If the old man was offended by it, he gave no sign. “Your wife’s hospitality is remarkable, young wolf.”
“Lord?” Brynn rose. She came toward Cenric, her face maddeningly serene.
There were nearly twenty armed men at his table who had come here uninvited and unannounced. They could not have made their intentions clearer if they had pissed in his bed.
Yet here was Brynn, acting like this was a social call.
Brynn met him at the doorway. She took his arm, carefully, but her fingers dug into his skin, a warning, if he hadn’t known better. “Olfirth will be joining us for supper this evening.”
“Will he?” Cenric glared past his wife to the white-haired goat.
The old man sipped his mead, watching Cenric and Brynn curiously.
“Gaitha, please stay with our guests. I will be back in a moment.”
Gaitha inclined her head. “Of course, lady.”
Cenric hated leaving these men in his house, but he let Brynn take him back out the small door of the garden. They were barely outside before he was pulling her around to face him. “Explain.”
The serenity she had projected in the hall fractured. “Olfirth appeared over an hour ago with his men. I invited him to eat with us tonight.”
“And he accepted?” Cenric demanded.
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“Nothing else.” Brynn looked back to the open door to the longhouse, probably checking for prying eyes. “I was able to make him see reason.”
“What reason?” Cenric gestured back to the hall. “That is a threat, Brynn. He came here with armed men on a day he knew I would be gone to harry my wife and frighten my servants. He’s trying to intimidate me.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Brynn exhaled a sharp breath. “You are his new neighbor. He knew your father and your brothers, but he never knew you.”
“He is testing me,” Cenric growled.
“Cenric!” Brynn grabbed his arm, stopping him from storming back into the longhouse. “What are you doing?”
“I will show this man what happens when he tries to cross me.”
Brynn raised her chin. “You’ll kill him?”
“He threatened you!”
Brynn shook her head. “Think, Cenric. Justthink!”
Cenric yanked his arm free of her grip.
Hurt flashed across Brynn’s face, but she stepped toward him. “So, you kill him.” Her voice went cold. “He has two sons. What will you do when they come to avenge him?”
“I’ll kill them too,” Cenric growled.
“And their sons?” Brynn didn’t back down. “Their nephews, cousins, brothers-in-law, and thanes?”
“That is the way of it.” Cenric had a nagging feeling she was trying to make a point, but he was too angry to see it.
“And your other neighbors? There are four other aldermen within three days’ ride of here. After you slaughter every last man in Olfirth’s bloodline, and they decide you are too great a threat to be left alone?”
“Get to the point, woman.” Cenric’s hand ached to seize his sword. He wanted to ram the blade through Olfirth’s gut.
