d to the heavens, his arms outstretched. ‘Aye, Odin All-Father, test me!’
“Then he leapt from the longboat to the nearest ice floe. He was smiling, then laughing. He shouted back to his men, ‘Be not afraid, for I am not the fool I was before! Aye, I was vainglorious and thought not of myself as a man who could be hurt and could die. Trust me and know that Odin is testing my brain this time, and not my strength. Throw me the thickest of the otter furs!”’
There was a huge collective sigh of relief. Merrik nodded, and grinned at her.
“Grunlige shredded the ice floe, flinging the shards of ice wildly into the waters until, once again, nothing remained but slivers that wouldn’t hurt a fish. He climbed back over into the longboat. He said, ‘This is why I wanted so many furs trapped. I knew I would need them. I have demolished at least thirty of our stoutest furs in this battle. Aye, listen now closely, for I must speak softly. I didn’t tell Odin what I planned, for I guessed it was my wits he doubted and wanted to test.’
“He then stared toward the sky. ‘Have I gained your favor again, Odin?’
“There was a huge bolt of lightning that struck the center of the huge ice field that floated just off to the east. The ice field exploded, flinging shards of ice high into the air, causing the waves to swell and rock the longboat from side to side. The men fell to their knees, in fear and in awe.
“When they returned to Norway, Grunlige saw his wife and hurried to her. He held out his hands to her and said, ‘I am not the fool you believed me to be. I am home and I am a man with new humility.’
“There was much rejoicing, until suddenly silence fell and all looked toward the open doorway of the longhouse. There stood Parma, and he was smiling. ‘Do you come back with blackened claws again, Grunlige?’ he yelled into the chamber. ‘Come here and I will slay you this time and I will cut out your guts and throw them to the gulls that fly close to the shore.’
“It was Selina who answered, saying, ‘Parma, you have heard aright. Grunlige is no more. This is his spirit, come to bid us all farewell. Come here and you will see what you have wrought with your guile and your cunning.’
“Parma swaggered through the chamber until he reached Grunlige. He stared at the warrior’s hands, whole and strong and hard. He stared into Grunlige’s face. He saw the truth and knew himself doomed. He paled and turned to run.
“Suddenly, a sword appeared in Grunlige’s hand, a mighty sword of steel so bright and shiny that all would swear later that it was Odin’s visage all could see in its reflection. Grunlige raised the sword slowly, in both his hands, high over his head. He smiled even as he lowered it, slowly, so very slowly, cleaving Parma’s head into two halves, continuing downward until Parma was cut into two equal parts, each teetering, each searching for the other, for life that could no longer be. The parts fell to the earth. Oddly, no blood spurted from the severed body, no blood at all.
“All looked down, but there was naught but the two halves and they were empty. There was nothing at all inside the halves. The men pulled back in fear and consternation. They begged Grunlige to tell them what had occurred. Grunlige cried, ‘I have smote the demon sent to test me, to strangle me with his fear.’ He turned to his wife and said, ‘He was Parma before he came into this chamber, but then Odin removed him and threw him into a coward’s oblivion. He put the demon of air in his place. It is over now. There is no more.’
“There followed abundant good fortune for Grunlige the Dane and his children and his children’s children. Each generation knew of his valor and his wisdom, and the tale was repeated so often that after many years it passed into legend and then into myth. But it is said that his progeny still live here in Norway—where, no one is certain. But you will believe it is a fact, if, on a stormy night, you listen very carefully, then you will hear the thunder boom out his name and know that Odin All-Father never forgot his warrior who was true to his honor and true to him, the god of all gods.”
Laren stopped. She stood silent, her head down. She didn’t look up when the cheering began nor did she move when the silver coins struck the ground at her feet.
A silver piece hit her toe and she felt nearly giddy with the joy of it. She kept her head down. She didn’t want any of them to see the sheer hope in her expression, and she knew that if anyone saw it and understood it, it would be Merrik.
Not many minutes later Merrik took her with him to his sleeping chamber. He did it in full sight of the Thoragassons and the girl Letta. He left Taby with Cleve, telling him to put him to bed with all the other children when he had tired of listening to the child chatter on and on about Grunlige and how very wise he was. As if he were a real man who really lived, Merrik thought, and then realized that he himself had considered Grunlige to be as real as he was himself. Perhaps he had lived, perhaps Laren had been told of him, perhaps . . .
When he lay beside Laren, unmoving, he said, “You did well.”
She thanked him, then drew a deep breath. “I would ask you something, Merrik.”
“Aye?”
“How much did you pay for Taby at the slave market?”
He stiffened. She believed him stupid, curse her, believed him so stupid that he wouldn’t remember all the silver pieces she’d been given since she’d begun her storytelling. He wondered how many pieces she’d collected now. There had been at least twenty pieces at her feet after she’d finished her tale this evening, twenty pieces of silver and two heavy silver armlets, one from Olaf Thoragasson himself.
“I paid fifty pieces of silver for him.”
He heard her cry of distress, but he did nothing, merely asked, “Why do you care? I would pay even more for Taby. He is worth a great deal to me.”
She said nothing, indeed words, for the moment, were beyond her. She saw her dreams sinking swiftly into the raging current of the North Sea.
Merrik chuckled. “Taby told me again this afternoon that he was a prince. He stuck his chin in the air and all but strutted when he said it.”
Utter silence. That was odd, he thought. Surely she should at least laugh or say something about Taby’s imagination.
“He told me he would allow me to continue taking care of him. Then he ruined his princely image by jumping at me and winding his arms around my neck. I nearly dropped him, for I was sharpening a scythe we will be using soon in the barley field.”
He heard her breathing, sharp and shallow. He said easily, “The meal you prepared was beyond anything our people have ever eaten. I imagine that Thoragasson, when he discovers who added girth to his belly this evening, will want to buy you. Just imagine, Laren, he would gain both a cook and a skald.” He paused a moment, then added, “Your value rises with each passing day.”
“And I am your concubine.”
“Aye, that too. I doubt there is much envy there, for you are still too skinny.”