Page 22 of Alien Viking's Passion

He swayed back and forth, thinking. “Maybe I can cut it.”

“Maybe you can,” she agreed. “I think you have a knife.” She pointed to the sheath on his belt. She’d prefer not to have him tryto fumble with his huge sword anywhere near her in his current state.

He looked down himself and pulled the knife out. It was the size of a bread knife and must count as quite small by Viking standards.

Craxon laboriously went down on one knee and grabbed hold of the net. “Why are you in the net?”

“Some trolls put me in it,” Aretha explained carefully. “Be careful with that knife, please.”

“Trolls?” he said, his gaze still unsteady.

“I can explain later,” she told him and eyed the bared knife in his hand. It looked sharp. “Watch your fingers.”

The Viking prince concentrated and slowly sawed at the troll rope, crudely braided from animal skin. “Troll net. It smells bad.”

Aretha was relieved she’d escaped the trolls, and that the shortship had been able to carry them over the lake until it hit this island, if that was what it was. But Craxon worried her. He seemed different, slow and dull. That hit on the head had clearly affected him. Hopefully he would recover. If not, this could still turn ugly.

Aretha gently guided his hands until Craxon had cut four strands of the net, and Aretha could drag herself out of it.

“Finally,” she said and brushed debris off herself. She had a bruise or two, but otherwise she’d escaped the troll capture pretty well.

The shortship had tumbled and was sitting on the boulders upside down, its smooth runners up.

Craxon walked over and pushed the sled, turning it over until it fell back on its runners. Normally they didn’t touch the ground at all due to some alien tech that Aretha would have given a fortune to understand, but now the shortship looked like any brightly painted Viking sled.

“Do you think it still works?” Aretha asked.

Craxon stepped into the sled and fiddled with the controls. The sled showed no sign of life.

“No,” the Viking prince said and got back out, looking a bit more agile now. “I’ve never seen a shortship this dead. It reminds me of the longships.” He adjusted his wide belt and gave Aretha a lingering glance. “But you don’t remind me of anything in particular, lady. How do you and I come to be together here?”

Aretha stared, shocked. “You don’tknow?You don’t remember the trolls?”

“Trolls?” The prince frowned. “Trolls in Hjalmarheim? But then we must be on the wrong side of the mountains!”

“I don’t think so,” Aretha said, “but I can’t be sure. Do you know who you are?”

Craxon grabbed the hilt of his sword and lifted his chin. “I am Prince Craxon, ruler of Ragnhildros. I’m honored to meet you, I’m sure. Lady…?”

“I’m Aretha,” Aretha said clearly. “I am one of the Earth women abducted by Earl Bragr and brought here. You have known me for weeks, Craxon. But now you don’t remember who I am?”

“For weeks?” The Viking frowned deeper. “Earth?”

“The trolls hit you on the head,” she explained, having no idea how to deal with amnesia patients. “You fainted and were unconscious for a while. I’m sure your head must hurt.”

He reached back to touch the back of his head and winced. “It really does. You’re saying that I have lost some of my memory? Because I must confess that I still don’t remember you— excuse me.”

He strode quickly away until he was hidden behind a small tree.

Then Aretha heard him throwing up.

Yeah, he probably had a bad concussion. She could only hope he hadn’t fractured his skull, and that he would recover fast.

She tactfully turned her back to him and walked towards the edge of the water. It was a rocky beach which turned to grass and then to woods. It could be an island, but it could also be the other shore of the lake, some kind of peninsula. The fog was so thick, she couldn’t see any other shore, including where they’d come from. Of course that meant the trolls also couldn’t see her. And apparently being made from stone, they probably weren’t the best swimmers.

Craxon came back out of the woods and walked over to the water. He knelt down, splashed water into his face, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Apologies. It suddenly came over me.”

“It’s all right, Craxon. I think you have a bad head injury. The trolls came from behind and gave you a hard knock.”

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