Page 121 of Viking in Love

Little soldiers are allowed to fight dirty…

It was the middle of the night, and Caedmon slipped on a pair of braies and naught else, going down to the hall to get a cup of ale. Mayhap that would help him fall asleep.

He was surprised to see Lord Ravenshire sitting alone before a low fire, sipping a cup of ale. After Caedmon found a pitcher and cup, he sat down next to him.

“Is something amiss?” he asked.

Eirik shook his head. “Nay. I get head megrims betimes, and a cup of my wife’s mead often soothes the pain. I was just about to go back to our bed.” He studied Caedmon for a moment. “How about you? Something troubling you?”

He shrugged, then admitted, “Breanne.”

“And?”

Is that not enough? “I care for her.” He chose his words carefully.

“Does she not return the sentiment?”

He laughed. “I think she does, but not at the moment.” More like, she would carve me into a chair if she could.

“I see the way you look at each other when you think no one is looking.”

“Everyone says that.” I must practice not looking at her so much.

“Ask the lady to marry you.” Eirik’s suggestion was blunt and unexpected. “That is what this is all about, is it not?”

At first Caedmon resisted answering. It was none of Eirik’s business, after all. But the man was only trying to be helpful.

“I have been wed twice afore. Disasters.” They were right when they named it wed-LOCK and referred to the BONDS of matrimony.

“That happens betimes.”

“I have ten children.”

“Congratulations.”

He shot Eirik a glare. “’Tis naught to be congratulated over. Besides, they are not all mine.” And someday I am going to find those three Welsh brothers. But, nay, those three whelps have been with me too long. They are more mine than theirs now.

Eirik waited for him to say more.

“I do not want to marry again. I do not want any more children. I want a life of peace and tranquility.”

“You keep saying I want, I want. This is not all about you.”

He sighed. “You are right. I am being selfish.”

“Life is all about balances, in my opinion. Good and bad.

“We have choices and they are not always the ones we want to make. Mayhap you need to weigh all the good things that would come from marriage to Breanne against the bad things. See what the scales show then. Compromise is not a bad word.”

“That is good advice.” He laughed then. “But far too late.”

“’Tis ne’er too late.”

“My only saving grace tonight is that Rashid is not here to give me a camel proverb.”

“You think that is bad. You should meet my friend Bolthor, the world’s worst skald. He would be telling sagas about all your embarrassing events to one and all. He once wrote a saga about my brother’s cock.”

Laughing, Caedmon stood and downed the rest of his ale in one long swallow before heading for the downstairs garderobe to relieve himself. Then he would go back to his bed and, hopefully, sleep.