Page 128 of The Sun He Buried

“Good,” I say.

Baldr’s fists open. He turns back to me.

“I know he didn’t make the storm. He chose the delay that left us here for it.”

“You could have left without the silver,” Eirik says.

Baldr rounds on him. “Sólvik needs that silver.”

“Then Sólvik may wait until the road opens.”

Baldr throws both hands into the air.

He turns before I can catch his sleeve and heads toward the passage beside the hearth.

“Where are you going?”

“To see whether the stable roof is secure.”

“Baldr.”

He stops.

For one second I think he will turn around.

“I need to be useful somewhere,” he says.

Then he walks away.

The passage takes him from sight.

I stare after him.

Baldr came here because storehouse roofs need braces and the harbor needs a chain that will survive another winter. He spent four days watching other people count metal his territory should already have.

He has every right to be angry.

Eirik had eight missing bars and a late receipt. He checked the seals because every missing piece becomes somebody else’s broken roof.

That part still makes sense.

I would prefer one of them to be wrong about everything. It would make choosing who to argue with much easier.

Eirik folds the map once. “He’ll argue with the roof. The roof will remain unconvinced.”

Asta takes my cloak from my hands. “It has the advantage of not having to listen to you.”

Ketill coughs into his fist.

Eirik looks at her.

Asta looks back while she spreads my cloak over the end of a bench. “Was that unclear?”

His gaze narrows.

“I should go talk to Baldr.” I step toward the passage.

“Of course.” Eirik says it softly.