Viking Love Beyond Time (Time Travel Romance) (68 page)

             
Alodie and Herger had kissed the children goodbye whilst they were still asleep, both of them blinking back a tear, before giving Anstice and Maudya final, hurried, instructions.  Then throwing on their travelling clothes and packing clean linen they quickly loaded the horses and set off into the misty darkness.

             
Magnus led them through a towering wooden gate set in grey stone Roman walls into the strongest and indeed one of the oldest towns in the country, one day to be called York, the Eboracum of the Romans, the Eoforwick of the Saxons and now the Jorvik of the Danes.  As she looked round Alodie noticed the similarity to
Winchester
, in particular the smell after the clear air of the moors.  The odour of the fishmonger mixing with the rich aroma of the tannery, the earthy smell of the butcher mixing with the aromatic scent of the bakery and the noise - the shouting of the vendors, the hammering of the tin and silversmiths, the tapping of the shoemakers and above it all the sound of voices - the cries and laughter of the children, the scolding of the women and the low baritone mutter of the men, it was humanity at its most raw.  Yes, it was like Winchester but different too, nothing tangible, nothing that Alodie could bring to mind, but as they reached the king’s hall, twice the size of Alfred’s in Winchester, she realised what it was - confidence, lack of fear, these people could go through life without looking over their shoulders daily, terrified of a Viking invasion.  They held their heads higher than their southern counterparts, they were taller and stronger.  Whether it was genes, climate, diet or lack of fear Alodie had no idea.

             
Their horses were taken by several serfs who seemed to appear from nowhere and almost immediately they were hailed by a wizened, bobbing little major domo who had come scuttling down a long flight of steps.  “Milady Alodie is it?” he twittered, and at her nod he continued.  “At last, come with me straight away, my lord Halfdan is very sick”

             
She looked round for her husband.  He was standing at the back, amongst the men, dressed as a normal karl with a hood pulled over his head.  Alodie had to smile, despite her nervousness, he stood out from the rest of them like a lion amid a pack of jackals.

             
She turned and lifted her chin high, Magnus offered her his huge arm and, lifting the corner of her skirt in what she hoped was a ladylike manner, she mounted the steps and walked through the huge double doors.

             
The first thing that hit her was that Halfdan, bloodthirsty pagan savage that he undoubtedly was, kept a far more royal state than his counterpart in Wessex.  Rich tapestries hung from the walls, torches glittered in chased metal sconces and the table, which ran the length of the great hall, was covered with a thick velvet cloth and glittered with gold and silver.  Men at arms stood silently round the walls, the usual bearded blond and red headed giants and, to Alodie’s surprise, Negroes.  The fussy little major domo beckoned to her impatiently and Alodie followed him, some of her nervousness returning at the thought of meeting, if history was to be believed, one of the most terrifying and bloodthirsty warriors who ever lived, overtaken in legend only by his even more terrifying and bloodthirsty father, Ragnor Lodbrok.

             
He opened a small door in the wall at the far end of the hall and held up his hand.  “My lord Magnus” he announced, self importantly.  “You and the rest of the men must wait for the lady here, I promise she will come to no harm”.  Alodie swallowed and turning, smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile at Herger,  then ducking, went through.

             
Behind the door was a stair which was so small and narrow that Alodie realised the little major-domo’s veto was unnecessary.  A normal sized man could probably, with difficulty, pass up it.  Herger, especially with his sword and shield, would not be able to get past the third stair and Magnus would have not even managed to get through the door.

             
The overpowering smell of burning herbs assailed her before she was half way up the stair, the acrid taste in the air catching at the back of her throat, making her cough.  The little man turned to her and smiled apologetically.  “Comfrey, the only thing that seems to give my lord ease, that and elecampane root boiled” he gestured again, “come, my lady, we are here” he turned at the top of the stair and opened another small door then ducking, went through it.

             
The smell grew stronger as Alodie entered the room, and with a gasp, she straightened up.  They had come out into a large chamber by the side of a huge richly carved bed.  The pot of herbs was simmering just next to the door which accounted for the strong smell, but further into the room the steam grew less.

             
The major-domo walked to the bottom of the bed and bowed.  “My lord Halfdan” he said self importantly “As commanded, Alodie, the lady of Hergersby”

             
Alodie walked down the side of the bed purposely keeping her eyes on the floor until she reached the bottom then looking up she curtsied, giving an involuntary gasp as she did so.

             
The man in the bed had obviously once been tall and broad shouldered, now he was shrunken, his cheeks pulled in and his bones almost thrusting through his parchment like skin.  There were red sores round his mouth and his tongue, as it darted out to wet his lips, was almost white.  His hair, such as it was, was fair and sticking to his scalp in clumps, his eyes were red rimmed and the eyelashes thick with yellow matter.  He smiled, showing yellow teeth and dark gums.  “Ah” he croaked.  “I see rumour does not lie, you are truly fair my dear.  Two years ago, no, one, I would have had you on your back within five minutes of meeting you” he laughed and held up his arms.  “Now look at me my lady, I could not even put yon Skallagrim there on the floor” he waved his hand feebly at the major domo who bridled self consciously.  “However, my lady” he coughed horribly and spat bright red blood into a bucket by the side of the bed “it is obvious now that the Widow Maker has got his talons deep into my chest.  I understand from Olaf the Black that you are a sorceress greater than any in the land, and I ask you now, can you cure me?”  The exertion of getting out his words had brought perspiration to his forehead and he gasped for breath.

             
Alodie bit her bottom lip and feeling in her pocket dew out Herger’s bracelet, it would be quite safe for Halfdan to wear it without tampering with history, by the look of him it was most likely lung cancer, in a very advanced state, not tuberculosis at all, he was going to die within the next few days with or without the aid of autodoc.
 

             
She smiled timorously and approaching the bed lifted Halfdan’s skeletal wrist, His pulse was quick and thready.  “I cannot save you sir” she said quietly.  “no one can save you, not me nor the greatest sorcerer who ever lived.  Olaf, I think, exaggerated.”   She slipped the bracelet on his wrist. “This is the greatest magic I possess, it belongs to Herger, it has cured him from terrible wounds.  If I had been summoned two months, no six weeks ago, it would have cured you completely, as it is now it can give you strength and take away the pain if that will help.  You may feel a slight pricking sensation in your wrist, pay it no mind”. 

             
Halfdan smiled and patted her hand.  “Honest as well as beautiful, why did you not lie to me my pet?”

             
Alodie straightened her shoulders. “Because I can see you are a great king and warrior, not a child to be placated with lies and fantasies, no one can cure what you have sir, I think you know that”

             
Halfdan smiled again.  “I feel the pricking in my wrist milady” with difficulty he lifted up his arm and looked at the bracelet.  “This is a curious design, where did you get it?   It looks Saxon” he touched the green stone.

             
Alodie held up her hand “Do not touch the stones sire, it affects the - er properties of the bracelet and yes, it is Saxon” she held up her arm.  “I have its twin here.  My grandmother, who was one of the greatest healers who ever lived, caused them to be made and cast them about with charms and magic”

             
Halfdan grimaced and wriggled about in the bed.  “Do you know, my dear,  I am beginning to feel stronger already and I’m hungry, I haven’t been hungry for weeks.  You do not seem to be too downcast at the death of your husband milady”

             
The speed with which he changed tack almost took Alodie’s breath away.  She stammered and sat down abruptly.  He laughed.  “One does not rule over a nation of murdering cut throats for as long as I without being a good judge of character - he is not dead, is he?”

             
Alodie glanced at the major domo then back at Halfdan who jerked his thumb at the door.  “Skallagrim, out” he snapped.  The little man sniffed pointedly and left the room almost slamming the door behind him.

             
Alodie turned back to look at Halfdan, already there was more colour in his cheeks and his breathing seemed easier.  “Your bracelet is wondrous milady, the pain has almost stopped, now tell me of Herger, he is my friend, for all he is a Norwegian”

             
Alodie looked down.  She decided to trust Halfdan, he seemed honest, she found herself liking him despite his abruptness.  “As you correctly surmised, Herger is not dead, my lord, he is here with me, disguised as one of my warriors”

             
Halfdan nodded, “I see, why has he done this?”

             
“Because he wishes to challenge Olaf without Olaf being able to use his powers to weaken him”

             
Halfdan again wriggled and throwing back the covers he put his legs to the floor, wincing as he did so.  Alodie could not help but notice the ribs sticking out on his once powerful frame and his stick like legs.  “Pass me my robe, milady Alodie” he said, holding out his arm “I see you are not embarrassed by my nakedness”

             
“No, my lord, only sorry that so obviously great a warrior has been laid low with an illness that it is beyond the power of anyone to cure”

             
She picked up his robe, red velvet with golden embroidery, and handed it to him.  Slipping it round his shoulders he sat down on the chair Alodie had just vacated whilst she perched rather self consciously on the edge of the bed.

             
“Of course, the weakness Olaf inflicts on all his enemies” he reached out and picked up an apple, biting into it with relish.  “Carry on milady, I should imagine you are going to tell me that Herger is going to challenge Olaf tonight at the feast I am giving to celebrate my recovery”

             
Alodie looked up sharply.  “I told you my lord.........”

             
Halfdan held up his hand.  “I know, I am incurable.  However, it is not myself I am worried about.  My wife, the light of my life, died in childbed last December, I do not really care to live without her but I have a ten year old son Alodie, I am worried about the state of the kingdom and want nothing more than to see the back of Olaf.  I want him back in his fastness across the
North Sea
when I die, not hovering here like a carrion crow waiting to pick my bones”

             
Alodie nodded and smiling, gestured to the wine jug, her throat suddenly felt as dry as autumn leaves.  “May I?” she enquired.

             
Halfdan nodded, “Certainly Lady Alodie, pour for me too”.  As she got to her feet and poured the wine, a rich red, from the jug into the two chased silver goblets she felt her hands trembling.  This was going too far, it looked like she was going to be plummeted straight into the middle of a political upheaval, in which she would be a major player.  Gritting her teeth she controlled the trembling and handed Halfdan his wine.

             
He raised his goblet to her and grinned.  “My physicians have told me not to drink wine but now it seems as if nothing I do will make any difference.  How long do I have?”

             
Alodie took a deep breath, if there was one thing this man liked it was honesty, “A week, two, no more than that sir, I am sorry”

             
He grinned and took a deep swallow of his wine.  “And this bracelet, will it keep the pain away until the last?”

             
Alodie nodded.  “You will feel no pain whilst you wear it my lord”

             
“Thank Odin for that” he said quietly.  Then he looked up.  “Go and get ready for the feast milady, send in that black crow Skallagrim - you have my thanks - will you leave the bracelet with me - until the end?”

             
Alodie nodded.  “Of course, sir”

             
Halfdan gestured to the main bedroom door.  “Go that way, the door where you came in was the door I used to smuggle in my tarts, you are too good for that door, I would have saved the main one for you”

             
Alodie smiled and opened the door then turned.  “What flavour were they?”

             
Halfdan wrinkled his brow.  “”What flavour were what?”