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“When will you leave for your mission?” she asked, her eyes closed, her head resting on the lip of the pool.
“Early morn. I will meet Finn in the stables of the tagmata.”
“And when you return, you will leave Byzantium. For where?”
“I am not certain. Finn and I will surely discuss this very subject whilst away. I have a longship that has been beached outside the city. It will be made sea ready in my absence. Mayhap the Orkneys. Mayhap somewhere in the Norselands. Mayhap even some estate near Stoneheim.”
Her eyes shot open, and she glared at him for bringing up the subject he’d promised to avoid.
“Just teasing. Just teasing.”
She gave him an extra glare for good measure and closed her eyes again. Sinking deeper in the water, she sighed and ran her fingers through the waters. She was relaxed. Too relaxed.
“You are not to worry, dearling. We will still have nights together on my return.”
“But not forty-two. Rather forty-one.”
“Come, Drifa, you have rested enough. Time to dry off and try something new.”
Her eyes were open now, and wary. “New?”
“ ’Twill be a surprise.” He rose from the water and used a long linen for drying himself, taking extra care as Drifa studied his body, despite herself. Then he walked to the other side and drew her upward. As he dried her body, he admired and commented on the various parts.
“Your skin is softer than Byzantine silk,” he said.
“But it is ofttimes grimy when I am gardening,” she said.
“Your breasts are the size of pomegranates and twice as sweet,” he said.
“More like overripe melons, squishy,” she said.
“Your maiden hair is like the combed fleece of a golden-haired sheep.”
“There is no such thing as a golden-haired sheep. Besides, raw wool is coarse and rough.”
“Your buttocks make me breathless.”
“Buttocks! Enough!” she finally protested. “Next you will be making praise odes to my toenails.”
“Now that you mention it ...”
She groaned.
He smiled. And he knew, because she’d told him so in a weak moment, that his smiles made her breathless. “Come, Drifa, there is something special I have planned for you.” For us, actually. For me, particularly.
He led her to the far side of the bathing pool where there was a wall panel that could be pushed inward. When it revolved, a massive slab of polished brass was on the other side, now facing them. It was taller than a man and twice as wide.
She gasped in wonder. “I have ne’er seen a brass mirror this size afore or one so highly polished as to be like a mirror.” Momentarily, she forgot that she stood nude before it. He knew the moment when she realized the state of her undress. “Oh, good gods!” She tried to cover herself with an arm across her breasts and a hand over her groin.
“Nay, Drifa, put your arms down. See yourself as I see you whilst I gather some things.”
Though continuing to gape at the wondrous mirror, she was still trying to cover herself when he returned with several oil lamps, two fat candles, and a small carved olivewood chest, inlaid on top with an ivory longship.
If she only knew, the view from the back was almost as good as from the front. Her legs were long and muscled from all her gardening, no doubt. Her buttocks were high and deliciously round. The curve of her hips accented her small waist, and the small of her back was indented and lovely. Sidroc had a particular fascination with the small of a woman’s back.
He lit the candles and lamps and arranged them on either side of the mirror, which added to the moonlight streaming into the room. It was almost as good as daylight.
“Dost think I would be able to purchase one of these brass mirrors here in Miklagard?”
