are mad, Arienh."
Arienh felt her blood growing hot. Sometimes she grew weary of everyone's constant expectation that she solve all their problems. "Very well, then, Birgit, tell me what you would have me do."
"Get rid of them."
"That's not good enough, as I am trying. Tell me how to get rid of them. Would you like for me to challenge them to a sword fight? Perhaps I could persuade them to let me take them one at a time, all twenty of them."
Birgit bit her lips together. Her gaze dropped to the ground.
Arienh felt the sudden sting of guilt for her temper. "I am sorry. I know how hard it is for you, Birgit. But we only have the two of them in our house. At least we can manage them, as they are trying to be agreeable."
"Agreeable." Birgit sneered.
"Aye. For their kind, anyway. Do you see them ordering us about, or throwing us down on our beds?"
Both women glanced suddenly at Liam, and the boy flinched. Sometimes they forgot just how aware he was of his origins. How could he not be, in these harsh times? Even at his young age, he had seen women raped and murdered. Arienh was instantly sorry for her bluntness. She put her arm around his shoulder.
"Aye. It is a simple matter," she said to Birgit. "The big one would already have taken his brother away if he could have. If we help them get out of here, they will leave sooner. And he has brought food, Birgit. Think of the ham. We have not even seen a live pig in two years. And ducks. Come, we can set water to boiling and have them plucked for tomorrow's meal."
"I just cannot stand the sight of them, Arienh. But I am sorry. Come, I can at least pluck ducks. Liam can help."
Arienh smiled, relieved. Now if she could just get the brothers to behave themselves. But from what she'd already seen of them, she had about as much chance of that as she did of setting those dead ducks back to flying.
She watched the two men raise eyebrows at each other as the women passed through the cottage door. Birgit, for once not glaring at the strangers, busied herself with slicing up the last of the roots for cooking. Arienh lifted two wooden buckets and opened the door. A sudden flash of lightning startled her.
"I'll go," said Egil, and she was more than glad to let him.
Liam pulled at his mother's skirts. "Mama, can I go?"
"Nay."
"He can help me." But Egil, faced down by the icy green fury in Birgit's eyes, grimaced and went out the door alone. Arienh laughed to herself. Perhaps not even a fierce Viking was a match for a mother’s protective ire.
Liam's face screwed up into a pout. It had been a long time since he had been around men. She hoped his curiosity would not grow too great, yet how could it not? Liam could not be separated from his insatiable lust for knowledge. One more reason she hoped the Vikings would be gone soon.
Egil returned along with the storm, with rumbling thunder behind him, and rivulets running down his hair and into his soaked jerkin. He yanked off the garment, then the smock beneath it, whooshing it over the wet tangles of his hair.
The dark Viking spoke to his brother in the nonsense sounds of their heathen tongue. The big man chuckled, glanced at Birgit, then strutted to his brother's side, where they continued their alien conversation.
He was an attractive man, though not so much as his brother. She doubted even Birgit would deny that. Across a powerful muscular chest, a fleece of golden, springy curls spread. His damp leather breeches clung tightly to his thighs, tightly enough that when he turned she understood immediately the nature of the men's joke. The man was visibly aroused, and it was Birgit who had his attention. Arienh's grip tightened on the knife.
She flashed a glare at Ronan, and the grin vanished from his face. He tossed to his brother her father’s old woolen tunic that he had been wearing, along with more of the gibberish they spoke between them. Egil nodded and pulled the shirt over his damp torso, concealing his offending
Arienh felt her blood growing hot. Sometimes she grew weary of everyone's constant expectation that she solve all their problems. "Very well, then, Birgit, tell me what you would have me do."
"Get rid of them."
"That's not good enough, as I am trying. Tell me how to get rid of them. Would you like for me to challenge them to a sword fight? Perhaps I could persuade them to let me take them one at a time, all twenty of them."
Birgit bit her lips together. Her gaze dropped to the ground.
Arienh felt the sudden sting of guilt for her temper. "I am sorry. I know how hard it is for you, Birgit. But we only have the two of them in our house. At least we can manage them, as they are trying to be agreeable."
"Agreeable." Birgit sneered.
"Aye. For their kind, anyway. Do you see them ordering us about, or throwing us down on our beds?"
Both women glanced suddenly at Liam, and the boy flinched. Sometimes they forgot just how aware he was of his origins. How could he not be, in these harsh times? Even at his young age, he had seen women raped and murdered. Arienh was instantly sorry for her bluntness. She put her arm around his shoulder.
"Aye. It is a simple matter," she said to Birgit. "The big one would already have taken his brother away if he could have. If we help them get out of here, they will leave sooner. And he has brought food, Birgit. Think of the ham. We have not even seen a live pig in two years. And ducks. Come, we can set water to boiling and have them plucked for tomorrow's meal."
"I just cannot stand the sight of them, Arienh. But I am sorry. Come, I can at least pluck ducks. Liam can help."
Arienh smiled, relieved. Now if she could just get the brothers to behave themselves. But from what she'd already seen of them, she had about as much chance of that as she did of setting those dead ducks back to flying.
She watched the two men raise eyebrows at each other as the women passed through the cottage door. Birgit, for once not glaring at the strangers, busied herself with slicing up the last of the roots for cooking. Arienh lifted two wooden buckets and opened the door. A sudden flash of lightning startled her.
"I'll go," said Egil, and she was more than glad to let him.
Liam pulled at his mother's skirts. "Mama, can I go?"
"Nay."
"He can help me." But Egil, faced down by the icy green fury in Birgit's eyes, grimaced and went out the door alone. Arienh laughed to herself. Perhaps not even a fierce Viking was a match for a mother’s protective ire.
Liam's face screwed up into a pout. It had been a long time since he had been around men. She hoped his curiosity would not grow too great, yet how could it not? Liam could not be separated from his insatiable lust for knowledge. One more reason she hoped the Vikings would be gone soon.
Egil returned along with the storm, with rumbling thunder behind him, and rivulets running down his hair and into his soaked jerkin. He yanked off the garment, then the smock beneath it, whooshing it over the wet tangles of his hair.
The dark Viking spoke to his brother in the nonsense sounds of their heathen tongue. The big man chuckled, glanced at Birgit, then strutted to his brother's side, where they continued their alien conversation.
He was an attractive man, though not so much as his brother. She doubted even Birgit would deny that. Across a powerful muscular chest, a fleece of golden, springy curls spread. His damp leather breeches clung tightly to his thighs, tightly enough that when he turned she understood immediately the nature of the men's joke. The man was visibly aroused, and it was Birgit who had his attention. Arienh's grip tightened on the knife.
She flashed a glare at Ronan, and the grin vanished from his face. He tossed to his brother her father’s old woolen tunic that he had been wearing, along with more of the gibberish they spoke between them. Egil nodded and pulled the shirt over his damp torso, concealing his offending
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