Page 89 of Viking Unchained

She read them three stories, which Thorfinn had to admit enthralled him, as well as his son. When she finished the last one, The Viking Who Cried, Thorfinn said, “That saga is well and good, but not entirely true. First off, Vikings do not wear horned helmets. How ridiculous! And little ones are closely guarded by their mothers. Ne’er have I heard of a boyling who went a-Viking.”

“Do you know any Viking stories?” Mike craned his neck to peer up at him.

Thorfinn could not help himself. He gave the boy a hug and a quick kiss on the top of his head.

“Mayhap I can think of one. Well, this is a real story. It is about your great-grandfather’s brother . . . I mean, my grandfather’s brother, King Olaf.”

“Your grandfather was a king?” Mike’s eyes were wide with wonder.

“Nay, my grandfather’s brother. In any case, Olaf and my grandfather Eric developed a most wonderful talent, which has been passed on to every male in our family.” He proceeded to tell him how they could catch a spear aimed at them by an enemy and, by a deft flick of the fingers, turn it and lob it back at the villain. “It would be comparable to modern soldiers turning bombs or bullets off their targets and sending them back to the enemy, all in a split second. Like this . . .” He picked up a pencil from the bedside table, twirling it in his fingers and tossing it at the opposite wall.

“Wow!” Mike exclaimed.

“My mother is going to kill you if you put pencil marks on her wallpaper.”

He chucked her chin playfully.

She did not return his smile.

Mayhap those inroads are rockier than I anticipated.

“Can you show me how?” Mike wanted to know.

Thorfinn nodded. “On the morrow.”

“But we doan have no spears here.” Mike pulled a long face, a ploy of children through the ages.

“We will use broom and rake handles.”

“I don’t know . . .” Lydia started to say.

“Shhh,” he said, putting a forefinger to her lips. “It will be safe. Besides, it is a sight to behold watching my three uncles at the game.”

Lydia tried to nip at his finger, but he quickly removed it.

“Okay, kiddo.” Lydia rumpled Mike’s hair, picked up the book, then slid off the bed, standing. “Time for bed.”

“One more book, please.”

She shook her head. “That’s what you said last time. Besides, tomorrow’s going to be a long day. You’ll be seeing Grandma and Grandpa Denton.”

He smiled. “Betcha they give me a present.”

“I have a gift for you back at your home,” Thorfinn told him.

“Goody. What is it?”

“A surprise.”

As Lydia tucked Mike in, she said to Thorfinn, “I saw your gift for Mike. I also saw the amber. Did you buy that for . . . someone?”

He grinned. “Yea. Someone.”

“It has a star in the center, did you know that?”

He frowned. “Yea. How does that signify?”

“I used to collect anything with stars. Star tree ornaments. Star wind chimes. Star canisters and pot holders. And every time Dave went on a mission, he would bring me a gift back. Always with stars on it somewhere.” She paused. “Was there any special reason why you bought that amber?”