Page 87 of The Reluctant Viking

“It could go either way.” He shrugged. “Depends on the mood of the jarls—or Sigtrygg. Need I warn you to behave yourself until then?

Ruby shook her head. Thork looked as if he wanted to say more, then thought better of it before he turned and walked away to join his friends.

First the assembly discussed King Athelstan’s proposal that King Sigtrygg marry his sister. Sigtrygg stood, an impressive sight in a jewel-studded purple tunic and a gold circlet around his forehead denoting his rank. “Good people, I would announce my betrothal to the Saxon sister of King Athelstan.”

A murmur of protest arose in the crowd.

“Nay, think not that I wish this joining, but I have been convinced ’twould be in the best interest of all Vikings in Northumbria.” Sigtrygg looked pointedly at Thork in the front row. He went on to discuss all the advantages that Thork had mentioned at the castle the first night Ruby had arrived in Jorvik.

The assembly decided that a representative of the king should attend Athelstan’s coronation ceremony on the fourth of September at Kingston, where a date would be set with Athelstan for a fall meeting between the two kings and a January wedding at Tamworth.

Then the Thing moved on to the routine business of settling legal disputes—everything from disagreements over property lines to murder. Ruby sat fascinated for hours, even after Aud went back to the tent to rest.

Each time a new case came up, the law speaker outlined the charges or the dispute to the panel on the platform, loud enough so that all could hear. Each side brought their supporters or witnesses with them. They faced each other, with the law speaker acting as arbiter, fielding questions from the king and jarls, as well as freemen in the assembly. Questions were decided on a final vote, not by a ballot or voice vote, but by vapnatak, the rattle of weapons.

Most of the fines were paid in a complicated system of wergild, a person’s worth measured in silver or wool or cows. If a slave had been murdered, the wergild to be paid would be less than for a hesir. For raiding a neighbor’s lands, a Viking could be outlawed, which meant exile from the territory and forfeiture of lands and belongings. Anyone could kill that man with impunity if he stayed.

“Do you enjoy our Thing?” Byrnhil asked, sliding down onto the grass next to Ruby.

“Byrnhil! How wonderful to see you again!”

The king’s mistress wore a spectacular red silk, full-length tunic, her attire more suited to a palace than an outdoor event. Gold bracelets and brooches studded with rubies and emeralds flashed in the sunlight, and she had a narrow gold circlet on her forehead, like a queen.

“This is fascinating,” Ruby said. “I can’t believe the Vikings have such an intricate justice system.”

“We Vikings have always had a great respect for laws. Why would you think otherwise?”

Ruby smiled, ignoring her question, and put her arm around Byrnhil’s shoulders. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed her friend. “Have you been jogging lately?”

“Yea, I have, and now travel twice as far each morning as we did afore.”

“Four miles! Not bad!”

“’Tis strange. I get this wonderful feeling when I run, almost like the intoxication from fine wine. I cannot see why more people do not do this exercise.”

“Endorphins,” Ruby informed her on a giggle. “It’s called a jogger’s high.”

Byrnhil smiled at Ruby’s strange words and asked her to join her for the midday meal. Vigi, of course, followed them. As they walked, Ruby feasted her eyes on all the sights. Servants roasted whole pigs and deer over open fires. In one massive, wood-lined pit, thralls dropped chunks of meat, juniper berries, mustard seeds, garlic and other herbs into water kept boiling with hot stones—a primitive form of slow cooking. Men roped off areas for the evening’s competitions—weightlifting, wrestling, stallion fighting, races and games of skill, like archery, spear throwing and swordplay.

Craftsmen and merchants set up tables in front of their tents to sell their wares. She and Byrnhil stopped repeatedly to look and touch—everything from carved ivory combs to silk scarves from the Orient to the much-valued amber beads.

“What do you think will happen to me at the Thing?” Ruby finally asked. She and Byrnhil sat on elaborately carved chairs inside a large tent set up for Sigtrygg near the edge of the clearing.

“I doubt the assembly would order your killing unless someone has come up with some evidence to prove you do spy.” She scrutinized Ruby’s face for hidden answers. “’Tis a most grievous offense, to be proven a spy. Then no one could save you.”

Later, when Ruby and Vigi returned to their tent area, they saw that the men had already returned from the Thing. Thork, Dar, Selik, the two boys and a dozen hesirs were gathering linens, soap and changes of clothing to take to the stream where they would bathe before the evening meal and entertainment.

Selik started to walk toward Ruby, but Thork grabbed him by the neck and pulled him along with the men.

“Odin’s spit, you will break my neck,” Selik grumbled.

“Better that than another part of your body.”

Selik looked back at Ruby over his shoulders and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Act your age,” Thork barked at him.

When they were gone, she and Aud exchanged glances.