Page 75 of A Tale of Two Vikings

Toste started to laugh behind his gag and couldn’t stop. Not even when tears rolled from his eyes. Esme had won this battle, but she’d best beware. This war was far from over.

Chapter Ten

Brother, where art thou?…

Vagn was dreaming. He knew he must be dreaming. And yet the picture behind his eyelids was so vivid.

He was lying on a bed. Correction: His brother Toste was lying on a bed. And he was spread-eagled, bare-arse naked, tied to the bed posts.

Is someone trying to make my brother wed, just as Gorm restrained me in hopes of a forced marriage to his daughter Helga?

Do people wed in the Other World?

He would be worried about Toste and whatever torture was about to be inflicted on him, except that his brother was laughing uproariously at his predicament. And Vagn saw a woman’s form in the shadows. Was there ever a man’s predicament in which a woman wasn’t involved? It was the same black-haired witch he’d seen before, the one who turned his brother hard with lust.

It was all so confusing. First he’d seen images of his brother being picked at by black crows. Then he’d thought his brother kissed a nun. Now he seemed to be involved in bondage, and laughing about it. What could it mean? One thing was for sure: Valhalla, or heaven, for that matter, was not all it was cracked up to be…if that was indeed where Toste resided now.

Where art thou, brother?

How can you speak to me from the Other Side?

Is there a reason you keep calling to me?

Dost need my help?

When Vagn awakened, he found his face wet with tears.

Well, he thought grimly as he dressed for the day ahead and noticed through the arrow slit window that it was snowing again, much as I would like to help you, brother, I have my own torture to take care of.

Since when do Vikings sit back twiddling their thumbs, and other body parts, whilst others take the offensive?

Since when do Viking men allow their women to rule the roost?

Since when do Viking men let their women do more outrageous things than they do?

Enough!

Today was the day Vagn Ivarsson was going to show Helga the Temptress that her tempting days were over.

Cosmo, where art thou?…

Helga was running out of ideas.

In fact, she was running, period. She’d seen the glint in Vagn’s eyes this morning when he was breaking fast with her father’s guardsmen and it said, loud and clear: Helga, you’d best run for your life. There is one mad Viking out for your tail.

Even Helga recognized that the candle incident went beyond what was proper into the realm of the scandalous. Perchance even the perverted. How would she know? She’d never even heard of perversions till a few days ago.

“Greetings, Helga,” a male voice said.

She almost jumped out of her skin. She was sorting embroidery threads in the rear of her sewing solar, out of view from the door…or so she had thought. But fortunately, it wasn’t Vagn. It was Finn Finehair.

“Greetings, Finn,” she replied as he came closer. His mustache was looking particularly fine today and he’d forked his beard. What was the occasion?

Uh-oh! He was gazing at her the way Vagn did on occasion. With hunger.

At first, he just leered down at her, twirling one side of his mustache with his fingertips. Did he have any idea how ridiculous he looked? Apparently not.

“Wouldst like to sit next to me tonight at dinner?” he asked, still leering.