25 September 1066
Jorvik, Earldom of Northumbria
Kingdom of England
Sweat trickled down Nathan's brow and stung his eyes. He pulled up his sweatshirt and swiped at his face. His hands trembled, and his legs seemed made of rubber. He steadied himself against the altar and inhaled a tremulous breath. The reek from the Viking's unwashed body twitching on the dirt floor fouled his nostrils.
Dawn's golden light poured into the room and formed a halo about Haakon's taut form. Despite his ragged, sleeveless shirt, his sweat-soaked breeches, and the ludicrous hippy sandals on his feet, he still looked like an avenging warrior. Or an Olympic gymnast. He gripped a Taser in one hand, and the wires connecting the weapon to the Viking scintillated in the sunlight.
The Viking—or whatever he was—lurched, eyes bulging and muscles flexing. Both his hands still gripped his sword, which looked big enough to slay a brontosaurus and broad enough to dig a grave.
Claude, hollow-cheeked and gray, leaned against the opposite end of the altar, still wheezing from his near-death dance with the Viking.
That FBI agent, Corbett, stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at Haakon. Her black gown flared from her arms like a raptor's wings while her voice cawed some nonsense about a Viking at a bridge.
Whatever she said made Haakon wilt. His shoulders slumped as he knelt to tug the Taser's probes free. He fingered the wires and muttered, "It's not too late. The Taser effects are temporary. We could still take him there."
"Exactly how will we do that?" she snapped. "Sling him over his horse like a sack of grain? King Harold will be here within the hour. His scouts are already on the road to Stamford Bridge to block word of his advance getting back to Hardrada." Puzzlement replaced the rage that had flamed in her eyes. "In fact, I don't know what he's doing here in the first place. He should be with the other Vikings at Stamford Bridge."
Claude rubbed his knuckles. "He was here to kill me."
Nathan goggled at him. Claude was always full of himself, but this seemed outrageous even for him.
"I mean, he thinks I'm Duke William's envoy," Claude continued. "Hardrada probably decided I'm a spy and sent his best warrior to dispose of me."
Nathan jumped when Claude's calloused hand grasped his. His former lover rasped, "Nathan, you need to come with me. We've got to get out of here." His haggard face could have belonged to a man of eighty years.
Nathan straightened his back and tried to keep his voice steady. "I'm all for that. Take me home. I swear I'll never again complain about how boring Iowa is." His gaze rested on the splintered stool Claude had used as a shield and he shuddered.
Claude's boney forefinger stroked his cheek. "Alas, that is not to be, my love. You can't go home again. It's too late for that. Come with me, and eternity will be our home."
"Eternity, huh? That sounds like what they say at funerals. No thanks. I want to go back to my apartment."
Claude tugged on his arm. Nathan resisted, but then the Viking's arm flailed, and his sword clattered against the stone altar. Nathan skittered away and let his ex-lover pull him toward the door.
"Wait! Where are you taking him?" Haakon grabbed his other arm and a brief tug-of-war ensued with Nathan in the middle. He wondered if they were going to make a wish.
Corbett's imperious voice stopped them. "Enough!"
She might be bossy, but at least they let go of him. He shook his arms out while she continued.
She glared at Haakon. "He can't stay here. His lingual implant hasn't fully kicked in yet, so he doesn't speak the languages. In any case, he's ignorant of the culture. The English will likely kill him as a spy. Same if he goes to the Vikings. He's safest if Claude takes him back to our legation with Duke William in Normandy."
Haakon scowled and looked stubborn. "Why should I trust you? He'd be safer with Brother Ralf right here in the monastery. Or I can just take him back to Control right now. Besides, how will you get him to Normandy from here?"
She snorted. "We'd jump him, of course. In fact, you're right. We should just take him to Chicago Control and let them figure out what to do with him." Her lips formed a grim line. "We've got work to do here, thanks to your bone-headed intervention."
"Like you had things under control." Haakon glanced back at the Viking, and his eyes widened. He murmured, "Jump him." His voice firmed as he turned back to Corbett. "Look, this Viking dude's still out. If we hurry, he'll never know. We could jump him back to the Viking camp at Stamford Bridge."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Maybe you're not a total idiot after all. It's risky, but it might work." She clasped her hands behind her back and paced. "Someone will have to jump with him, to make sure he reconnects with Hardrada's army."
Haakon glanced at Claude. "Don't you have an agent to do that?"
She followed his gaze. "We need someone with combat training. Swordplay, hand-to-hand, all the skills of the era. He's an anthropologist, and scientist, not a warrior." She turned back to Haakon. "It has to be you."
Nathan couldn't quite follow what this was about, except that he understood they were debating whether Claude or Haakon should risk their lives. The thought of Haakon on a suicide mission sent a flutter of fear through his heart. Claude tugged at his hand, but he wrenched free. He had to see how this turned out.
Haakon scowled. "Why me? I get that it can't be him"—he gestured to Claude—"but why me? Don't you have other agents here?"
"Here and now? No. Just me. Look, this whole mission is jury-rigged. Back in 1962 when you told me about Vikings and 1066, I jumped to Control to report. That’s why they’d sent be back here earlier in my timeline. I’d already been here—well, to 'here' a couple of months ago—to reconnoiter and had connected with Claude, who'd sailed with the Viking fleet as Duke William's envoy to observe their invasion. Eventually, Control hit on this plan, but I was the only agent available. There had been two assigned Timekeepers to this battle, but something happened at the sacking of Scarborough and they weren't available. I don't know why. Dead, I suppose."
Haakon paled. "Dead? Is that what they said?"
"They didn't say. You know what Control is like. Secretive ass hats are the same everywhere."
"So I have to do it, then." He heaved a sigh. "But wait. What about Nathan? Why bring him here?"
She shrugged. "Beats the crap out of me. Part of the mission, they said. After we set this up, they sent me back to 1962 to bring the two of you to here and now."
Haakon pressed his palms together and closed his eyes, as if in prayer. After a moment, he straightened and turned to Claude. "You'll protect him. On your honor?"
Claude gave a little snort. "Of course. I love him. He'll be safe with me, Timekeeper." He managed to insert a sneer of contempt in the last word.
Haakon's eyes narrowed. "See that he is, Frenchman, or I'll chase you to the ends of eternity for my revenge."
Claude turned to Corbett. "Sweet Mary, Mother of God, where do you fiends find these anachronisms?"
She shook her head and snarled, "Shut up. Just see that you take care of him. For some reason, he's important."
Haakon ignored them and faced Nathan. "I'm sorry, my friend. If it were possible, I'd take you to Control myself, but my duty is here."
Nathan had enough. "Wait a minute. Take me where? It's my life. Don't I get a vote?"
Haakon, Corbett, and Claude spoke at once. "No," "No," and "Mon Dieu, non!"
Nathan planted his feet on the ground and folded his arms over this chest. "I'm not going anyplace unless you agree to take me fucking home. I've had enough of this Viking shit to last me a lifetime."
Claude rolled his eyes and muttered, "Pig-headed, like always. Never listen—"
Corbett interrupted, "Just Taser him and be done with it."
Haakon glared at her and stuffed the Taser inside the back of his pants like a mobster's pistol. He grasped Nathan's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "You have the heart of a lion, my friend." His gaze probed Nathan's. "I owe you a life debt. I will never forget. In my time of need, I trusted you to pull the arrow from my chest. You cared for me when I was helpless. By all that has passed between us, you have my bond that I will do what is right by you. My solemn promise. Will you trust me?"
By all that has passed between us. That phrase echoed in Nathan's head. Something about Haakon's intensity took Nathan's breath away. "Yes," he stammered, and then more firmly, "Yes, of course I trust you." Like I've never trusted anyone. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but it was like nothing he'd ever known. Whatever it was warmed his heart and lifted his soul.
A smile split Haakon's face. "That's my hero from the Rune Cave." He heaved a sigh. "I have a duty here to perform with this—person." He toed the Viking with a sandaled foot. "Go with the Frenchman. We will meet uptime in Control. Fare thee well and go with God."
Claude tugged at Nathan's wrist again. "Come." He pulled a pewter cross from inside his tunic. "Stand close and don't move. Don't be afraid. This might hurt a bit."
Nathan rolled his eyes. "I know. Jump jeebies and all that." He let Claude hold him in a bear hug. In seconds, the evanescent glow of the temporal field swirled about them. Pinpricks needled at his skin, and his stomach roiled, but it wasn't as bad as before. He must be getting used to it.
Outside of the bubble of light surrounding him, shimmering behind the whirling fog, Haakon stood at attention. He lifted his right fist over his heart in a stiff salute. Nathan's chin quivered. He suddenly needed to wish the Timekeeper well, to tell him to be careful, to touch him just one more time. But it was too late. The light thickened and snatched Nathan away to another corner of space and time.
Haakon was gone.