Smith's Hammer by Joyce Holt

Author:Joyce Holt [Holt, Joyce]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2018-08-18T23:00:00+00:00

34 – Orange and Purple

Gwen braced her shoulders and stared back, rankled by the scornful look. She smiled, her cheeks tight with the effort. "My name is Gwen ferch Draig of Rafnsnip. And you are?"

"I am Thora Eyvindsdotter," the beauty purred. "Welcome to Maurr's Thwaite. Are you looking for Trystan?"

It jolted Gwen to find this haughty young woman the only person among the Northfolk who bothered to listen closely enough to a Bryt name to give it the proper sounding out. "Yah, I am," she said.

"I was just off to fetch him some soothing broth. Do go in quietly, won't you? Scat, you noisy monsters!" She strolled away, flapping her hands at the children.

The youngsters made faces behind her back, then one grabbed Gwen's hand. "In here," the child whispered, and led her through the open-air room of the forge to a chamber in the rear.

It stank of vomit. Gwen wrinkled her nose and felt her way forward in the dark. "Trystan?" she murmured, and went on in Bryt. "Where are you?"

"Here," croaked a voice from the corner.

By touch Gwen found an arm draped over the edge of a wooden sleeping platform. She took it and rubbed in comfort, but it hung limp in her hands. Its owner snored. "Trys?" she asked, confused. "Your arm—"

"Meet Leiknarr," Trystan mumbled, from beyond the snorer. "I only drank half what he did, so I get to wake up to misery all the sooner."

Gwen drew breath to launch into a scolding but gagged on the smell, and while she was choking managed to bite off her sharp words.

"Ai-ai, Northish ale, powerful stuff," he groaned. "Won't be doing that again."

"I wish you hadn't done it even once. Thora went for broth. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Nay. Just let me wallow here a while longer."

"Better your head should split with the pounding of ale-ache than to the swing of a dwarf's axe. Sleep if you can. I'll come back later with a rushlight and clean up."

"I doubt you'll be needing a rushlight. I can tell from the pitch of your voice that your eyes are blazing."

She leaned across the rasping Leiknarr, felt for Trystan's hand and held it tight. "Am I angry? Indeed I am. I fretted all night. But I'm also relieved. I'm glad your head is in one piece, though it may be feeling otherwise to you."

He gripped her fingers, but before he could speak Thora came in with a bowl of broth.

"This should help settle your belly, Trystan," she said, her voice all soft sweetness. "Oh, are you still here, Kvenn? They are fixing you a meal in the cookhouse. Off with you now!"

Her tone made Gwen's cheeks burn and muscles clench.

"Ow," Trystan mumbled. "Let go my hand."

"Who does she think she is?" Gwen asked in Bryt. "Queen of the mountains? Dismissing me like a child!"

"Your language is so lovely!" Thora gushed. "Like a song. You must teach me some phrases. Later, shall we?"

"Are you Maurr's daughter?" Gwen asked in Northish speech.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.