Page 145 of The Sun He Buried

His gaze returns to me.

We get back into bed around her. Baldr pulls me close. Snowpetal puts her club-tail over both our ankles and begins to purr.

For the first time since breakfast, Eirik makes a little sense.

Chapter Fifteen

Ketill is still laughing when Solveih takes her Sanguir and follows Baldr into the storm.

I give him one warning look.

Then I hit him in the shoulder hard enough to put him against the table.

The wood gives one heavy complaint.

He braces a hand on the table.

This doesn’t help.

“She moved you with one finger.”

“Three.”

He laughs harder.

The map beneath his other hand shifts. I pull it away before he spills himself across the ridge markings and creates more work.

“The stable roof remains unsecured,” I tell him.

“Baldr has gone to argue with it.” Ketill wipes one eye with the heel of his hand. His amusement presses against the mask, warm and entirely too pleased.

Solveih reaches the outer passage.

Anger comes first. Hers is bright, quick, and already losing ground to concern for my brother. Snowpetal adds nothing to the bond. The animal contributes by knocking into a bench somewhere beyond the doors.

A guard swears.

Solveih apologizes to him while she keeps running.

I fold the map and hand it to the nearest clerk. “Mark both closed roads. Send a copy to the lower watch and another to the stable crews.”

The clerk takes it. “Yes, my Dróttin.”

“Have every lantern inside before dark. Nobody goes past the market clearing without a rope.”

He bows and leaves.

Ketill watches him go. His laughter has finally reduced to an occasional failure of breath.

“Was there something else?” I ask.

“Several things.”

“Keep them.”

I cross the hall.

The storm hits the outer doors hard enough to shake snow through the frame. Servants move benches away from the draft. Three children have abandoned counting jars and begun building a fort from empty baskets. Their mother allows it because the shutters are secure and nobody has broken a bone yet.