Page 7 of My Fair Viking

He gasped.

And throbbed some more. Good thing he wore the loose Arab robe he favored when in his own home, or he would embarrass himself.

Under his breath, Rashid murmured in Arabic, "On the other hand…"

Adam arched an eyebrow in question.

"On the other hand, yon man-woman might make a magnificent harem houri. Dost think she would consent to wearing pierced bells on her breasts.?"

"Shhhhh," Adam cautioned, then added, also in Arabic, "It would be more likely she would pierce your balls with bells, my friend. This is no tame desert damsel, eager to please her master."

Eyes of cerulean blue pierced them both, almost as if she understood their words. Her men snickered under their collective breaths.

"Which of you is the healer?" she asked, speaking for the first time.

Her voice was deep and husky, but not at all manlike. Nay, Adam could imagine that voice whispering wicked things to a man when they were both stoked to passion.

He could imagine it suggesting ways to cure the pleasure-pain that continued to envelop his loins. He could imagine—

"Well?" she interrupted his reverie. "Enough time have I wasted, traipsing across this wretched land. Which of you is the healer I have been searching for?"

He and Rashid exchanged a long look, not sure if either of them wanted to be the subject of her search. Finally, Adam admitted, "I was… am… Adam the Healer."

Rashid piped in, "And I am Ibn Rashid al Mustafa. Your humble servant." He performed a peculiar obsequious bow native to his country, involving the rapid touching of his forehead, nose, mouth, and heart.

"I have been trained as a physician," Adam continued, "but I no longer treat patients. Perchance I could recommend another doctor for you… there are several monk healers in St. Peter's ministerium at Jorvik. What exactly is your problem?"

"It's not my problem that causes me to seek you out," she explained, the whole while motioning with hand gestures to Emma and Bridget that they should provide drink for her men who were sitting down at the long trestle tables. Adam should have been embarrassed at not offering the hospitality himself, but he was too confused by this woman and her mission. " 'Tis my father, King Thorvald of Stoneheim, who needs your help. He is gravely ill of an unknown malady. Dost know of him?"

Adam shook his head slowly.

"He is called Thorvald the Wolf."

"Aaaah. Now I recall. His kingdom is in far northern Norway… Halogaland." Adam's stepuncle Tykir lived in Dragonstead, at the end of beyond in Norway. Men had body parts frozen off there if they were careless enough to venture outdoors overlong during the winter months. Stoneheim was even farther north, in the most primitive, mountainous area… a land nigh uninhabitable.

She nodded. "How long will it take you to pack your medicinal supplies?"

"I beg your pardon, m'lady… I mean…" He paused meaningfully, not knowing her name. If this woman, magnificent as she is, thinks I am going anywhere near the frigid mountains of that godforsaken section of Norway, she is sadly mistaken.

"Tyra. Tyra Sigrundottir. Tyra, Cub of the Wolf. Tyra First Child. Tyra the Blonde. Tyra Brave One." She shrugged as if to say she would answer to any of those appellations.

"Or Tyra Warrior Princess," he offered, half in jest.

To his surprise, she agreed. "That, too." And she didn't even smile as she said it. Of a certainty, the woman was full of herself, and lacking in humor.

But her ego was of no consequence. He, and an important part of his body, thought she was glorious. Especially since she had not scratched herself again… thanks be to God! If she belched or did something else of a distasteful masculine nature, he might just cry with disappointment.

"In any case, Tyra, I regret to inform you that I cannot help your father. I have not practiced the healing arts these past few years. When, or if, I resume treating patients again, it will be here in Britain. My traveling days are over. Under no circumstances would I be willing to go so far."

She made a scoffing noise. "I do not recall asking you to come. You will come, of that there is no question."

He raised himself to his full height, which was more than considerable, and fixed her with a glower. "I will not."

Tyra rolled her eyes as if to say, Here we go again!

Some of her men sniggered and began to talk amongst themselves. He understood the Norse tongue perfectly. These sea pirates were placing bets… against him in this battle of wills.

"Uh-oh," Rashid said and danced quickly away from his side.