Her Rogue Viking by Ashe Barker

Author:Ashe Barker [Barker, Ashe]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2017-03-30T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“We have visitors, Brynhild. There shall be feasting this night.” Ulfric stepped through the entrance of the longhouse to regard the members of his household. His sister was at her loom, as usual, and the thralls milled about at their everyday tasks. Fiona sat at the table with Hilla, the pair of them bent over a hank of rough sheep’s fleece. All turned to look at him.

“Visitors? Who?” Brynhild laid down her shuttle. “We have salted mutton in the stores, and there is some good cod…”

“Well, set it over the stove. Quickly now, they are almost here.”

“Who?”

“Our brother approaches over the south meadow. He has men with him and others of his household.”

“How many?” Already Brynhild was rushing to inspect her barrels of fermented mead and baskets of produce harvested in recent weeks. Beans, turnips, carrots—Ulfric knew she would complain and fuss, but there would be ample for all. Brynhild’s hospitality was second to none.

“A dozen, perhaps a couple more. Fiona, you will assist with the food since you have some aptitude for cooking. We will serve it in here…” His instructions issued, he wheeled around to make his way down to the edge of the settlement to greet his brother.

Gunnar’s visits were infrequent, and Ulfric was always glad to see him though the pair would argue and bait each other without mercy during the entire encounter. It was as well they did not share a home, they would tear each other apart, but he could survive an occasional foray into the battlefield of filial affection.

His brother’s dark figure was instantly recognisable at the head of the troop of men who rode toward Skarthveit. They had two wagons with them also. Perhaps his brother had thought to bring supplies to replenish those he and his men would undoubtedly diminish during the course of his stay. As the convoy neared, Ulfric could see that the carts carried more people. Women? Children? More mouths to feed, as Brynhild would without doubt observe soon enough. His sister was not as close to Gunnar as he was, but the two got along well enough and he knew Brynhild would not begrudge the fare though she would have plenty to say. She always did.

“Brother, what brings you here? Am I to assume those hovels and caves you choose to inhabit are becoming too chilly for your old bones?” he called out to Gunnar as soon as the other man was within earshot. Gunnar’s own settlement lay perhaps two days’ ride to the north and whilst his accommodations might be rougher that those at Skarthveit, to describe his brother’s longhouse as a hovel or cave was stretching the truth somewhat, but such a detail would never deter Ulfric.

“Nay, but I thought we might descend upon you to while away a pleasant evening or two afore the winter sets in. Failing that, I can always pour ale down your gullet and best you at cards.”

Gunnar slid from his horse and wrapped Ulfric in a tight hug.

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