told her she would not win the argument, and in truth, she would be glad to see him gone. But then he sat again. He laughed at her smirk. Perhaps it meant nothing to him that he was a sort of hostage under her roof. Yet if the brother came for him, she could not stop him from leaving, so it made little difference. The giant blond would make good his threat.
That was what she hated most. She was just as helpless as she would have been, had the attack been outright. Silently she picked up a wooden bowl and dipped out broth from the mutton that simmered in the pot on the hearth. She held it out to him.
He shook his head. "No more. I will have food now."
"This is good enough for us. It is good enough for your kind."
"Nay. I mean no disrespect, for you have been kind. But Egil is here, and he will bring us something."
He had no more refused her when the door burst open. The huge blond entered, ducking his head to avoid scraping the lentil. Behind him, clouds of the newest arriving storm menaced them. Across his shoulders swung a mixed brace of wildfowl. In one hand he carried a bow which he unstrung and set beside the door as casually as if he lived there, and in the other hand, a ham hock, shrunken and dark with smoke, its tantalizing salty sweetness drifting to her nostrils.
"Barbarian," said Birgit, almost spitting. "Can you not even knock before you beset us with your presence?"
"Knock on the door, Egil," said Ronan. "Please the harpy."
Egil shrugged his shoulders, and rapped his fist against the door, then slapped the ham and ducks on the table.
Arienh jumped. She had promised herself she would not do that. Egil's lips stretched thin across his teeth.
"I suppose you expect us to cook that for you," Birgit said, her voice like a snake's hiss.
"Do what you want with them. But you are women. I thought it fair to assume you would cook them first."
Egil's big hand pushed down against the table's corner and frowned at its wobble. "You did not fix this, Ronan?"
"I was going to get around to it."
Of course. From his sickbed. What sort of banter was this?
"Aye. Well, I'll look at it after the meal. And the roof has holes big enough to see the clouds. You are remiss, brother."
"Perhaps tomorrow. I've been occupied."
"You're not staying," Arienh said, hoping it sounded like a command.
"Cannot finish the thatch tonight," said Egil, almost as if he apologized. "The storm will break any moment. I'll sleep with my brother."
Arienh's gaze caught Birgit's, wide with indignant horror, then turned on Ronan who sat at the bed's edge, his mouth quirking, eyes sparkling.
"Come outside," she said, taking Birgit's arm by the elbow.
"Outside? I vow they'll have taken over our home before we come back in the door."
"Outside," Arienh insisted.
"Nay, I'll not let-"
"Out." For emphasis, Arienh grasped Liam's hand and tugged him out, away from the Vikings the boy found so intriguing, nearly shoving both him and his mother through the door.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Birgit whirled on her. "Arienh, you have toadied to that Viking long enough, and now this irksome brother of his. Do not think I will bow and scrape to the likes of them."
"Hush. Use your head, Birgit. They are teasing us."
"Teasing. If you have not noticed, they have moved in."
"And there isn't a lot we can do about it, short of growing huge muscles on great, hairy arms. Ignore their goading, Birgit, or it will get worse. The dark one has gotten much better since this morning, and he is likely to live. That is good. I would not want the other one taking out his anger on us if his brother dies. I have never seen a man so big."
"I am not afraid of him."
She wasn't. Birgit feared nothing unless it threatened someone else. That was part of the problem.
"I do not want to take chances. Perhaps if we just let them have their little jokes, they will go away when the dark one is well. Whatever you do, don't make them mad."
"Don't make them mad. 'Tis you who
That was what she hated most. She was just as helpless as she would have been, had the attack been outright. Silently she picked up a wooden bowl and dipped out broth from the mutton that simmered in the pot on the hearth. She held it out to him.
He shook his head. "No more. I will have food now."
"This is good enough for us. It is good enough for your kind."
"Nay. I mean no disrespect, for you have been kind. But Egil is here, and he will bring us something."
He had no more refused her when the door burst open. The huge blond entered, ducking his head to avoid scraping the lentil. Behind him, clouds of the newest arriving storm menaced them. Across his shoulders swung a mixed brace of wildfowl. In one hand he carried a bow which he unstrung and set beside the door as casually as if he lived there, and in the other hand, a ham hock, shrunken and dark with smoke, its tantalizing salty sweetness drifting to her nostrils.
"Barbarian," said Birgit, almost spitting. "Can you not even knock before you beset us with your presence?"
"Knock on the door, Egil," said Ronan. "Please the harpy."
Egil shrugged his shoulders, and rapped his fist against the door, then slapped the ham and ducks on the table.
Arienh jumped. She had promised herself she would not do that. Egil's lips stretched thin across his teeth.
"I suppose you expect us to cook that for you," Birgit said, her voice like a snake's hiss.
"Do what you want with them. But you are women. I thought it fair to assume you would cook them first."
Egil's big hand pushed down against the table's corner and frowned at its wobble. "You did not fix this, Ronan?"
"I was going to get around to it."
Of course. From his sickbed. What sort of banter was this?
"Aye. Well, I'll look at it after the meal. And the roof has holes big enough to see the clouds. You are remiss, brother."
"Perhaps tomorrow. I've been occupied."
"You're not staying," Arienh said, hoping it sounded like a command.
"Cannot finish the thatch tonight," said Egil, almost as if he apologized. "The storm will break any moment. I'll sleep with my brother."
Arienh's gaze caught Birgit's, wide with indignant horror, then turned on Ronan who sat at the bed's edge, his mouth quirking, eyes sparkling.
"Come outside," she said, taking Birgit's arm by the elbow.
"Outside? I vow they'll have taken over our home before we come back in the door."
"Outside," Arienh insisted.
"Nay, I'll not let-"
"Out." For emphasis, Arienh grasped Liam's hand and tugged him out, away from the Vikings the boy found so intriguing, nearly shoving both him and his mother through the door.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Birgit whirled on her. "Arienh, you have toadied to that Viking long enough, and now this irksome brother of his. Do not think I will bow and scrape to the likes of them."
"Hush. Use your head, Birgit. They are teasing us."
"Teasing. If you have not noticed, they have moved in."
"And there isn't a lot we can do about it, short of growing huge muscles on great, hairy arms. Ignore their goading, Birgit, or it will get worse. The dark one has gotten much better since this morning, and he is likely to live. That is good. I would not want the other one taking out his anger on us if his brother dies. I have never seen a man so big."
"I am not afraid of him."
She wasn't. Birgit feared nothing unless it threatened someone else. That was part of the problem.
"I do not want to take chances. Perhaps if we just let them have their little jokes, they will go away when the dark one is well. Whatever you do, don't make them mad."
"Don't make them mad. 'Tis you who
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