Page 38 of Viking in Love

When the wall was clean enough, she ordered them to empty the bucket and rinse the dirty cloths in the stream outside the keep walls.

Walking into the kitchen, she saw a scene of serenity that could be taking place in their own Stoneheim kitchen, as well as here in a Saxon fortress. Drifa was tying together the stems of various flowers, which she would dry and later make into scented sachet pillows. Vana was polishing silver goblets and platters. Ingrith and two kitchen maids—with big breasts, of course—were arranging dozens of honeycombs that they had gathered that morning from conical hives located beyond the castle gardens.

The entire keep, even the outdoors, smelled of her sweet concoctions. Flies would be arriving from far and wide, drawn by the odor.

Amicia, the Larkspur cook, worked amiably beside Ingrith. Apparently, she had walked off sennights ago, aggrieved over the chaotic household and its numerous children always underfoot. She was back now that the sisters had established order.

Some of the whole honeycombs had been placed in a pottery jug with a tight cork stopper. But most were to be drained of their honey and the combs made into candles. Ingrith vowed that one day she would try to make the far-famed time-keeping candles that Adam’s aunt, Eadyth of Ravenshire, had perfected. They had been invented by King Alfred.

Caedmon might not be too happy when he found out that no mead would be made from this batch of honey. Plenty would come from the second and third harvests.

Ingrith handed Breanne a fire-heated knife and indicated that she should cut off the end caps and let the honey drain through a coarse-meshed cloth hung over a kettle. Once these combs were drained, Breanne handed them to one of the maids who mashed them to a pulp in a huge bowl. Then, once again, Breanne put the combs into a straining cloth over yet another kettle. This second strain of honey would be of a poorer quality, but still good for cooking and such. The end caps and mashed combs would be thoroughly rinsed and put aside for autumn candle making. Even that rinse water was put to good use.

All this was a ritual Breanne and her sisters were accustomed to, a joint effort required in any large keep if they wanted a sweetener for their meals or fine beeswax candles for light. Ingrith was an expert in this, as in all kitchen matters.

When Amicia and the maids left the kitchen for a few moments, going out to the well to get more buckets of water, Breanne quickly pulled Tyra’s parchment message from her apron flap. “Ivan and Ivar just returned from Hawkshire with a missive from Tyra.”

Her sisters stilled and turned, giving her full attention. The look of fright on Vana’s face was pitiful. She squeezed Vana’s hand and read:

My sisters:

We arrived safely. Adam is off to Ravenshire to enlist aid of his uncle, Lord Eirik, a member of the king’s Witan. Search parties are out looking, not just for the earl of Havenshire, but for Vana, as well. Adam fielded their questions well, but they may return.

Dunstan is on a rampage. For all our sakes, stay where you are until safe passage is arranged for home.

Godspeed and love,

Tyra

“We must stay here, then,” Ingrith said.

“But how can we? Lord Caedmon insists we must leave,” Breanne pointed out.

“Mayhap, with the six guardsmen he promised, we could make it to Father’s ship at Jorvik,” Vana offered hopefully.

“Or to Ravenshire. Surely Lord Eirik is powerful enough to withstand even Archbishop Dunstan’s threats.” This from Drifa.

“The problem is getting from here to there,” Breanne said. “It is a considerable distance, fraught with peril.”

“Well, the answer is clear,” Ingrith said, wiping her hands on a clean cloth and sitting down at the table with them. “We must convince Lord Caedmon that he should allow us to stay.”

“How would we do that?” Breanne asked.

“A plan,” Ingrith said. “What we need is a plan. Recall the plan we came up with for Tyra that one time?”

“That was a plan for Tyra to seduce Adam,” Breanne said indignantly. “Surely you are not suggesting that one of us should seduce this lout.”

Ingrith shrugged.

“I think it is a good idea.” Drifa was licking the honey off her fingers as she spoke.

“Oh, really? And who would be the one of us doing the seducing?” Breanne was not amused.

Everyone stared at her.

“Nay. Oh, nay, nay, nay! I would not know how, even if I were so inclined, and I am definitely disinclined.”

“We could pick straws,” Vana offered. “Nay, I should do it. After all, ’tis my fault we are in this mess.”