Page 48 of The Caged Viking

He gazed at her with horror. “Let us hope that won’t become necessary.”

Once Egil returned, lugging a pail of steaming water, Hauk ordered him to go off and find some “loot” for Bjorn. He explained about Bjorn’s ramblings over war plunder every time he became lucid.

Kirstin made tsking sounds at the mention of loot and plunder, but she immediately began to cleanse Bjorn’s stomach, especially the wound itself which she said might have debris from the sword…dirt, other people’s blood, and something called back-tier-yah. Bjorn flinched at the ministrations but did not wake up.

Hauk went off to search for a needle and thread, which he found in a nearby room, and a small pottery container of whiskey in the castellan’s private chest of treasures, but there was also an especially welcome prize…a small vial of poppy juice, which he recognized by its milky white appearance and strong scent. If he’d been unsure of his deduction, the vial had two poppy flowers painted on it, with their distinctive black dots denoting seeds. He brought the whole chest with him in hopes of satisfying at least some of Bjorn’s yearning for loot. He also stopped by the kitchen storeroom and grabbed a honeycomb wrapped in waxed parchment, an item overlooked thus far by the “looters” more interested in valuables. When he returned, Kirstin was laying out strips of white linen on the bed, preparatory to closing the wound.

To his surprise, she did not give the whiskey to Bjorn to drink, but instead she spread the liquid all over his skin from neck to groin. At the end, she did try to get some in Bjorn’s mouth, but most of it dribbled out. Only then did she insert only a single drop of the poppy juice onto his tongue with a warning to Hauk, “It’s important that we only give him a tiny amount at a time, and that we don’t continue it for a long time. What you call poppy juice is pretty much pure opium, and it’s highly addictive.”

Like Hauk didn’t already know that! He was aware of several Vikings who’d traveled to eastern lands and came back good for nigh nothing except lying about on their bed furs in a daze. Same thing…addiction…happened to those fool enough to love their ale more than life itself. “I hope Bjorn lives long enough for addiction to become an issue,” he muttered.

“You’re right,” she conceded, patting him on the arm. “Still, we should be careful.”

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked once she’d threaded the thick needle…a tapestry needle, according to Kirstin, and inhaled deeply for strength.

“No, have you?”

He shook his head, then noticed how pale she was looking. “I’ll do it,” he said. “You can catch me if I faint.”

She smiled at his weak attempt at humor.

He leaned forward and took her face between his two hands. “Just so you know, I appreciate all you are doing.” He kissed her then, lightly, but with all the emotion he was holding in. He could tell that she was equally affected. First chance he got, he was going to tup her until her eyes rolled back in her head. A good way to sever this odd attraction betwixt them, he decided. It was distracting, to say the least. Besides, he had not had nearly enough of her the one night they’d made love.

“Maybe this is why I was sent back in time…to save Bjorn, not to save you,” she mused.

Hauk still wasn’t buying her barmy theories, but he conceded, “Mayhap you were sent to save us both.” And to tup me.

He began the stitching then. Viking men knew how to sew, or at least the rudiments, often having to mend sails on their longships. Hauk’s sutures were rough but sufficient to hold the flaps of flesh together. The scar would be impressive enough for Bjorn to brag on, assuming he survived this ordeal, please gods.

Bjorn awakened with a scream of pain at the first piercing of skin with the needle. Then he fell back, unconscious again. At least he wasn’t babbling about loot. Hauk worked quickly to complete the task, fearing he might have to vomit at any minute. He was suffering almost as much as his son.

Kirstin cleaned the whole area again with a cloth dipped in the pail of water and wrung out, followed by a whiskey wash over the wound section. After that, the two of them worked to bind the wound with strips of linen wrapped all around his body, over and under.

When they were done, Hauk dropped down into the rushes and leaned back against the wall, his legs outstretched. Bone-weary from lack of sleep, the battle, and the stress over Bjorn, Hauk inhaled and exhaled with relief. “I need to rest for a few minutes,” he told Kirstin. “Can you watch over Bjorn if I should doze off?”

“Of course,” she said, looking at him with concern. “Maybe you should go off and find a bed somewhere.”

“Nay. This is sufficient.”

“Well, relax for now. Bjorn seems to be sleeping normally. If he doesn’t get an infection, there’s a good chance he’ll survive. In my opinion.”

“Thank you,” he said, then yawned widely.

While she had the needle and thread, she decided to repair her ripped undergarment…what she called pant-hes. Hauk watched with interest while she sewed. A rough job with the thick black thread against the white silky fabric. “At least, my privates will be private again,” she told him.

Hauk sighed as he nestled lower against the wall, and, wondered how soon he could explore those privates again. Just before he fell asleep, he murmured, “I’m glad you’re here, Kirstin. I’m glad you’re my wife.” He wasn’t sure if he’d spoken aloud or just thought those words. In any case, I’ll thank you later, in my own way. Ha, ha. Everything went gray and then black as he fell fast asleep.

A thought swam through his dream-state, Only the Norns of Fate know what will happen now. It’s in the hands of the gods.

Ironically, another voice in his head laughed and said, The One-God guides thy destiny now, Viking. Pray!

Good idea! Hauk decided to pray to all the gods, and at the same time, there was a plan forming in the back of Hauk’s mind. He was very good at making plans. Gods bless this particular plan!

Uh-hum! the voice in his head piped in.

I mean, God bless this particular plan.

That is better.