times removed” part. Ruby started to correct him, then remembered his admonition not to tell him she came from the future. Instead, she said, with fingers crossed for luck, “Yes, I’m a direct descendant of Gongu-hrolfr,” using his full Nordic name, “The Marcher.”
Ruby looked at Olaf and he nodded his approval. So far, so good.
“Know you that Hrolf and my father are allies?” a doubting Thork inquired.
Sensing that he sought to trick her, Ruby replied, “No, that’s not true. Hrolf’s father, Earl Rognvald of More, was Harald’s best friend, but King Harald declared Hrolf an outlaw and exiled him from Norway.”
Ruby’s hopes soared at the uncertainty in Sigtrygg’s eye, but plummeted when Thork declared vehemently, ” ‘Tis ridiculous! She is no more a Viking than… than I am a Saxon. She bloody well lies.”
“Mayhap,” Sigtrygg answered hesitantly, biting his bottom lip thoughtfully. Then he suddenly seemed bored with the whole subject. “What say you, Thork? You decide. Do you torture her secrets from her? Or will you decapitate her and send the head to Ivar in the garment as a warning?”
“Me?” Thork swore a blue streak and told Sigtrygg, ” ‘Tis my first night back in Jorvik in two years. The bloody wench is not my responsibility.”
“Oh,” Sigtrygg said smoothly, “methought she arrived on one of your ships.”
” ‘Tis not proven.”
” ‘Tis not disproven.” Displeasure edged the king’s voice. Sigtrygg’s mood had swung again—to the down side.
Olaf stepped forward to address the king. “What if she really is kin to Hrolf? Should we not be sure? Have we not enough trouble with the Saxons without calling such a powerful man down on us? Can we afford to offend our friends?”
Right! Ruby raised thankful eyes to Olaf. Then she turned to Thork, whose thin lips reflected his irritation over Olaf’s interference. She mouthed silently, “Traitor.”
His jaw tightened but he said nothing. Apparently her earlier comment about his sons still rankled, as well as his unwelcome attraction to her.
Ruby vowed that Thork would pay for deserting her like this. Deserting her! Hah! Just like Jack, Ruby thought. She had no time to pursue this line of logic, though, because Sigtrygg was roaring like an angry mountain lion again.
“Quiet!” he shouted over the loud hum of dissenting voices in the hall. “Enough!”
When absolute silence overtook the cavernous room, he proclaimed, “The thrall’s fate will be decided at the Althing next month. In the meantime, I place her in the able care of Thork Haraldsson.”
Sigtrygg stared stonily at Thork, daring him to disagree.
“Guard her carefully, Thork,” Sigtrygg continued, “but treat her with the respect due Hrolf’s granddaughter—just in case her story be true.”
Granddaughter! She’d never said “granddaughter.” Oh, well! A moot point, really. Hopefully, she’d wake up before she ever had to prove her case.
She would wake up soon, wouldn’t she?
People dispersed into milling groups throughout the hall, and the Viking men chugged down huge draughts of ale, Thork included. Thork’s eyes pierced her over the rim of his drinking horn, warning her of a future reckoning. Then he motioned to Olaf, who handed Ruby her clothes and shoes.
“We will take the wench to your home where I yearn to see my…” Thork’s words to Olaf trailed off as the two men exchanged guarded looks. “I will give you an hour or two to show your wife how much you have missed her,” Thork continued with a lascivious grin. “Then we must return to the harbor to oversee the ships’ unloading.”