Serve the Worthy by Megan Formanek

Author:Megan Formanek
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Viking Historical Fiction, Heroine's Journey, Historical Fiction, Historical Adventure, Action and Adventure, Fiction, New Adult Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, Historical Viking Romance, Viking Romance
Publisher: Life Itinerant Publishing
Published: 2024-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Two

Ellisif and I filled cups on the small table next to the Grand Prince, who was engaged in a heated game of Hnefatafl with my husband. A few men, including Ellisif’s brothers Harald and Helgi, and one of Oleg’s most trusted advisors, Boyar Sveineld Sveineldsson or Sveineld the Younger, as most people called him, sat drinking on the sidelines. They watched the Grand Prince’s every motion as he attacked Kjarr’s king.

‘That’s a good move!’ a tall, good-looking warrior congratulated Oleg as he raised his cup to salute him. Those beside him echoed the praise.

Grand Prince Oleg waved their words away. ‘Boyar Hrolfsson is a tough opponent. I need to think.’ He stroked his chin while considering his next move.

Ellisif bent over Oleg’s shoulder, holding the jug in her hands to refill his cup.

‘Would you bring me luck, sweet Ellisif?’ he asked, looking up at her flushed face.

‘The gods favour you without my intercession, Knyaz,’ she answered, sweeping low to bow.

But he persisted, ‘Endow this piece with your goodness so I might best Boyar Hrolfsson.’ He held a small carved playing piece forward.

Ellisif lowered her head, pressing her lips to it as Oleg watched on with hungry eyes.

‘I thank you,’ he replied once he mastered himself. ‘Would you fill Hrolfsson’s cup also?’

That was my job, the reason I was here; to serve my husband. But the shock of Oleg’s blatant pursuit of Ellisif had me rooted to the spot. It seemed the same effect had overcome Ellisif, for she moved neither.

Someone took the ewer from my hands, and a swirl of skirts passed me on their way to complete my duties.

‘I will do it, Grand Prince,’ came the small voice of Alfrunr, Oleg’s niece, sister to Igor and a beauty though she did all to hide herself. Her hair, the colour of deep honey, went unbound, as did most maids. Though her blue eyes were downcast, all could see her fine pointed chin, smooth brow, and small nose as she hovered over my husband’s cup, amber mead pouring from its spout.

The young men on the benches watched her, eyes roving over her uncovered wrists and face. Alfrunr, yet unwed, would not be a wife to any of them. As the only living daughter of the previous ruler Rurik, she was reserved for the highest of unions. Yet, they could dream.

Alfrunr and Ellisif, their duties now complete, excused themselves to the shadows, lit by the soft light of braziers. Ellisif’s cheeks were red by the time she lifted her sewing from the basket she’d left on the bench.

‘Ellisif?’ I whispered, sitting next to her. ‘Are you all right?’

She didn’t look up as she wove her sharp needle through the collar of a linen tunic. Her mouth curved into a smile, and I left her to her thoughts.

It was Alfrunr who broke our silence. ‘I’m sorry it’s me tonight,’ she began, her voice hardly a whisper. ‘Inga would normally serve her brother, but she has taken ill. My uncle commands me to show my face at court, though I’d prefer to be with Igor in the nursery,’ she told me.

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