SWNOVELS Chapter 24
The Savoy was a virtual palace in the eyes of the Norsemen. They walked gingerly through the lobby afraid their combined weight might crush any of the numerous pieces of finery scattered about the opulently accoutered atrium. They were met by a small army of staff that was militantly intent on carrying out the King’s request above and beyond what was expected of them. All of the Norsemen, with the exception of Olaf and Kalf, were shown to their rooms on the reserved fourth floor. Olaf and his son were conveyed to the fifth floor, Royal Suite, which alone took up the entire floor. As they wandered through the richly furnished rooms, Olaf could not help but feel a king himself. The view from the master bedroom was enough to give a man a sense of ruling over the entire world. Through the window the Thames River, with London spread out along it as far as the eye could see, wound its serpentine course. Father and son gazed with wonder at the scene, neither of them moving for quite some time.
Once they were all settled, a caravan of carts was wheeled onto the fourth floor, making stops at each room and depositing such large amounts of delicious food and drink, one would think the Savoy, Valhalla on earth. Throughout the next few hours, the Norsemen wandered back and forth from each of the rooms, visiting, eating, and regaling in their good fortune as men favored by a king. Olaf and Kalf, though receiving their own food in the Royal Suite, sought out the fellowship of their fellow Norsemen, and spent most of their time before retiring to bed among their brother warriors. Major Penbrooke kept pace with his Norse companions surprisingly well, matching them tale for tale and glass for glass. Finally, when their bodies could no longer resist the alluring pull of the soft, comfortable beds, each of them wandered off to surrender themselves to sleep and dreams of home.
The Captain, who acted as their escort the previous evening, was at the Savoy at first light, to rouse the Norsemen from their beds. After seeing that they received a satisfying breakfast, and were sufficiently cleaned and groomed, he herded them all back to the same red bus that sat faithfully idling at the curb. They were driven back to Charing Cross Station, where yet another private car sat ready to carry them back to Barrow-in Furness. For most of the men, the time was spent napping or idly gazing out of the window at the landscape as it flashed by. Their last few days back in England had been a blur of activity and it was pleasant now to just relax.
Olaf could not help but occupy his mind with thoughts of what might transpire next in this impossible saga they were living. He had expressed to his men his certainty that this divine appointment might result in their imminent return to their own time. Ever in the forefront of his thoughts though, was the possibility that they may have to live out the rest of their days here. This caused Olaf great concern and apprehension. Many times throughout the long journey back to where it all started, the Norseman found himself lapsing into prayer as he sought the intervention of the Christ. Inevitably, his thoughts always swung back to optimism. Faith had been the catalyst that sent them into France; it would just as easily be the vehicle through which they had to trust they would smile upon and embrace their families once again. Olaf had seen what faith could do far too many times to surrender to despair. He would, by example, continue to hold to hope whatever might happen.