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“Be that as it may, I will have words with the rogue, you can be sure of that. What say you to Evergreen as a dower for you, dearling? ’Tis a small estate I own south of here. Still in the Norselands, but somewhat warmer in climate. Your flowers would grow better there.”
“And you could get some of that camel shit out of the stable,” Vana, the traitor, added. “It smells worse than horse manure.”
As if no one else had spoken, the king went on, “I have promised Stoneheim to Rafn and Vana, as you know, Drifa, and a steading cannot have two jarls without enmity.”
Who said anything about two jarls, or that there would be a wedding? My father’s head is thicker than a berserker’s shield, despite his having been drilled.
And still her father went on, “That way, you and Sidroc would have your own home at Evergreen.”
Drifa put her face in her hands.
“You could give Sidroc more children, preferably sons. You are not breeding now, are you? Do not scowl at me so. I am just asking. In any case, you could pop out babies, and Sidroc could go on being a warrior, or a farmer, or a trader, or whatever he decides for his future. But a husband he will be. What think you, Ivar? Last time you were at Evergreen, what was its condition?”
As her father rambled on, she grew more and more furious. Why wouldn’t he listen to her? “Aaarrgh!” was the best she could get out.
Just then, Rafn walked in. “I have news,” he said.
A maid handed him a cup of mead, and he sat down beside his wife. “A ship heads this way. ’Tis Jarl Gunter Ormsson from Vikstead.”
“Drop the drawbridge,” her father whooped joyfully.
Never mind that they had no drawbridge. Or moat, either.
“ ’Twould seem I am going to get my battle, after all.” To a passing housecarl, he yelled, “Where’s my favorite sword? Nay, bring me Skull Crusher, instead. And my helmet and shield. Call up the troops.”
Drifa would have been concerned, except that it was more important that she go hide Runa. And any evidence of her trip to Vikstead five years before, like Eydis, the former Vikstead wet nurse, now chambermaid at Stoneheim.
Why couldn’t her life be nice and calm and boring, like other princesses?
He made Simon Legree look like SantaClaus ...
It was a lost cause, hiding Runa, because Gunter Ormsson knew full well that his granddaughter was alive and living at Stoneheim. Apparently some passing traveler had noticed Eydis one time when visiting Stoneheim and mentioned her being here. The jarl figured out the rest.
If only Sidroc were here to protect his daughter, and Drifa and her sisters, from this evil man, who was demanding not just Runa, but restitution for the stealing of his grandchild.
Gunter and two of Sidroc’s older brothers, Svein and Bjorn, had been here since yesterday morning, and a sorrier lot there never had been. Maids complained about gropings and outright demands for bedmates. Various Stoneheim soldiers had been insulted and were threatening violence.
They needed to get the vile miscreants out of Stoneheim. Without Runa.
“Your daughters committed a crime, and should be forced to pay wergild for their crimes, just like anyone else,” Gunter said, sitting across from them, with his sons, at a table in the great hall.
Her father, Rafn, Vana, and Ivar bracketed her on the other side. Runa had been brought forth to meet her grandfather earlier today, but like a dog that sensed a bad person, the little girl screamed and cried to get down from his lap. Ormsson had muttered something about “Females need to be put their place. All the child needs is a good switching to teach her what is what.”
Drifa shuddered to think of what Runa’s life would be like in this man’s household. “Our crimes are no worse than yours. In fact, some might say we prevented your far greater crime.”
“What crime?” Ormsson and his sons sputtered.
“You were going to kill the baby,” she said.
“Says who?”
“Your son Sidroc.”
Ormsson made a dramatic show of glancing all around the hall. “I do not see Sidroc here. In fact, he has not been seen for some time. Some say he died, mayhap even at the hands of your healer, King Thorvald.”
“You go too far, Ormsson,” her father said, his voice steely with outrage.
“Besides, the law says a man has a right to do what he wills with his own family,” Ormsson continued. “Let us call out a Thing-bidding over the land. Let the Thing court decide what is just.”
