would continue? Or was his consideration a false front like Néill’s initial polite wooing of her?
To be cert, he had handled her with not a trace of roughness or impatience. Recalling the bruises left on her breasts and neck from Néill’s mauling, she shuddered, and hugged her arms.
Where were Evie and Ulna?
Both Néill and Godfraid coveted Xára, but Evie was an even bigger prize for the two power hungry warlords, once they had learned the truth of her sister’s birth. First, she must needs assess the situation. Then, if ’twas disastrous, she would send Evie to the safety of the secret passage known only to those shown by Gná, the messenger of both Norse and Celtic gods and goddesses. Magnhildur’s prediction would not come to pass. Even if it meant her death, Xára would never allow Godfraid to take Evie’s maidenhood.
She found the two females in the far corner of the kitchen near the doorway leading to the herb gardens. Resolving to be calm and not allow any concern to show, Xára greeted the cook and butcher with a smile, and threaded her way through the dozen women, girls, and young boys milling about the roomy chamber.
Evie squealed when she spied Xára and bounded off the bench, spilling her bowl of fruit. The little girl squatted, scrambled a handful of berries into her stained skirts, bunched the hem, and then straightened. She skipped across the chamber all the while popping fruit into her blue-stained mouth.
“You are the Viking’s wife now, nay?” Evie beamed a wide smile up at Xára. She hopped from one foot to the other. “Will you have a bairn now?”
Xára tousled her sister’s silver-streaked hair. The girl was obsessed with bairns and had long yearned for a wee sister or brother.
“Dinna be bothering yer sister with all sorts of foolish questions.” Ulna waddled to stand behind Evie. She cocked her head and asked, “And was the doing as bad as ye thought ’twould be?”
Xára met her old nurse’s concerned gaze and shook her head.
“The brute treated ye with care?”
Aye, she mouthed. Great care.
Ulna harrumphed. “’Tis no way to take a well-born maid. With all those Norse heathens watching ye. Ye hold yer head high, my lady. We are all proud of ye.”
Xára grinned and hugged Ulna’s copious girth. The woman stood two heads shorter and mayhap three arses wider than Xára, but yet moved nimbly when necessary.
She signaled for Evie and Ulna to follow her and strode to the narrow hallway leading to the north tower. Picking up her pace, she darted into the room used to dry herbs and grind spices. Going directly to a bowl within which lay several pieces of charcoal, she picked one, and went to the whitewashed table in the corner. Magnhildur?
Evie read her question to Ulna who had never been able to acquire the skill.
“None has seen her ugly hide. She be a-brewing her mischief in the isles near Touft Abbey according to the gossip in the stables last eve.” Ulna jammed pudgy hands onto ample hips. She tapped her foot and waited.
“Galdan the Tracker spoke her name yester eve.” Evie piped up.
Xára frowned, then scribbled.
“Who did he speak with? I do not know the man, but Galdan called him my lord. He did not look like a lord. His tunic was stained and had holes, and he spoke in a strange manner,” Evie replied. But the girl’s gaze skipped all around the chamber, a certain sign of guilt.
Where were you?
“Be that what ye were doing in the middle of the night?” Ulna grasped Evie’s arm and gave her a sound shake. “Where did ye go to?”
Evie jerked out of the nurse’s hold. “I cannot sleep when you snore the walls off the keep. I went to the stables.”
Xára sighed. The stables were built into a cliff and contained a hidden passage large enough to transport the horses to the safety of a field in case of invasion.
“Ye went for a gallop, didn’t ye?” Ulna groaned out the words.
“I had to go. I had to. I had to find a fairy hill.” The
To be cert, he had handled her with not a trace of roughness or impatience. Recalling the bruises left on her breasts and neck from Néill’s mauling, she shuddered, and hugged her arms.
Where were Evie and Ulna?
Both Néill and Godfraid coveted Xára, but Evie was an even bigger prize for the two power hungry warlords, once they had learned the truth of her sister’s birth. First, she must needs assess the situation. Then, if ’twas disastrous, she would send Evie to the safety of the secret passage known only to those shown by Gná, the messenger of both Norse and Celtic gods and goddesses. Magnhildur’s prediction would not come to pass. Even if it meant her death, Xára would never allow Godfraid to take Evie’s maidenhood.
She found the two females in the far corner of the kitchen near the doorway leading to the herb gardens. Resolving to be calm and not allow any concern to show, Xára greeted the cook and butcher with a smile, and threaded her way through the dozen women, girls, and young boys milling about the roomy chamber.
Evie squealed when she spied Xára and bounded off the bench, spilling her bowl of fruit. The little girl squatted, scrambled a handful of berries into her stained skirts, bunched the hem, and then straightened. She skipped across the chamber all the while popping fruit into her blue-stained mouth.
“You are the Viking’s wife now, nay?” Evie beamed a wide smile up at Xára. She hopped from one foot to the other. “Will you have a bairn now?”
Xára tousled her sister’s silver-streaked hair. The girl was obsessed with bairns and had long yearned for a wee sister or brother.
“Dinna be bothering yer sister with all sorts of foolish questions.” Ulna waddled to stand behind Evie. She cocked her head and asked, “And was the doing as bad as ye thought ’twould be?”
Xára met her old nurse’s concerned gaze and shook her head.
“The brute treated ye with care?”
Aye, she mouthed. Great care.
Ulna harrumphed. “’Tis no way to take a well-born maid. With all those Norse heathens watching ye. Ye hold yer head high, my lady. We are all proud of ye.”
Xára grinned and hugged Ulna’s copious girth. The woman stood two heads shorter and mayhap three arses wider than Xára, but yet moved nimbly when necessary.
She signaled for Evie and Ulna to follow her and strode to the narrow hallway leading to the north tower. Picking up her pace, she darted into the room used to dry herbs and grind spices. Going directly to a bowl within which lay several pieces of charcoal, she picked one, and went to the whitewashed table in the corner. Magnhildur?
Evie read her question to Ulna who had never been able to acquire the skill.
“None has seen her ugly hide. She be a-brewing her mischief in the isles near Touft Abbey according to the gossip in the stables last eve.” Ulna jammed pudgy hands onto ample hips. She tapped her foot and waited.
“Galdan the Tracker spoke her name yester eve.” Evie piped up.
Xára frowned, then scribbled.
“Who did he speak with? I do not know the man, but Galdan called him my lord. He did not look like a lord. His tunic was stained and had holes, and he spoke in a strange manner,” Evie replied. But the girl’s gaze skipped all around the chamber, a certain sign of guilt.
Where were you?
“Be that what ye were doing in the middle of the night?” Ulna grasped Evie’s arm and gave her a sound shake. “Where did ye go to?”
Evie jerked out of the nurse’s hold. “I cannot sleep when you snore the walls off the keep. I went to the stables.”
Xára sighed. The stables were built into a cliff and contained a hidden passage large enough to transport the horses to the safety of a field in case of invasion.
“Ye went for a gallop, didn’t ye?” Ulna groaned out the words.
“I had to go. I had to. I had to find a fairy hill.” The
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