But Ruby’s laughter died now as Thork rode by her and gave no greeting. Encased in leggings, his muscular thighs guided his large horse expertly. He held his head high, with supreme self-confidence, but a tense muscle jumped in his stubbornly jutting jaw as he deliberately snubbed her.
Ruby wouldn’t have been surprised at his coldness after his tirade in Olaf’s hall yesterday if he hadn’t come to her room later and laughed about the scene at Sigtrygg’s palace. His hot, then cold, changes of emotion were driving her crazy.
Putting aside her hurt feelings, Ruby turned to Gyda. “I’m sorry for all the misery I’ve brought you, especially the way Olaf spoke to you.”
Gyda clucked her tongue at Ruby’s words. “I want naught of your apologies, girl. Leastways, I have not laughed so much in years, nor has Olaf or Thork, though ne’er would they admit it. Did Olaf and I mishear Thork in your room yestereve?”
Ruby told her about Thork’s account of the events at Sigtrygg’s court. When she ended, Gyda giggled with delight, then embellished the story with more from Olaf’s version of the court activities. “The funniest part was when they first arrived at the court, and Sigtrygg raged at them all, shoving this gray wrinkled thing into Thork’s hand, asking if he knew what the thing was.”
“Oh, no!”
Gyda laughed out loud now. “You will never guess what happened next. The thing Sigtrygg handed him—’twas Freydis’s condom, the one with red and gold embroidery, and, Ruby… ,” Gyda sputtered, having to stop to control her giggles, “oh, ’twas so funny. You see, Freydis had added tassels to the end.”
“No-o-o-o!” Ruby exclaimed.
Ruby rode back to help with the children. She couldn’t help but notice the dozen armed men flanking their traveling party at the sides and rear, with Thork, Dar and Olaf at the front. She tied her horse to the back of the cart and crawled into the straw with the children. For the next few hours, until they stopped to eat at midday and water the horses, Ruby had amused them with stories and catchy songs. The only children’s songs she could think of were Christmas carols, so the children’s voices on this sunny, late summer day rang out incongruously with “Jingle Bells” and “Deck the Hall with Boughs of Holly.”
Thork glanced her way several times as she, Gyda and the children sat on a large boulder eating their cold fare. Did he feel the bond between them? Even if he didn’t believe her stories of the future, of a life they shared together, surely he didn’t deny this instant chemistry that ignited every time they touched. But Thork’s blank face betrayed nothing of his feelings, and Ruby felt sadly forsaken—again.
They expected to be at Dar’s manor before nightfall, but the long, tiring journey had turned the travelers weary and listless by midafternoon. The fortunate Tyra slept soundly in one corner of the cart after hearing Ruby repeat the nursery rhyme about the old woman who lived in a shoe six times.
Everyone jolted out of their complacent lethargy with surprise when a group of six horsemen thundered out of the woods and headed off Dar, who rode with Selik near the end of the human train. The horsemen had to have been trailing them for a long time to have caught Dar at just that vulnerable moment when he’d left his grandson’s side at the head of the caravan.
“Move the women and children off the road,” Thork shouted anxiously to the tune of some vicious swear words directed at the hesirs who’d failed to see the enemy approaching. “Selik, stay here with Eirik and Tykir and guard the women.”
Grim-faced, Thork and Olaf galloped off with six of the men. For more than two hours, which seemed like days, Ruby wept and prayed and worried over Dar’s fate, as well as the safety of Thork and his men.
When the somber-countenanced party rode back into the hastily made camp, Ruby quickly counted. They’d all returned, including Dar—thank God!—who appeared unharmed, except for a grimy face, torn tunic and baggy hose.
In addition, two bloodied strangers rode in their midst, arms tied behind their backs, wearing pants and nothing more. Deep whip welts covered their bare backs and chests. A sword wound in one man’s shoulder bled profusely, and an enormous bruise swelled on the other man’s forehead. They had obviously been beaten after their capture to obtain information.