Page 20 of Whispers at Dusk
He’d been a mature man at death, but not an old one by current-day standards at any rate. He’d been about six feet tall, and extremely well-muscled. He’d shaved his facial hair while a massive sweep of blond hair was held up in a knot at the top of his head.
“Who are you, sir?” she asked softly, mentally trying to remember the words in Norwegian. But in his day, Vikings had spoken Old Norse or...various dialects of the same accrued in the different areas of the world where they’d roamed.
He looked at her, frowning, not certain she was speaking to him. But there was no one else around, so she was addressing either him or a tree.
“Unnskyld meg, snakker du Engelsk?” she said hopefully, hoping she’d retained some grasp of the language she had learned in bits and pieces from her grandparents.
“You are speaking to me,” he said. “You see me, that I am here?”
She smiled. “That’s why I’m speaking to you. But your English is excellent—”
“Madam, I died over a thousand years ago. In that time, I assure you, I’ve kept up. I am also fluent in the language of the French and Italians as well.”
“How commendable. Well, then, how do you do, sir? My name is Della Hamilton—”
“American,” he said, and she thought it wasn’t without something of a weary sigh.
“Yes, American. I’m with—”
“The CIA?”
“No, sir. I’m with the FBI, and we’re trying to stop these horrible killings—”
“If only you could,” he said quietly. He shook his head. “In my day, I was a warrior. But I never slaughtered the innocent nor did my men. I was a warrior, and killed in war. And the concept of bleeding out an innocent maiden, well...far beyond what a warrior would do, far beneath any concept of honor!”
“Yes, sir, far beneath. That’s why... Are you often here? Did you see who brought this young lady here and laid her out so? Or perhaps did you see the victim before?”
He shook his head slowly. “I spend my time with what friends I might be lucky enough to meet—not many stay behind, you know—in town. I am glad to roam such a beautiful place, but...” He stopped speaking, frowning and reflecting. “I do believe I saw that lovely young woman. There is a bar in town called Brager’s. It’s a charming place with screens for football games, as we call them, good food, fine drinks. I was there, watching tryouts...and I believe I saw her with a friend.”
“Male or female?”
“She was with a girlfriend, and many men looked at the two pretty girls.
“Sir! You’ve given us something! I can’t thank you enough.”
“It may be nothing.”
“It’s far better than the nothing we have now,” she assured him.
“I hope to see you again. In different circumstances,” he said. “I haven’t encountered a living seer in years and years now. Oh, I am Orm. Orm Olafson.”
“Orm, thank you,” she said, and she smiled. “I’m here with a partner. He is also a living seer. I know he will want to meet you when...”
“You are with a second seer?” he asked, pleased and amused.
“Yes. Um, in truth, I work with many living seers. There is a man who seeks us out among those who work in law enforcement, but...you will meet Mason Carter, I’m sure. And he will be so grateful for any help you give us, too.”
Orm nodded solemnly. He indicated the little break in the trees that allowed him to look down on the medical team, the forensic team, and the detectives. “He is the exceptionally tall man. He rises over me. Time, of course, has allowed more people to grow to greater heights. I was a tall man for my age.”
“I’m sure you were.” She smiled and assured him, “A very handsome one.”
He inclined his head as he smiled. Then he grew serious. “I will help in any way. Warriors go to battle against their equals. They do not do this to women and children.”
She arched a brow to him. “You were a good Viking? Olm, I’m glad to hear that and curious as well. History shows Vikings often massacred anyone they found during a raid.”
“We were warriors, yes. Plunderers. We invaded—we slaughtered. But we weren’t onewe. To go a-Viking, a man might come from anywhere in Scandinavia. Different leaders behaved in different manners. Oh, we were also settlers. Iceland, Greenland—and for a time, your America. We traded. Did I do my share of killing? Yes. But never a woman or a child. And sometimes, such a thing was not a matter of ethics—the slave trade was great in my day. Women and children dead were worth nothing. Alive, they might garner quite a price. And the...” He paused, shrugging. “The Norse founded Dublin, Ireland, you know. Admittedly, it was a large slave market among other things, but... I fell in love with a lady who might have been for sale to the highest bidder. Rather than chance the disapproval of those who thought I should marry elsewhere, I escaped with her to what is now Iceland. Later, when Sven One-Eye was among the dead, we returned home—and my beautiful wife bore me eleven beautiful children. Of course, I will not lie. It has taken me a thousand years to know the error of my ways in my youth, but I watch the world now, and it never changes. In all nations, there are kind men and women with learned minds. In all nations, there are human monsters. We never learn that war and conquest bring nothing but tears and death.”
Della was deeply touched by his words and the passion in them. “I would have loved to have known you in life!” she said.
