Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god.
They were closing in on her. She was going to die. No, she would probably be raped first, then killed. Or killed, then raped. Would they eat her? These people must be from some kind of insane cult. They had looked at her phone like they’d never even heard of one before. Crazy, axe-wielding cultists who hid from the world would probably eat people.
In any case, Natalie was about to die.
Then the taller man stepped forward— he was the handsome one, the one who’d been looking at her when she woke up. Natalie assumed he was their leader, since the others all seemed to listen to him. Glaring around at the group, he began to speak.
At first, it sounded like gibberish, but as Natalie listened, patterns began to emerge. She recognized words here and there. Words she had learned at university, studying for her Scandinavian History class.
Oh my god. He’s speaking Old Norse.
“- - - - Fools. - - - - you bring - - - anger upon us? - - - Woman - - be - - powerful priestess, lost - - - people. We must - - - hospitality, lest we - - - destroyed when - - - - men return - - - her.”
Natalie could barely understand anything he was saying, but she understood enough. He was telling them not to kill her. Even if he wasn’t handsome, Natalie would have thought he was the most wonderful man in the world at that moment.
The band of men grumbled, and reluctantly, moved away from her. As the men trudged toward the buildings in the distance, still looking suspiciously back at her, Natalie realized this might be her chance. All the men were now between her and the settlement. There was nobody to stop her from making a break for the woods—except for the leader, who walked up and grabbed her firmly by the arm.
“- - - - way,” he said. He pulled her toward the buildings, not roughly, but Natalie could tell that if she tried to run, he could easily drag her. She knew better than to try.
Besides, she thought, he wanted to keep me alive. He’s probably not going to take me home to kill me.
The settlement the man pulled her through was small, consisting of a large central building, surrounded by a handful of smaller houses. A well had been dug, and a garden was planted close by. The man pulled her toward the smallest of the buildings, immediately next to the central hall.
It was a private dwelling, Natalie realized as they entered. She would have called it a hut, but it was a pleasant hut. There was a fireplace at the end of the single-room building, with some wood stacked nearby. A couple of chests stood against the wall, with decorative metal fittings, and a narrow bed covered in furs and wool blankets. There was even a small table and chair.
There was a wooden thunk. The man had closed the door. Instantly, her heart started pounding. She was stuck in here with him now, in his bedroom. Sure, it didn’t seem like he was going to kill her, but what else was he planning?
As if reading her thoughts, the man started circling her, looking her up and down with an evaluating stare. Natalie thought it wouldn’t have been nearly as frightening if his eyes weren’t so piercing. It felt like he was staring right through her, seeing everything under her clothes and then right out the other side. Natalie looked down and wrapped both hands around the strap of her bag, trembling.
The man said nothing as he walked. Natalie could faintly hear other men in the large hall next door, but the silence in this single room was unbearable. It didn’t seem like her captor had any intentions of communicating with her.
With a start, Natalie realized he didn’t know she even spoke Norse. He’d only heard her speak English. Her mind raced, trying to come up with something to say.
Well, might as well start with the basics.
“My name is Natalie.”
The man nearly jumped out of his skin. He leapt backwards, staring at her with wide eyes. Natalie stared back, fear starting to crawl up her back again. All she’d done was startle him. After blinking several times, the man spoke.
“You - - - - - speak Norse?” he demanded. Natalie held up her hands and shook her head.
“Please speak slowly. I don’t understand you,” she said.
The man blinked again, thinking.
“You speak Norse?” he said, enunciating every word carefully.
“A little.” Natalie hesitated, then quietly said, “Thank you.”
“For what?” The man frowned at her.
“For not letting them kill me.”
***
Alrek had to stop himself from staring at her again. It clearly made her anxious. He had been expecting her to cower. That was the usual behavior of someone captured by Norsemen. He hadn’t been expecting her to introduce herself, in very bad Norse, then look straight at him and thank him for not killing her. He really hadn’t been expecting her words to send a flicker of warmth rising up from his toes.
This woman already puzzled him. Everything about her was strange, from the clothing she wore to the language she spoke, and gods help him, she was beautiful. Her flaxen hair was pulled back behind her head, revealing the shape of her face, and her trembling lips were full and sensuous. But the most captivating thing about her was her eyes, those stunningly blue eyes.
All this loveliness was counteracted by those awful clothes. She was wearing trousers, topped with a short-sleeved under tunic and some kind of sleeveless, quilted tunic over that. The end result was that she looked like a tube with legs. A tube covered in mud. Still, no matter what she looked like, she was here and had to be dealt with.
“What did you say your name was?” Alrek asked.
“Natalie.”
Strange name.
“Natal…lee,” he said slowly. Natalie nodded. “I am Alrek. I lead this settlement.”
Natalie nodded again, evidently waiting for him to say more. At least she seemed to understand her place. Alrek pulled his chair away from the table and sat down, arms folded. He wanted to keep her intimidated. For now.
“Where did you come from?” he asked.
Natalie thought for a long time. The look of puzzlement on her face was impressive, and Alrek began to get impatient. How hard was it to explain that you’d been left behind from a group of travelers?
“There is tomorrow,” she said suddenly. Alrek looked at her, mouth open.
“…Yes?”
“And there is tomorrow after tomorrow,” Natalie continued.
“Yes. I do not see what this has to do with where you came from,” Alrek said, raising an eyebrow in warning.
“And there is a year after this year. I came…” she paused, taking a deep breath, “…from many, many years after this year. Hundreds. Eleven hundreds.”
Alrek’s mouth dropped open again.
“You’re telling me,” he said, “that you came from eleven hundred years in the future?”
Natalie stared at him blankly, and Alrek cursed to himself. He had spoken too quickly.
“You say you came from the future.” he said, more sedately. She shook her head.
“I do not understand this word “future”,” she said.
“It is the tomorrow after tomorrow.”
Natalie’s eyes lit up with understanding, and she smiled. “Yes. Future.”
Alrek was so distracted by the way she smiled that he almost didn’t notice the absurdity of what she was saying. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. I’ve picked up a madwoman, he thought grimly. At least she was a pretty madwoman.
“Sit down.”
Natalie look around for another chair before she realized he meant on the floor. Looking rather subdued again, she sat on the compressed earth floor beside the hearth, and Alrek tried to decide what to do.
He’d intended to keep her around for a while, but if she was mad, that wouldn’t work very well. And then there were those bizarre objects she kept giving him. He couldn’t deny that there was something unearthly about those.
Alrek pulled the rectangle out of his pocket, the one that had lit up. It lit up again, displaying more strange characters as he moved it. Alrek turned it over and over in his hand, trying to figure out how it worked, or at least, what it was for.
“I can show how it works.” Looking up, he discovered that Natalie was watching him closely. Alrek hesitated a moment before nodding. She stood, walking over to his chair, and leaned over his shoulder. A strangely delicious, sweet, fruity smell seemed to radiate from her, tickling his nose.
“This is the front,” she said, turning it in his hand so the translucent side faced up. “Then press this button.” She pressed her finger on a nub on the side on the rectangle, and it lit up more brightly than before. “Now - - - - - to right.”
“What?” Alrek turned to look at her. Natalie had started talking in that strange tongue of hers. She made a face as she realized what she’d done.
“Scratch it?” she suggested.
Alrek put his finger to the rectangle and started scratching. Natalie lunged over his shoulder, practically jumping into his lap to grab his hand away.
“Not with the nail!” she said, almost angrily. “With the soft part.”
Natalie took his index finger in her hand and pressed the pad to the glass, softly drawing it to the side. The screen lit up even more, with little symbols that were completely meaningless to Alrek.
He didn’t care, though. He was torn between demanding who the hell she thought she was, yelling at him and telling him what to do, and being distracted by her chest pressing into his shoulder. She was surprisingly soft under that shapeless, quilted tunic.
Alrek twisted, hooking one arm around Natalie’s waist, and pulled her into his lap. She yelped, freezing up stiffer than an icicle, and stared at him with round, frightened eyes. This woman was so strange, overly direct one moment and completely timid the next. That sweet scent wafted past him again, and Alrek realized it was coming from her hair. Frowning, he leaned over and sniffed, loose hairs just tickling his nose. Natalie flinched.
“What is that smell?” Alrek asked, still leaning into her.
“Soap. Smelled soap,” she said. Her voice was shaking.
Leaning forward just a little bit more, Alrek pressed his nose into her hair. What kind of place did she come from, where soap smelled like that? It made his mouth water. Reaching up, he pulled away the band restraining her hair. To his confusion, it was stretchy. He tugged on it again, harder.
“Ow!” Natalie winced, giving him a dirty look. Alrek wound up grabbing her hair with one hand behind the band and pulling it off with the other. He threw the stretchy band across the room, and she snickered at him. Alrek scowled. Her hair was free, but the moment was ruined.
“Show me how it works,” he said, putting the rectangle into her hands. Natalie pressed the nub on the side again, and rubbed her finger on it. Alrek stared as she wagged her fingers around, shapes and symbols flashing on the screen, like…
Magic.
“What is it?” Alrek breathed.
“It is…” Natalie stopped and shook her head. “Here, it is a toy, and nothing else.”
“A toy?” He couldn’t believe a device like that was a mere toy. She must have come from some other world.
Frowning, Natalie quickly moved symbols on the device around, and the whole surface changed color. Symbols flashed up, and the rectangle began to play perky music. Taking Alrek’s hand again, she made him hold the rectangle sideways.
“Scratch the vegetable. Do not scratch black ones,” she said. After showing him a couple of times, he seemed to figure it out.
Natalie sat still. She was probably going to wake up soon. There was no possible way she could actually be sitting in a Viking’s lap while he played Vegetable Samurai on her phone. But if it was real…
She was alone. The cell phone proved it. There was no signal. No wireless, no 4G, no GPS, no nothing. There was no connection. There was nothing to connect to.
“It stopped,” Alrek said.
“You lost.” The tone of Natalie’s voice made him look up. There were tears rolling down her cheeks. Alrek dropped the rectangle, his mouth falling open. All thoughts of trying to be intimidating disappeared as the strange woman in his lap melted into tears. He put his arms around her, not sure what to do, but certain he didn’t want her to cry.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly. “Nobody is going to hurt you.”
Natalie shook her head.
“It is not that, it is the - - - - -.” She pointed at the device, still on the floor where he had dropped it. “That - - - - - is not only a toy. In my homeland, everyone has a - - - - -. You use it to talk to other people from a long way away. If I was home, I would be able to talk to people with it, or use the - - - - - - or something, but there’s nothing. I’m really alone here.”
“That… phone,” Alrek said, slowly sounding out the foreign word, “is like a letter?”
“Yes. No. It is a letter you do not have to mail. You write a message and it appears on your friend’s phone, and your friend sends a message to your phone from theirs.”
“That sounds like magic.” Alrek said. Natalie huffed.
“It is not magic, it is— it is not important. The important thing is I am stuck here, sitting in a - - - - - -’s lap, and there is no way I am ever going home.”
More tears made their escape, and Natalie roughly wiped at her eyes, trying to think. This is ridiculous. You’re a grown woman. Get a hold of yourself. So what if your fiancé dumped you. So what if you time traveled 1100 years into the past. So what if you’re being harassed by a hot Viking. There’s nothing to cry about.
Alrek pulled her head down to rest on his shoulder, stroking her hair. Natalie stiffened, but when he continued to pet her, she slowly relaxed. To her surprise, he actually smelled quite nice, like wood smoke and leather. She had been expecting stale sweat. Taking a deep breath, Natalie sighed and snuggled into his grip. She’d never needed a hug more badly in her life, and Alrek was warm and comfortable and big enough to wrap her right up. If she had to get hugs from a Viking, so be it.
They sat there in silence for a long time, until Natalie had stopped crying entirely. Alrek let her rest with a patience that surprised even himself.
“You must think I’m a child,” she said quietly.
“I think you are very frightened and very confused,” Alrek replied. “It is obvious you don’t know how you got here, and you must have people you wish to return to. A husband, perhaps?”
He glanced downward, watching her reaction. Unfortunately, her reaction was to start crying again. Natalie shook her head violently.
“A few… A few hours ago, my betrothed rejected me. He broke our engagement,” she said bitterly. Wiggling around, she dug her engagement ring out of her pocket, glaring at it. Alrek was stunned to see her produce a bright gold ring, set with sparkling gems, and even more stunned when she threw it into the fireplace.
“That seems a waste.” he said.
“I do not want anything to do with that - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - .”
Alrek had no idea what she was saying, but he gathered from her tone of voice and expression that it wasn’t anything nice. Pulling Natalie back into his arms, he started petting her again. She nuzzled back into him, trembling with a combination of anger and despair. It was saddening to see her so distressed, but he was more pleased. If there was no husband or betrothed, he could do whatever he wanted.
It also put an idea into his head. “Did your betrothed send you here? To punish you?”
Natalie snorted. “If he has that power, I am a sow with piglets.”
“You got here somehow,” he pointed out.
“I keep hope this is a dream that I will wake up from soon,” she muttered.
Alrek frowned. Taking her chin in one hand, he tilted her face up to look at his. Before Natalie could even gasp, his lips sank down over hers.
She had expected him to kiss her roughly, to take her mouth by force, but he was surprisingly gentle. It was the soft, tender kiss of someone trying to give comfort. And it did. Natalie slowly closed her eyes, and he pulled her a little closer.
When she didn’t resist him, Alrek pushed a little farther. He teased her lips with his tongue, until she sighed against him, and then he pulled away. Natalie blinked, and to Alrek’s delight, she looked a little puzzled that he had stopped.
“Do dreams do that?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
Natalie swallowed. “I usually wake up before reaching the good part.”
Now it was Alrek’s turn to snort. Picking her up by the waist, he set her on her feet. “You will stay here. For now.” Standing up, he crossed to one of the chests along the wall and pulled it open. “Now take your clothes off.”
“What?” It was more of a squeal than a word. When Alrek turned, Natalie was looking at him in horror, her face bright red.
“You are covered in mud,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Take your clothes off.”
“But—what are you going to—”
Looking at her, the way she stared at him like he was some kind of monster, understanding dawned in Alrek’s mind.
“You think I’m going to force you into my bed, don’t you?” he said, crossing his arms. Natalie looked away, but didn’t deny it. “Well, you can relax. I prefer my women not terrified. Now take off your clothes.”
Alrek turned back to his chest, and began sorting through his spare clothes. There wasn’t a woman’s garment in the entire settlement, and there wouldn’t be until their comrades arrived in a few weeks with more settlers, or someone went upriver to trade with the Gaels. A man’s tunic would have to do for now. He selected a bright red under tunic of soft wool, woven by his sister back north. It would be shapeless, but it would be warm.
When he turned around, Natalie was still staring at him, fully clothed. Alrek frowned at her.
“If you do not wish to sleep on the floor with no blanket, change your clothes.” He tossed the tunic across the room, and she caught it, scowling at him.
She took her shoes off first, laced boots of unfamiliar construction, then the black, quilted sleeveless tunic. To Alrek’s fascination, she opened the garment by taking hold of a tab at the top and pulling it down. The material split like a piece of paper being ripped. He picked it up from where she’d dropped it, experimentally pulling the tab back and forth.
When he looked up again, she’d taken off her under tunic. She was wearing the strangest breast band he’d ever seen, two pockets put together to hold the breasts, with shoulder straps.
“Strange thing,” he said, reaching out and hooking a finger under one strap. To Alrek’s amazement, Natalie squeaked and slapped his hand away.
“Are you a child?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“No. I am a man, and you are in my house,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. Natalie continued to scowl at him, but she took the hint and kept her mouth shut.
To Alrek’s disappointment, she put the red under tunic on over the breast band, then pulled her arms inside the garment to remove her trousers hidden from his view. That was even odder than the breast band, a woman wearing trousers.
Her muddy clothes now removed, Natalie stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room, trying to tug the long sleeves of the under tunic up over her hands and make them stay there. Alrek took a couple of bronze pins from a smaller chest.
“Hold still.” One at a time, he pulled the cuffs tight around her wrists, pinning them in place.
Natalie stood still, watching him. She couldn’t decide what to make of this man. He kept alternating between terrifying her and treating her with surprising gentleness. She was dependent on his mercy, and she couldn’t tell if he was dangerous or not. Both sleeves pinned, he stepped back, looking her up and down.
“You look ridiculous,” he said, a smirk just teasing the corners of his mouth. Natalie scowled again.
Okay, add being rude to the list.
They were interrupted by an enormous long-haired cat slinking into the house. After giving Natalie an owl-eyed stare, she disappeared under the bed. A chorus of tiny mews emerged from the darkness. Alrek groaned.
“That thrice-cursed cat,” he said, “has had her kits under my bed, and every time I move them, she puts them back.”
Alrek forgotten, Natalie instantly crossed to the bed and sank down on hands and knees, peering underneath. More mews greeted her. One small kitten scampered out, a wispy-furred tortoise-shell, and sniffed her. While Alrek watched in wonderment, Natalie picked up the kitten and held it to her face, cooing in some unknown tongue. It wiggled around in her grip, meowing loudly and then alternately licking and biting her fingers. He found himself smiling as he watched. She was actually smiling, a wide, genuine smile, untainted by fear or confusion.
“I wish I had known all it took to stop your crying was cats,” he said drily.
Natalie looked up at him, scowling over the kitten. “Shut up.”
Alrek laughed and sat down next to her, fishing another kit out from under the bed.