Gyda helped her slip the green silk dress over her head. As in Astrid’s gown, gold embroidery embellished the hem and sleeves and neck. Chunky gold, animal-shaped brooches fastened the shoulders of the open-sided garment. The twisted dragons had amber eyes. Probably worth a fortune, Ruby speculated.
“I couldn’t possibly wear anything so expensive. I’d be afraid of losing them.”
“Nay, be not afeard. Leastways, they belong to Thork.” Gyda pointed to a small wooden chest which lay open in the corner. Ruby examined the runic letters on the box, “Thokkr a Kistu Thasa.” On questioning, Gyda told her the words meant “Thork owns this casket.”
“Thork keeps some of his treasures here since he maintains no home of his own. He stores many others at his grandfather’s, as well.”
“Well, then, if they belong to Thork, I don’t mind. After all, he is my husband—sort of. Besides, he owes me, after treating me so badly.”
Pursing her lips, Gyda frowned at her reference to Thork as her husband. “They are only for loan, you understand.”
Sure.
Next, Gyda pulled a delicate gold belt from Thork’s box, which could be adjusted to size. In the center of the waist a matching dragon brooch was placed, similar to the shoulder ones, except this animal had larger amber eyes.
Elizabeth Taylor, eat your heart out, Ruby gloated. This Viking life-style might not be so bad, after all.
Meanwhile, Gyda clucked with dismay over the sorry state of Ruby’s figure. “Tsk, tsk! Do you come from poor folks that could not feed you? Fair skin and bones you are.” Gyda nipped and tucked quickly with thread and the precious needle she kept in a tiny cylindrical box which hung from her brooch at all times.
Ruby looked down at herself. Skin and bones? Not by a twentieth-century longshot! This slender body she now had was the modern feminine ideal, not Gyda’s slightly plump, definitely curvaceous frame.
“Give you a month of good, solid Viking fare and, to be sure, we will put more padding on those bones.”
Would she be here another month, for heaven’s sake? And if she were, Ruby determined, she wouldn’t allow these Vikings to tamper with this Raquel Welch figure she’d been fortunate enough to land in, and turn it into a Rubensesque caricature.
They rode horses to the palace, even though it was a short distance, to protect their soft leather shoes and the hems of their gowns, which trailed fashionably on the ground in back. The three females rode sideways, as was the custom—not an easy feat for Ruby, who held on to her horse’s mane for dear life.
The overwhelming din of conversation and laughter from the hundreds of finely dressed men and women greeted them on entering the Norse palace. Olaf pointed out to her the parts of the building that remained of the ancient Roman city Eboracum, and those architectural touches which were clearly Nordic additions, such as the intricate carvings and runic messages on the eaves and woodwork.
“Is this feast being held for any special occasion?” Ruby asked Gyda.
“Yea. A man arrived from Athelstan with the formal marriage documents. We celebrate the official betrothal.”
Ruby followed Olaf’s family to a table close to the dais where Thork sat with the king and a dozen or more privileged guests. Unlike in the lower area, fine linen cloths and heavy silver graced the tables.
Resplendent in a midnight-blue tunic with silver braiding over coal-black leggings, Thork epitomized the noble Viking knight. He sipped his drink languidly, looking totally bored. Each time he raised his cup to drink, thick silver bracelets on his upper arms flashed in the reflection of oil lamps and torches scattered around the hall. A round, jewel-encrusted disc hung down to his chest from a heavy silver neck chain.
His blond hair still hung past his shoulders, but he’d pushed it behind one ear where an… Oh, my God!… an earring hung in the shape of a thunderbolt. Her husband Jack would never in a million years have worn an earring, but on Thork it fit, enhancing his masculinity, accentuating the pirate, rebel image he exuded.
Ruby wondered if she’d ever be able to talk Jack into an earring. She delighted in picturing Jack in a conservative pin-striped suit and a thunderbolt earring. She loved it!