Lord of the Seas by Sabrina Jarema

Author:Sabrina Jarema [Jarema, Sabrina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-07T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Rorik grimaced as he took a sip of the ale, then set the cup on the table.

Elfwynn held up the pitcher, giving him a sweet smile. “Would you like some more, Northman?”

He put his hand over the top of his cup so fast he nearly knocked it over. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I don’t need any more. You can go for the rest of the evening.”

“As you wish.” She left, trying not to laugh. The ale was awful, the food over-spiced, and the beer, a normally slightly sweet beverage because of the fruit in it, was like mead. A week had passed since she’d come back, and Vargfjell was slightly off kilter. It couldn’t be said that anything was horribly wrong. But nothing was right, either, and yet all through it Rorik just gritted his teeth and bore it.

Laundry floated down the fjord. Horses wound up in the longhouse one night. And that day, chickens had found their way into the rafters, making a mess with feathers everywhere. Rorik never said a word. He just shooed a protesting chicken off his seat when he sat down to dinner and plucked a feather off his plate. The cooking women used too much costly pepper in the stew and he’d quaffed a great deal of the sour ale, but he’d finished his food without comment.

“We can’t keep this up.” Oslafa met her at the door to the weaving room. Elfwynn rarely left it, except to do her chores. “At least not after Jarl Thorir comes, and he’s due any day. We can’t insult him and Vargfjell by serving less than the best.”

“I know. It doesn’t seem to be working anyhow. Rorik hasn’t said anything about it.”

“And that’s odd. He’s always demanded everything be a certain way. But he’s tolerating it all.”

“He’s plotting something.” Elfwynn went to her loom. “Some nefarious revenge. Or, this is his revenge. Keeping us guessing and wondering. He is the consummate strategist. I overheard the men planning this battle and they’ve said they can’t let the king know just what their numbers are until they engage. Perhaps that’s what he’s doing. Not showing anything until he strikes. He’s doing this, just to get at me.” She splayed her hand on the warp strings.

Oslafa grinned. “I think it’s working. He’s making you more insane by not reacting than if he came right back at you. If he did, that would just arm you even further.”

“I agree we can’t continue this while the jarl is here. And the chickens have to go. I’ll think of something more personal. Aimed only at him. That way, Thorir will see Vargfjell as it should be. But while they’re planning their war, I’ll be waging one of my own.”

By the time Jarl Thorir came, everything was set to rights. The livestock were back where they belonged and the longhouse was immaculate. A few feathers still clung to the underside of the roof where no one could reach them, but other than that, the hall sparkled.

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