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‘These markings tell a very interesting tale.’ He held out the brooch. ‘They’re the same trading code we use in the East. Lavrans’s name is on it.’
‘You can read them? They seem like gibberish to me.’ Bragi scratched his head. ‘But I’m not so good with runes.’
‘It would appear Sayrid was correct when she swore that there must be a traitor.’
‘We have been here weeks without incident.’
Hrolf stared at the sunlight playing on the waters of the harbour. Everything seemed at peace, but he refused to trust the calm. ‘We need to take steps before Lavrans strikes. I won’t squander this opportunity.’
‘Sayrid and her family…what of them? Will they be involved? Could the brother be the elusive traitor?’
‘No, Lavrans hated Ironfist with a passion.’ Hrolf rapidly explained the story Sayrid had told him.
‘What do you intend to do?’
‘I intend to take control of my hall and its fabled harbour as soon as possible. Whoever controls that will be able to dictate terms.’ Hrolf took the brooch back and pocketed it. If Lavrans hated Sayrid before for what her father had done, he would have even more cause for hatred now that she was married to Hrolf. ‘No one will take it from me.’
The other warrior’s face became troubled. ‘The jaarl is certain to want to keep the sister. If, as you say, Lavrans hates the family…you know what he is capable of.’
‘Developing a soft spot, Bragi?’
‘I admired Sayrid’s bravery earlier.’ The warrior did not meet Hrolf’s eye. ‘It takes a certain amount of courage to speak up. And to wear a dress like that. Trousers were wasted on her. By Thor, she has spirit.’
A surge of blood went to Hrolf’s head. ‘Bragi!’
The other man laughed. ‘I never thought to see the day when you’d react to a little teasing.’
‘I’ll speak to Kettil.’ Hrolf tossed the brooch in the air and concentrated on catching it as he forcibly put the anger from his mind. ‘Taking control of the headland becomes a priority, but our treaty with Kettil includes providing protection in case of attack. You remain here.’
The other warrior looked unhappy, but nodded his agreement. ‘I gave you my oath to obey.’
‘When you can, bring the girl to the hall. It is her home.’
‘How will you keep Sayrid from fighting if he does attack the hall?’
Hrolf lifted a brow. ‘My wife will obey me.’
‘Good luck with that. I’ve rarely met a stronger-willed woman.’
‘I will tame her, Bragi.’
* * *
Sayrid struggled with her needlework. Her silk kept tangling. She wanted to throw it down in disgust, but one glace at Inga and her perfect stitching showed her why she couldn’t. She wanted to make friends with her stepdaughter, only perhaps she had made the wrong choice. Sayrid gave the thread a yank and it snapped. She muttered a curse under her breath.
‘Perhaps my lady would rather be elsewhere,’ the nurse said with an inscrutable face.
Sayrid silently agreed, but being elsewhere was not an option. She’d given Hrolf her word. Hopefully Inga now saw that she wasn’t someone to be feared.
‘There is something wrong,’ she said with a frown. ‘My bit bears little resemblance to yours.’
‘It should be red there, not blue. We are embroidering my father’s badge,’ Inga remarked.
Sayrid struggled to control the scream welling up inside her. ‘I thought you said it was blue.’
Inga gave a deceptively innocent smile. ‘Oh dear. I made a mistake.’
‘On purpose?’
Inga hung her head. ‘Yes.’
‘How would you like it if I had done that to you?’
Inga’s startled gaze met hers. Sayrid returned it steadily. Inga was the first to look away.
‘Not much,’ she mumbled.
Playing tricks was progress of a sort. And she could clearly remember the sort of tricks her men had played on her during that first voyage. The non-response always worked best.
‘I will get this right now I know the correct pattern.’ Sayrid gritted her teeth and unpicked the work for the third time.
‘What is happening here?’ Hrolf’s voice called out. ‘I never thought I’d see a former shield maiden contentedly sewing fine linen.’
‘Appearances can be deceptive,’ Sayrid muttered.
Inga jumped up, spilling the silks to the ground as she ran to her father. He picked her up and spun her around as she shrieked.
Sayrid leant down to pick the threads up, hoping it would give her time to have her heart rate return to normal. ‘My lord. You will see that I can keep my promises.’
