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By the grin on his face, she could tell that he read her mind.
Ianthe watched the silent exchange between the two of them with interest. Then she addressed Drifa, “Princess Drifa—”
“Please, Ianthe, just call me Drifa.”
“Speaking of jewels, Drifa,” Ianthe began again with a smile, “what is that stone about your neck?”
“Ianthe is a jewelry maker,” explained Finn, who had been occupied thus far with a woman on his other side ... a woman whose husband was getting redder and redder in the face, either from excess wine or Finn’s attentions to his spouse. In either case, ’twas best that Finn find another object for his affections.
“It is amber,” Drifa told Ianthe, noticing for the first time the intricately crafted silver chain hanging from her neck like a spiderweb interspersed with pale blue stones. Pretty, loose wrist rings, also of silver, adorned both arms. She wore gold-braided sandals, the type of open shoe men and women alike favored in this warm climate.
Ianthe really was a beautiful woman, with golden eyes and light brown hair center-parted and coiled on either side of her head in the Greek fashion, all complemented by her long, sleeveless, green silk tunic in a style the Greeks called a chiton. Her skin had the olive cast of a true Byzantine.
In addition, Drifa noticed that the matching ear ornaments that Ianthe wore hung from pierced ears. Drifa did not know many women who put holes in body parts, in her part of the world, leastways. Some men did, though, especially sailors, which Vikings were. To some, it was a sign that they had traveled around the world. To others, it was payment for burial in the event they died at sea or in battle.
“Amber? Really?” Ianthe appeared fascinated. “I always thought amber was yellow or orange in color.”
“Actually, amber comes in many colors,” Thork interjected. “My father is a far-famed amber harvester and trader. I have seen amber clear as rain, yellow, orange, red, brown, green, blue, and even black, which is actually just dark shades of all these other colors.”
Everyone looked at Thork with surprise. He was usually so frivolous. ’Twas hard to see him as a serious student of anything but play.
“We call it the Gold of the North,” Drifa added.
“The most interesting amber has a small insect in it, or bits of a flower or leaf. Look at this one.” Thork pulled an oval piece of amber the size of a flattened egg out of a side placket in his braies. It was yellow in color with flower petals inside forming a cross. “I carry it for luck.”
“Like worry beads,” Ianthe remarked.
“Exactly. I worry a lot,” Thork said, winking at Ianthe.
Sidroc made a snorting sound of disgust, but Ianthe just smiled at Thork. The rascal.
“Actually, Ianthe, I have brought the emperor a gift of amber, a dozen stones of varying shades,” Drifa said. “My meeting with him is not until tomorrow afternoon. Wouldst like to see them before that?”
“I would love to.” Ianthe beamed at her offer. “But why not come to my shop so that I can show you my handiwork. It is located just outside the palace gates, walking distance. We can break fast and talk.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Ianthe gave her directions.
Sidroc looked as if he’d swallowed a sour apple at the prospect of his mistress and former betrothed becoming friends.
Wulf and the others just laughed, except for Alrek, who was still gaping at Ianthe with cow-eyed adoration. “I could accompany you, Princess Drifa,” Alrek offered. Sidroc snorted again.
Alrek was a man who talked with his hands. He was also not known as Alrek the Clumsy for nothing. No one was surprised when one of his hands hit a goblet and wine flew everywhere, dousing his companions.
It was touching to see the way Alrek’s friends covered for him, pretending not to see another example of his clumsiness. Would he ever outgrow it? Hardly, since he must have seen close to twenty and two winters already.
“Dost think you could arrange for your father to sell me some of his amber?” Ianthe asked Thork, trying to get attention away from red-faced Alrek, who was attempting to mop up his mess and making more of a mess of it. “I have worked with just about every stone there is, from crystals to diamonds, but not amber.”
“Certainly,” Thork said. “I will come to your shop with Drifa, if you wish ... to give you more information.”
He was fooling no one on the type of information he would like to convey, along with details about his father’s trading merchandise.
“Me too,” Alrek said again. “Princess Drifa will need extra protection in the busy marketplace.”
Alrek, too, was fooling no one.
Oddly, Sidroc exhibited no jealousy over the men’s interest in his mistress, although he did snipe, “Why don’t we all come?”
