The Collector | 18+

【09】Curious and Curiouser

"Yeah, it's worth way too much to be a joke. It's legit to some extent. And the art is definitely Viking and matches Haakon's time period. Go check my computer. I've mapped the entire sword. You can zoom in on the details."

I did as instructed and sat behind his desk to look at the 3D reconstruction. Regardless of its origin, it was a remarkably beautiful piece. Very few swords had this level of detail and craftsmanship, and glancing at one in perfect condition was overwhelming. If it was Haakon's sword, then he was a lot more important to his people than I'd given him credit for. I'd never found any mention of him being considered a king or a jarl, but I was now wondering if he hadn't been one of those. No common soldier or mercenary could have amassed enough wealth to have not one, but two swords like this.

All those revelations prompted me to text Ian so he'd come take a look at it in person.

Five minutes later, the broad Scot was joining us in the lab. Henry was busy with the sword, so the first thing Ian noticed was the bracelet from Annie McCaine's crate, which was still on the central table.

With clear interest, he grabbed the jewel and brought it closer to his eyes. His glasses—roundish with thick black rims—hung on the retainer over his chest, so he used his free hand to place them on his nose, toward the tip of it.

"What's that? Copper?" he asked as he delicately wiped off some dirt with his thumb.

"No, there isn't any oxidation. Could be bronze."

"Look at the craftsmanship. Those details are exquisite." He pointed at an intricate curve engraved in the metal.

"It's definitely Viking. Have you seen the ribbons?"

"It might be a bit early, but I'd say it's from the Jelling style? Maybe Borre?"

I nodded.

"Was that in the McCaine crates?"

Another nod.

"What's the story behind this again?"

"Some old farmer named Robert McCaine died about a year ago," I reminded him, starting from the beginning. "And Annie McCaine, his granddaughter, inherited his farm. When she started going there a few months ago, she found a massive pile of what looked like old artifacts in his barn."

"Ah, yes. He found these as he was plowing his fields, didn't he?"

"Yep. Annie thinks he kept finding stuff, but that he told no one because he was worried archeologists and historians would bother him and temporarily put him out of a job. The bracelet puts us somewhere between 850 and the late tenth century, and there are mentions of a Viking settlement near where the farm is. I have to check, but I think it didn't exist for long—maybe five, six years."

"That would make it very brief, indeed. What happened?"

"Æthelstan ravaged southern Alba in 934. The attack was unprovoked, but it's theorized that it was to remind Constantine, King of Alba, who was boss. If the settlement was massacred and burned to the ground in the process, it could explain why so many things were left behind."

"It could, yes." He gave me a crooked smile. "It looks like the student is slowly but surely getting better than the master."

"You just have less brain cells because they started dying half a century ago," I teased.

"Ye cheeky lass... Did you make me come for the bracelet?"

"Actually, no. There was something much, much bigger in those crates, but I need you to keep an open mind," I urged him.

With an encouraging gesture of my hand, I guided him closer to Henry and the blade. "That's a bonnie sword ye've got there, Henry," he said. "Some reconstruction for the Medieval department?"

I shook my head.

He eyed it again from over his glasses. Of course, he didn't get the point right away, looking at us uncertainly for a moment. "Am I supposed to guess what this is? Renaissance, maybe Eastern Europe with that shape?"

I shook my head again, failing at containing my excitement. "It's as Viking as the bracelet you just looked at."

My mentor stared at me with doubt, his eyes probing mine, gauging my seriousness. Understandably, he was struggling to believe me.

"Is she taking the piss?" he asked Henry, before turning to me without expecting an answer. "Mila, have ye hit yer head running around like a madwoman? Vikings didn't wield two-handed weapons. Nobody did at that period."

I'd expected him to not believe me, so I dragged him to the other side of the lab, where my tablet was waiting with all the proof I needed. Henry, who already knew about all this, returned to the mysterious artifact.

Ian didn't interrupt as I explained to him everything I'd told Henry. I noticed the way shock appeared on his face when I showed him Orvyn's drawings. As historians, it was our job to use the clues from earlier times and try to make sense of them. But since most of our work was theoretical, we also had to be open to being wrong, and be willing to change our way of thinking and not remain camped on our ideas. So, like a good historian, Ian listened to me as I showed him the evidence I'd gathered so far.

Once I was done, he remained silent for a long moment, using my tablet to enlarge and examine Orvyn's work. He also turned to the sword, and Henry bent over it.

"So, what? You had Henry create a replica for your exhibit?" Ian confusedly asked.

"This isn't a replica, Ian. It was in the crate, covered in a layer of dirt and rust. If my theory's right, it comes from the ninth to tenth century."

His eyes traveled from me to Henry for a few moments, trying to understand what's going on. Eventually, a loud laugh ripped out of him.

"Alright, I get it now. Ye two are messing with me. Nice try, ye dobbers."

"Ian, I swear to God this isn't a joke," I pleaded. "It came with the crates yesterday, and it seems to come from the same fields as the rest."

"Nah, ye won't fool me, wee lass. I wasn't born yesterday. I'll go check the stuff from the crates instead, to see what we actually got."

Before I could say anything else, he left the room with a shake of his head, smiling as if we'd been joking the whole time. Stunned, I turned to Henry, who shrugged his shoulders.

"Honestly, I don't blame him. I might have reacted the same if I hadn't been with you the whole time. And I know you too well. You're a terrible actress; you could never have pulled this off."

"Well, thank you, I guess..." I muttered with a frown.

"But even though I know you're not responsible for this, it might still be a hoax. Let's tread carefully, yeah?"

"Yes, of course."

As I worked on more research to authentify the sword and make it legitimate, I couldn't help but try to come up with endless theories. There had to be an explanation as to what made this sword so special, so uniquely preserved. And while it did look like a bad prank, it was too valuable to be one. Something in my guts told me this sword was legit, that Haakon himself had held it in his hands.

Also, if someone as knowledgeable as Mr. Westergaard was interested in it, there had to be some legitimacy to it. Maybe he knew something we didn't. After all, he hadn't been nearly as surprised as us when Henry had uncovered the immaculate metal behind the layer of dirt. Hopefully, I'd meet him again in the near future, so I'd get to ask him more questions about the sword and why he so eagerly wanted it.