Enthralled: Viking Lore, Book 1 by Emma Prince

Author:Emma Prince [Prince, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Historical, Ancient World, Medieval, Viking, Historical Romance
Amazon: B012OV39QO
Published: 2015-08-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

“Old Asta claims she’s never seen an utlending learn the Viking way of weaving so quickly.”

Alaric moved aside so that Laurel could pass into Eirik’s cottage. She smiled at him as she glided by, as if she understood the praise Alaric was passing on. By the gods, she just might understand, for she was learning their language so quickly that even Eirik was caught off-guard at times.

Laurel had smiled more in the last sennight than Eirik had seen in the previous fortnight. They had fallen into a comfortable routine, with her spending her days on various tasks around the village and him training with the other warriors. In the mornings and evenings they would talk in his language, haltingly at first but with increasingly more fluidity.

“I’m surprised the old woman still knows any words of praise,” Eirik said, drawing a chuckle from Alaric. In truth, Asta was one of the most respected elderly women in the village. It was a high mark of honor to Laurel to receive such words.

Though she’d said she didn’t know how to weave or cook or do aught besides the most menial tasks, each day in the last sennight she returned to his cottage, either at his side or guided by Madrena or Alaric, with tales of all she’d learned that day.

Indeed, in a sennight’s time, Laurel had apparently learned how weave, dress and smoke a slain deer, and even fish—from the safety of the docks, of course. As Eirik walked to and from the training grounds tucked in the mountains behind the village, he often heard snippets of gossip about the utlending thrall who was a quick learner and a hard worker.

Though he refused to accept the idea that he owned her, he felt a swell of pride in his chest for her success. Of course, some of the villagers grumbled that she was only finally seeing to the duties she should have been doing all along as a thrall. Yet most took their cue from Eirik and accepted the leniency with which he treated her.

“Besides gossip from Asta,” Alaric said, stepping into the cottage, “I’ve brought you another treat.” He removed the hand he held behind his back to reveal an ornately carved box.

Eirik grinned widely at his friend. “Are you sure you want to be embarrassed again?”

Alaric scoffed. “If you’re lucky, I’ll allow you to look good in front of Laurel before I take you.”

Eirik dragged out his wooden table and each of the benches on either side.

“What is that?” Laurel said, eyeing the box as Alaric set it down on the table. She had been about to sit down to hem another borrowed dress from Madrena but was clearly curious.

Alaric lifted a tiny peg on the outside of the box, and it opened to reveal several carved pieces of wood, each the size of a thumb. He then flipped the opened box over to form a board.

“Hnefatafl,” Eirik said to her. “King’s Table. ’Tis a game.”

“How do you play?” She’d all but forgotten her stitch work now and approached the table.

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