Sandra Hill - The Viking Takes a Knight

He said:

My tongue, leaden with grief

Lies listless.

Naught will stir my soul.

No skaldic poem touches me,

My heart is heavy with woe.

So many tears! Such sadness!

All my thoughts are dark.

How can I breed joy from such blackness?

Rain in my sad heart

And rain drenching my lands

She said:

I have braved sea waves

and fought serpent winds

through many countries to

make this visit to you

A loose interpretation of Egils Saga,
circa tenth century

H AWKS L AIR ,
N ORTHUMBRIA, A.D. 970

C lueless men get stungevery time

Honey was a lot like a woman. Sweet when you were in the mood, and sticky when you were sated.

John of Hawks Lair grimaced at his own flowery musing. He was a warrior when called to service by his Saxon king, a good master to his various estates, but mostly just a reclusive student ofyes, honey.

He didnt realize that hed spoken aloud until his visitor from the Norselands, Hamr Egilsson, made a snorting sound and said, Hah! Forget about honeywhen a mans sap is rising, a female nether nest is the only thing that will do.

Nether nest? Help me, Lord!

Hamr of Vestfold, the wildest Viking that ever rode a longship, dipped a fingertip in one of the dozens of small pottery jars that John was experimenting with, each marked with an identifying placard, such as Clover or Cherry Blossom, and licked the honey appreciatively. Hamr was a nephew, thrice removed, of Johns Norse stepfather, Lord Eirik of Ravenshire. Vikings considered even the thinnest blood connection family; John, though full Saxon, had been raised to do likewise.

John smacked his hand away. Those are for research. Be careful you dont drop any on my notes.

While Lady Eadyth of Ravenshire, Johns mother, was a beekeeper far-famed for her mead and time-keeping candles, John was more interested in the medicinal properties. His patience was wearing thin with his irksome guest, who was clearly getting restless after only three days here in the wilds of Northumbria. John doubted he would have his company much longer. Not that Hamr would be returning to his homeland anytime soon since he had been recently outlawed by a Vestfold Althing for trawling the wrong bed fursthose of a high chieftains wife. Hopefully, it would be a short exile.

Can you not go find a country to plunder, Hamr?

Done that.

Pirate hunting?

Done that. In fact, I am thinking about becoming a pirate.

Have you not fame enough as an outlaw? Must you add piracy to your sins?

Methinks I would be a good pirate. I would give piracy a respectable name.

You would not know respectable if it hit you in your face. John inhaled for patience. Swordplay then?

Done that.

Visit a brothel?

Done that. And done that. And done that.

Go exploring in the lands beyond Iceland?

Too cold.

Join the Varangian guard in Byzantium.

Too much work.

Build a new longship.

I have too many already. Rather, my father does.

John made a clucking sound of disgust.

Lord Gravely, you are too somber by half and unimaginative, Hamr continued.

John frowned at the rascal for all his mlording. John was entitled to wear the title of Lord of Gravely, which he disdained because of his deceased, evil, undoubtedly insane father. For that reason, he would never beget children of his own. The risk of the taint in his blood was too great. Call me Hawk, or call me John, but do not call me Gravely, he warned.

Hamr crossed his eyes at John. Betimes the lackwit behaved like a youthling scarce out of swaddling clothes, even though he had passed the same thirty-one years as John.

Easing himself off the stool with a long sigh of boredom, Hamr finally started for the door, just before Graeme the Stableman knocked.

Is there a problem, Graeme? One of the horses?

Graeme twisted his cap in his hands. Nay, the horses are fine. My manpart is not.

By the rood! What now?

Hamrs ears perked up and, instead of leaving, he turned to listen to the conversation.

I know ye pay me and me wife to slather that honey on my manpart so we kin stop breedin babes, but

You can go now, Hamr, John said.

Are you daft? This promises to be the most fun Ive had since I got here. Hamr sat on his stool once again.

John was about to tell Graeme to come back later, but he blathered on, By the saints! I was tuppin Mary in one of the horse stalls las night, and Im still pickin straw off my ballocks and in my crack. Mary says she has straw up her woman channel, and it itches somethin awful.

Way more detail than John wanted or needed.

Hamr had a hand over his mouth. Laughing, no doubt.

We both got flies swarmin around our private parts. Graeme was on a roll now. What should we do, Lord Hawk?

You could take a bath, he suggested.

Graeme stared at him in horror. A bath a year was his routine, John guessed. Or twice a year, at best.

I have an idea, Hamr said with a grin.

Shut your teeth, fool, John advised. Then, to his stableman, Do you want to quit the project, Graeme? John had twelve couples of childbearing years involved in his experiments to prevent conception. One less would not be fatal to the study.

Nay! Graeme replied. We need the coin.

My ideaDoes no one want to hear my idea? Hamr was waving his hand to get their attention. You could remove Marys honey by licking her nether folds.

Graemes expression bespoke his reluctance.

And she could remove yours by sucking your cock.

Graemes eyes lit up with delight. Good idea! he said. I will tell Mary it is Lord Hawks orders.

John groaned. But he had no time to bemoan his dilemma. Efrim the Woodsman arrived, holding a bloody rag to his left hand, which had been cut almost to the bone two months past. The wound still festered. Maude, the scullery maid, said you used honey on her husband Harrys boil an it healed jist fine.

Honey on a broken blister was one thing, a gaping wound quite another. Next, his people would expect him to cure leprosy with honey.

John washed Efrims wound, then honey-salved it, emphasizing the importance of keeping an open sore clean and covered with unsoiled bindings.

Thank ye very much, mlord. I have no coin, but my Essie will send ye some of her special goat cheese.