Page 3 of Claimed By the Viking

“The sun? How can I when we’re in the midst of night? If you would only light the lamp, as I asked.” His tone was laced with anger, as if Signy were to blame, playing some cruel trick upon him.

“The blow to his head has knocked out his reason,” Ulva interjected. “‘Tis plain to see. Either that or the cur is a simpleton who knows not night from day.” She gave the rope another twist.

“Cease this!” Choking, the man plucked hopelessly at the binds which held him. “I beg!”

Has the injury near his temple robbed him of his sense? Or of his sight? Do such things happen?

More curious still that he gives in so easily. If he got to his feet, he might overthrow my mother and free himself. He’s strong, isn’t he? Yet he behaves as if he was already defeated.

Not so peculiar if all about you is dark, and you cannot make out your assailants.

“You truly cannot see me? Nor anything about you?” Signy spoke gently, motioning to her mother to relent a little.

“I see nothing.” The man rubbed at his neck. “‘Tis as if a black cloak has wrapped about me.” He twisted the base of his palms into his eyes, then blinked, turning to each side, but Signy could tell nothing had changed.

He’s sightless!

What turmoil he must be suffering, but if the gods have blighted him so, ‘tis surely a judgment upon him. What has he done to warrant such a punishment?

Signy ventured forward. “The room is bright with sun, and you should be able to see me as easily as I see you. If you do not…”

“Naaaaay!” The man’s despairing wail came long and loud. His face crumpled, and he slumped to the floor, near yanking Ulva from her feet since she still held the rope behind him.

To Signy’s horror, he began to bang his head upon the ground, using such force that his brow was soon weeping crimson. His lament grew to a mournful, aching howl.

Ulva gave a shriek of her own and threw the rope aside. “He’s crazed! Quickly, Signy, hit him with the poker before he kills us both!”

Signy could not move. She gaped between her mother and the poor wretch, unable to speak.

“You’re hopeless!” Ulva’s face was contorted with rage. “Give it to me. I’ll do it!”

Signy clasped the poker tightly, shaking her head. She had no idea what to think or what to do, but she couldn’t let this man be harmed. His sorrow was acute, and she knew what it was to be turned inward with grief, to feel bleakly alone.

“ToHelwith you, then! I’ll fetch Bothild. The others will do what you’ve no stomach for! ‘Twill be your own fault if we return to find you murdered!” Ulva spat the words, heading for the door.

Signy could only stare as her mother left her, forsaken and desolate.

CHAPTER 2

All was ash,without color or hope. Thrust into darkness, Viggo could see nothing, let alone defend himself, and the lamentable women seemed intent on abusing him.

“What has happened to me?” He beseeched the gods more than the wench who remained with him, and his wail intensified the throbbing in his head, compounding his torment.

“You’ve lost your sight.” Her voice was soft. “But ‘tis only the shock. Be calm, I beg you.”

Shock? What did she know of it?

He heaved in a breath, consumed by his calamity. Had she ever suffered as he did now? Clawing at his face, he encountered the wet warmth that seeped from his brow where he’d mashed his head to the ground.

So long he’d labored in the black of the pits, compelled to work for another’s gain. It had taken decades to overcome the doldrum his father had created for him and his brothers. Years of sweat grafting in the mines.

Only recently had Eldberg relinquished his serfdom, paying him a small wage for his efforts. Elberg had even offered to sell him back the land his father had forfeited. Viggo had clutched atthat hope—of reclaiming the old farmstead and living with peace in his heart.

And now?

His chest constricted. He’d only agreed to join the jarl’s sea-bound mission to raise funds for the farm, but he’d woken to find himself cast into an abyss.

A boat, the woman had said, tossed upon her shore. His memory was dim, but he recalled pulling upon oars and the waves rising up like a wall. He’d been rowing alongside others.

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