My Lord Viking (52 page)
“You might suggest the same to Loki,” Nils said, bringing Linnea up to stand beside him.
Frigga laughed.
“You are a daring mortal, Nils Bjornsson.
I suspect you, too, have within you the blood of the gods.”
“That would explain why you have gained such favor among them,” added Freya, still pouting.
“Your brave deeds are exemplary, but no other mortal man has been granted the wish you have or allowed to make the sacrifice you did.”
“I shall thank Odin myself when I see him at his table in
Valhalla
,” Nils replied.
“That time is not now,” Frigga said, again putting her hand on Linnea’s head.
“It is pleasing to see that those who possess my handmaiden’s blood still live in honor and still treasure the love that fills their hearts.”
“Thank you,” Linnea replied.
“I know you have helped Nils in the completion of his quest.”
Frigga smiled.
“I only sent him to you, child.
The rest was your doing.
However, Nils, son of Bjorn, you gave up much rank to come here to see that the blemish upon your family’s honor was erased.
You should know that what you gave up is still yours.”
“I do not understand,” Nils said, glad to speak the words he had thought so often since he began the search for the knife.
“You are, in this time,
Lord
Barrington.”
Frigga smiled and touched Linnea’s hair like a doting grandmother.
“You will have the rank you deserve as a reward for your protection of the heart of my handmaiden’s child.”
“Can you create a title for him just like that?” Linnea blurted.
Nils steeled himself for Frigga’s icy fury, but the goddess smiled.
“You have only seen part of what I can do, child of my handmaiden, so believe what you have seen. A title and the lands to go with it on an island off the coast of what you know now as
England
are his, as they would have belonged to his descendants if he had remained in his own time. Come, Freya.”
Linnea sank to sit on the settee as the two women vanished.
When Nils knelt beside her, she pressed his head to her breast as he leaned his cheek on her hair.
“You are still here,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“You could have asked them to take you back to Ethelred’s reign.
This is not your time or your place.”
“It was not, but I would like to remain here...with you.”
Her breath caught, and she could not speak.
“
Unnasta
, I love you.”
Tears spilled from her eyes as he spoke the words she had feared he would never be able to speak.
“I love you, Nils Bjornsson.”
“So you know it is true that we belong together.”
He looked up at her.
“In this time or any other.
In this place or any other.”
“Yes.”
She touched his rough cheek to assure herself he truly was here.
“Then let me stay with you here and now.”
He smiled.
“Here, as Niles Barrington, I can have what I always hoped would be mine.”
“But you wanted to go to
Iceland
, and—”
He took her hands and kissed first one, then the other.
“Dr. Foster wishes for me to join him and his staff on a research trip to uncover Viking relics at a site in
Iceland
.”
Her eyes widened.
“Your dream come true.”
“I had thought so.”
He brushed his mouth against hers. “No dream can come true without you being a part of it, Linnea.
Come with me.”
“To Iceland?”
“You taught me what I needed to know to survive in your Polite World.
Come with me, and let me show you what remains of my world.”
His tongue played along her lips until she giggled with delight.
“Let me show you the love we share for this time and all others.
Come with me and be my
viigi maka
, my wife, Linnea.”
She laughed.
“Yes, I want to share my
viigjinn
with you.”
“How did you learn the
Norrfoolk’s
word for wedding?”
“I have been speaking with Dr. Foster, too.”
She smiled as he drew her to her feet and into his arms.
“I want to spend...What is the word?”
Looking up into his eyes that glistened with love, she said, “I want to spend
aevi
with you.”
“Forever?”
She nodded.
“Forever.”
“That can be a very long time.”
Slipping her hand up through his tawny hair, she murmured as she brought his mouth to hers, “I hope so.
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
My Lord Viking. Copyright ©2001 by Jo Ann Ferguson.
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