Exhausted and hungry, Bjarni and his men tried to steal food, but once again their plans went awry. Galicia had been raided for years by Vikings, and by Saracen pirates from the south, and the landowners were ready for them. Ever the opportunists, however, the Vikings abducted the younger daughter of the landowner whose larder they’d unsuccessfully tried to rob and demanded a great ransom for her safe release. It was a heinous crime, of course, the act of desperate men, and it had unexpected consequences.
While Bjarni was negotiating his price for the return of the young woman, whose name was Goisvintha, Oddi was put in charge of guarding her, which put the two of them, strapping Viking and comely young woman, in constant contact. I suppose the inevitable ensued, first pleas for freedom on her part, words of sympathy on his, then jest, and eventually passion: Oddi and Goisvintha fell in love or at least in lust, and Oddi was not for sending her back to her father, one Theodoric by name, no matter the price, nor was she for returning. Oddi sent his brother back to negotiate a marriage rather than a ransom, and Theodoric reacted as one might expect. No daughter of Theodoric’s was going to marry a Viking pagan. Bjarni told a disappointed Goisvintha and Oddi of her father’s intractability on that subject.
“I’ve come up with a plan,” Oddi told his brother. “We’ll dress one of the thralls in Goisvintha’s clothing, and you’ll exchange him for the money.” Thralls were servants or slaves really and didn’t have much to say about what happened to them. “In the dark, Theodoric won’t notice until it’s too late. The rest of us will wait for you at the boat, and we’ll all be on our way, including Goisvintha. as soon as you and the money arrive.”
What Bjarni thought of this plan, we’ll never know, but apparently he agreed to it. Theodoric, perhaps knowing his daughter’s nature very well, or being at least as crafty as Oddi, was not fooled at all, and what Bjarni got for the thrall in woman’s clothing was a sack of sand. Bjarni made a run for the boat, Theodoric and his fellow landowners hot on his trail. What ensued was a rout, one in which Bjarni’s only boat was destroyed and the other Vikings killed. Only Bjarni, Oddi, and his Goisvintha, and the poet Svein were able to escape into the night. But they were not free for long.
* * *
Maya Alexander was on her knees weeding in her garden when I found her, her long ash blond hair tied in a pony-tail, in jeans and a sweatshirt. She was being helped by a rather muscular man in army fatigues, with short-cropped hair and dark eyes, the kind of man you notice partly because he’s good-looking, but also because he’s a bit intimidating. It had been quite easy to find her. I just followed the road across the Churchill Barriers, causeways that linked a small chain of islands, and then turned on to the road to Hoxa. Then I simply stopped at the largest house I’d seen since I’d arrived.
Maya looked genuinely pleased to see me, even if my name eluded her. “It’s… I’m sorry, I’m just so bad with names. You’re the antique dealer from Toronto and your name is?”
“Lara McClintoch,” I said. “This is very presumptuous of me to just show up, but Lester described your home very well, and I knew it had to be yours the minute I saw it. It is as spectacular as he said it is. I won’t stay. I just wanted to say hello.” Lester had likened the Alexanders’ Orkney residence to a palace, but it wasn’t really. It was, however, a very fine three-story stone house with acres of land around it, a tree-lined drive, and a wonderful view across Hoxa to the sea.
“But I invited you,” she said. “I may have had too much champagne that evening, but I remember that very well. Please come in. I’ll just wash my hands. Drever, this is Lara McClintoch. Lara, this is Drever Clark, who looks after the place for us. Drever, you’ll have to carry on without me.” Drever nodded in my general direction and then went back to his work.
Soon we were comfortably ensconced in a sunroom, filled with plants and flowers, and white wicker furniture. The view from this side of the house was also fine, but marred by a rather decrepit-looking structure, this one a real castle of sorts, but terribly run down, with a garden that hadn’t been tended in years. There was some kind of hedge that was completely out of control, and weeds everywhere, and a barn way out back that looked about to fall down. Maya found me looking at it as she brought in a tray of tea and shortbreads. She’d changed into a cashmere sweater and leggings. “Awful, isn’t it?” she said. “I don’t know what to do. I cannot understand why anyone would take so little care of a place like that. I want to run out and fix up that garden every time I look at it. The worst part of it is the dogs. I don’t know if the neighbors were breeding them or what, but they were big and vicious, at least I think so, and they kept running all over our property, and there’s this man who lives there who just hangs around. There’s something the matter with him. He’s not quite right, if you see what I’m saying. The concept of private property seems to be meaningless to him. He just wanders over here whenever he feels like it.
“Robert tells me to relax, to live and let live, you know, be an accommodating neighbor. He says he’ll buy the property at some point, and tear that ghastly medieval thing down. The owner won’t sell right now, but Robert says he’s elderly, his wife died very recently, and he has been unwell himself for years, some World War Two injury apparently. He will have to leave eventually, one way or the other. I just grit my teeth and pretend it’s not there. Heaven knows what it’s doing to the value of our property, but I guess we don’t want to sell. I don’t anyway.”
“Everything around here is so pretty,” I said. “It does rather stand out. Most of the houses are beautifully kept up. Orkney seems to be such a nice, orderly place, with really pleasant people.” As I spoke a cyclist hove into view and just as quickly disappeared. I was reasonably sure it was Percy, but there was nothing I could do about that at this very moment.
“It is pretty, and everyone is genuinely nice. I love it here. I wish I had friends, that’s all. People are very pleasant, but they don’t really warm to outsiders. I tried throwing a party when we first came here, but the only people who would come were tourists like me.”
“Maybe they were afraid they’d have to reciprocate. Your home is a little overwhelming, you have to admit.”
“Maybe,” she said. “I remain convinced they’ll get used to me eventually. But you’re here now and I’m so glad.”
The property itself was beautifully landscaped, taking real advantage of the rolling terrain. “Is that a golf course I’m looking at?” I said pointing out the side window.
“Sort of. It’s a driving range, and there’s a putting green down by the water. Robert is nuts about golf. I complained about being a golf widow, so he put this in so he could play here part of the time. Ridiculous I know. Drever spends more than half his time working on it, I swear. I don’t know what Robert was thinking.”
I laughed. “If he can afford it, why not?”
“He can afford it,” she said. “I can also tell you he loses most of his balls in the sea.”
We talked for a while, small talk really. Maya struck me as a little bit sad in some way, as if life hadn’t quite turned put the way she wanted it to. Most of us would kill to have a beautiful home in Orkney, another in Glasgow, and, apparently, a condo in Spain. This place in Orkney was her favorite she said. She’d stay all year long if she could, but her husband’s business dealings prohibited that.