“Ivar? Who the hell is Ivar?”
“You dare much with your coarse tongue, boy.”
“Jack, don’t you recognize me? I’m Ruby… your wife.”
“Nay, no wife have I,” he declared in a steely voice, shifting indignantly from foot to foot. “Nor am I a sodomite,” he added distastefully, looking at what he obviously considered her masculine attire. Then he released her chin and cocked his head in puzzlement.
What now? she wondered. Was it something she’d said?
Olaf let her slide down his body to her feet, but he pulled her arms behind her back and pinioned them there. Jack stared at the inscription on her chest and his eyes widened. That stupid Brass Balls logo again!
Jack reached out a hand. His forefinger trailed sensuously over her bare arm as if asking a question, then grazed her quivering lips for affirmation. He smiled wickedly and nodded, as if answering his own question, at the same time pleased with the goose bumps he’d raised on her flesh with a mere touch.
Then her husband did the unthinkable. He reached out with lightning swiftness and outlined the tips of her breasts. He actually touched her breasts in front of all those people! She’d kill him for humiliating her. Outraged, Ruby tried to squirm out of Olaf’s grasp.
“Thor’s blood! ‘Tis a wench,” Jack exclaimed, turning with a grin to his companions for confirmation.
“No kidding! This has gone far enough, Jack. Tell this bozo to release me. This joke… or dream… or whatever it is has gone far enough. I want to go home.”
“Explain this ‘jack’ you speak of.”
“It’s your name, Jack. Jack Jordan. And I’m your wife, Ruby. And I’m tired of this stupid dream.”
Tears choked her. Why was Jack acting like this? Ruby squeezed her eyes shut tight. She would have pinched her own cheeks, but Olaf still held her arms behind her back; instead, she bit her bottom lip until she tasted blood, hoping to awaken herself from the nightmare.
It didn’t work.
Some members of the crowd stepped closer, staring in amazement at her bloody lip as if she were truly crazy. She was crazy! Only a crazy person would find herself in this situation. Perhaps Jack’s leaving her had pushed her over the edge.
“Nay, my name is Thork,” the Jack clone said. “Heed me well. No wife have I, nor ever want one. I am a Jomsviking.” Jack’s deep voice rang coldly, loud and clear, through the crowd, which nodded and smiled in approval at his putting this woman in her place.
The people spoke an odd mixture of what sounded like Medieval Anglo-Saxon she’d once heard in an English Lit course and what was probably Old Norse. The languages were very similar. Strangely, she could understand both. Not so strange for a dream, she supposed.
Before Ruby could respond to Jack’s astounding pronouncement, he stepped closer and his forefinger traced the letters on her shirt. He said the words aloud slowly, “Brass Balls,” looked questioningly at a man standing next to him, then back at her and grinned, apparently understanding what the words symbolized. Several men chuckled behind him. However, his amusement turned to anger again.
“So… you carry a message to us from Ivar that his men have superior male parts made of metal?” He spoke loud enough for all the people to hear. Good Lord! She’d landed in some kind of Bedlam.
“Know you the male parts of Ivar’s men from experience, wench?” he baited snidely.
“Shut up, Jack. You’re embarrassing me.”
He took hold of her sore chin and squeezed, looking her directly in the eye. “Thork. Mark my words well, wench. My name is Thork.”
Ruby whimpered in pain, but still he didn’t relent.
“Say it.”
When she refused, he squeezed harder, and Ruby gasped out, “Thork, you jerk! Thork! Thork!”
” ‘Jerk’ best be a title of respect,” he warned.
“Oh, yes, it means something like ‘lord and master.’ ”
Jack looked unconvinced but, nevertheless, released her chin and addressed the mob. “Ivar sends the boy-woman to challenge us, methinks. Yea, he taunts us to war again. Bad enough he raids our lands whilst we are gone a-Viking or trading. Now he sends this insulting message. Brass balls! Hah! Shall we show Ivar now and forever who the best men be?”