THE RELUCTANT VIKING By Sandra Hill

The stunned Rhoda-person looked behind her to see whom Ruby addressed, then stepped backward in fright as she realized—it was the strange woman from the docks talking to her. “My name… my name be Ella,” she sputtered out. “Why do you address me by that other name?”

Ruby hugged the shocked thrall, who backed farther away, and said, “You look like my cleaning lady Rhoda. I’m sorry if I’ve frightened you. It’s just so good to see someone from home… well, someone I thought was from my home.”

“Cleaning lady?” Ella whimpered weakly.

“The woman who cleaned my house two days a week.”

” ‘Twould seem a poor household, indeed, what only has one thrall to keep it clean,” Ella muttered. “Do you not have a cook and stableboy, as well, and bonders to till yer fields?”

Ruby smiled.

“No, I mostly do my own cooking, and we have no horses that would require a stableboy.”

Ella eyed her dubiously, obviously thinking her not the high-born lady she’d been led to believe from Ruby’s claims of ties to the Duke of Normandy.

Ruby saw Aud, with a huge ring of keys hanging from a circular brooch at her shoulder, enter a door which led to what seemed to be a weaving room. She gave Ella another quick hug and told her, “We’ll talk later.”

She followed Aud into the room where an eight-foot-high loom with soapstone weights took up most of one wall. Huge baskets held shorn wool, and spinning wheels stood ready with their spindles for making the celebrated Yorkshire yarn.

“Good mom,” Aud greeted her. “Have you broken fast?”

“Yes, and was about to explore your home a little if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. Chores I have pressing me now, or I would accompany you, but mayhap if you would seek out Linette she would give you the tour. Her chamber is the last on the right, at the end of the main hall on the second floor.”

“Perhaps I will.” Not bloody likely! “Where is everyone?”

“The women are still abed. The men have been up since dawn, out with the two prisoners, I warrant.”

Ruby departed, going upstairs first to get a shoulder mantle for her dress. The crisp morning air chilled her, as much as Aud’s reference to the prisoners and Ruby’s too-vivid image of their probable fate.

After emerging from her room, Ruby’s curiosity drew her to the end of the hall where Linette’s door stood slightly ajar. She would just peek in a little, Ruby told herself, but when she saw it was empty, she stepped boldly inside. Apparently the manor was not so crowed that the fair Linette could not have a chamber to herself, one four times as big as the cubicle she and the three girls shared.

And opulent! A soft Oriental carpet covered the cold rushes, and lightly colored embroidered tapestries brightened the stark walls. A canopied bed held center stage on a short raised platform, with rich handwoven hangings ready to enclose her when she slept. Beautiful dresses, mantles and hose lay about in disarray.

Ruby decided she’d better make a quick exit before she was caught snooping. But then she chanced to look out the small, glassless window that overlooked the courtyard.

Her mouth opened to scream, but no sound emerged.

Ruby saw the two prisoners lying in the courtyard near the gatehouse, blood pouring in streams from the gaping sword wounds in their backs.

Slapping a palm in horror over her mouth to stifle her screams, she noticed Thork and Olaf standing dispassionately with short swords in their hands, while one of the prisoners was still screaming out his death throes.

Ruby couldn’t bear to watch this cruelty and fled blindly from the room. Heading toward her sleeping chamber, Ruby staggered, losing her way in the misty shroud of her tears.

Thork had killed a man with his own hands! His sword dripped another human being’s blood—not in the heat of self-defense, but cold, emotionless rage.

She didn’t know this man! How could she have thought she did?

Ruby pushed open the next door, thinking it was hers, and immediately saw her mistake. A naked Linette lay sleeping in the middle of a massive bed. The room was as large as Linette’s but starkly masculine with heavy carved bedstead, chests and chairs before a cold fireplace.

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