Gyda laid her wood ladle down and looked Ruby directly in the eye. “What did they tell you not to discuss?” It seemed Gyda was not quite the obedient wife she would have everyone believe.
“That I come from the future, the year nineteen hundred and ninety-four.”
“Sweet Jesus!” Gyda exclaimed and made the sign of the cross three times.
Ruby smiled. “I know it’s hard to believe. It’s hard for me to accept. Even harder to believe is the fact that I’m twenty years older in my other life, and Jack—that’s Thork’s other name—and I have been married for twenty years. Well, until he left me yesterday.”
Ruby blinked away the pain that that thought caused.
Gyda placed a hand on her arm and drew her to a private spot on the other side of the room. “Tell me,” Gyda encouraged.
When Ruby was done, Gyda pulled back. Of course, she didn’t believe her. How could she? But she loved a good gossip, and the story Ruby told her must have beat them all.
“Where is everyone anyhow?” Ruby asked, noticing the unusual quiet in the hall.
“Tyra and Tykir muck the horse and cow stalls in the barn. Astrid and Gunnha went with their father to the harbor where he takes care of Thork’s business. The others are picking vegetables and fruit with Tostig at the farm. Thork left last night.” She tilted her head quizzically. “Thork stayed until he was sure you were settled in.” Gyda was obviously surprised by his concern.
“Gyda, I don’t think I will ever be able to forgive Thork for locking me up the way he did.”
” ‘Twas deserved.”
“What? How can you, a woman, say such cruelty is fair?”
Gyda shook her head sadly. “You still do not understand, do you? Being man or woman has naught to do with Viking law. Or with a father protecting his own. ‘Tis the way of things.”
“Humph! Well, how about the way Olaf and Thork sold Gudrod?”
Gyda slanted a look of surprise at her. “Sold? Nay, the stupid thrall was given a second chance. He was sent to Ravenshire, though he deserved to be sold, if you ask me.”
“He wasn’t sold?” Ruby asked with amazement. “I wonder why Thork didn’t tell me.” Ruby thought of something else then. “Gyda, you didn’t beat Tyra and Tykir for going with me, did you?” Ruby asked with concern.
“Nay. At least not with a whip. But their bottoms I warmed with the palm of my hand, and I can wield a heavy arm when need be. They did not sit comfortably for a day.”
Gyda raised her chin defiantly, daring Ruby to challenge her punishment, then added, “Viking children do not misbehave without suffering the consequences. Surrounded we are by enemies. We cannot watch our young constantly. They must learn at a young age to obey all orders without question.”
Ruby bit her bottom lip guiltily, realizing that her carelessness had somehow endangered the children. How would she have felt if some stranger had taken her children off without permission when they were only five and eight years old? Ruby decided that she had much to ponder.
“Can I help you?” Ruby asked then, and spent the rest of the morning in pleasant domestic duties, finally ending in the cold cellar under the house which they entered by a slanted wood door outside. Gyda displayed well-earned pride as she showed Ruby her neatly arranged shelves fairly creaking with crocks and covered wooden vats filled with pickles, vegetables, jams, honey, mead and wine. Onions and apples filled several of the bins. Salted and dried meats and vegetables hung from hooks in the ceiling.
Gyda told of her busy schedule coming up when the remainder of the summer vegetable garden and the orchard would be harvested and preserved for the coming winter.
“I get great gratification from performing these homely tasks,” Gyda confided shyly, checking one of the vats of cheese for mold. “I like knowing the things I do help my family to survive, just as Olaf provides for our other needs.”
Ruby smiled, trying to remember when she’d last felt like that. She was proud of her career, but this was a different kind of immediate self-satisfaction that Gyda referred to.