‘The dowager Queen of Agthir. She and King Sigmund have long been allied,’ Svanna added. ‘Agthir is wealthy. Their new queen does follow a Christian path.’
The monk licked his lips. ‘I can recall hearing something about it, now that I think on it.’
The corners of Svanna’s mouth twitched, but Rand noticed she allowed the monk’s tall tale.
‘I must ask for your best chamber.’
‘My abbot is away in Tara with the high king.’ The monk started to close the door. ‘The private chamber? Lord Randolfr, you must understand that I hesitate because the abbot normally only allows people that the King Máel Sechnaill has specified.’
‘We are on the King’s business. Send your abbot to me if he squeaks.’ Rand gently urged Svanna forward into the vestibule of the monastery before the monk could slam the door in their faces. Svanna, though Rand knew she’d deny the suggestion, was chilled to the bone. Her lips had taken on a bluish tinge and her teeth were chattering.
‘I require hot pottage, mulled mead and furs,’ Rand said. ‘I’ve no wish for my bride to catch a chill.’
‘I’m fine,’ Svanna mumbled as a pool of water collected about her boots.
‘Your bride appears to be damp.’
‘The rain was heavier than I considered it would be,’ Svanna said, answering his unspoken question about how much she understood. She glanced up at him, her blue-tinged lips turning up into a brave smile. ‘The accommodation will be suitable wherever this monk can find us room. A dry corner to sleep and a fire to warm my hands.’
The monk licked his fleshy lips. A sudden and unexpected surge of protectiveness ricocheted through Rand. He simultaneously knew a man of God had no business looking at his wife in that way and that he needed to get her warm and dry as quickly as possible.
‘Excellent news,’ the monk said, rubbing his hands together. ‘The stables where you last stayed…’
‘Your abbot enjoys my benefice. Take us to your best chamber. Now. I require a private chamber and food and I am unaccustomed to having to ask twice. That portable brazier your abbot is fond of will also be required.’
‘I know the one you speak of, but…it is in the abbot’s private room.’
‘The abbot is away and unlikely to return before we leave.’
‘Yes, my lord Randolfr.’ The monk gulped twice and rushed off as if an imp from hell was snapping at his heels.
‘The stables would have been fine. I’ve no wish to put anyone out or store up resentment.’
‘I’ll not have anyone disrespecting you, Svanna. When they do, they disrespect me. We will get you warm because you appear incapable of considering your own needs.’
‘Unfair.’
‘We either argue about nothing, or you can get warm.’ He put his hand in the middle of her back and propelled her forward. Someone needed to look after her when she refused to, and that job fell to him.
* * *
After taking off her sodden leather cloak, which seemed to keep in the cold, and carefully hanging it up, Svanna stood in the small chamber and tried to keep her teeth from chattering. Several of the lay brothers had ensured that the iron brazier was lit, and a mountain of furs were put on the bed. Finally, a trencher of steaming pottage was brought in. The lay brothers then hurried out of the chamber, leaving her alone with the glowering Rand.
‘The food smells good,’ she said into the silence which followed. She refused to address his remark about not looking after herself properly. She’d been looking after herself very well ever since her real mother had died. And she didn’t need any interference from Rand. ‘I can’t remember the last time pottage smelt so delicious.’
‘Please fill your belly.’
Svanna sank down on a stool in front of the brazier and began to eat.
She waited for the warmth from the food to seep into her, but nothing. If anything, the coldness increased. She gave another violent shiver, nearly knocking the pottage to the ground.
‘Clothes off,’ Rand said, fastening the door. ‘You are sodden.’
She wrapped her arms about her middle. A wave of tiredness passed over her, but if she slept now, she worried she’d never wake. ‘My trunks have not arrived yet. I’m warm, far warmer than I was before. My gown is only damp.’
‘They will arrive soon enough. I will bring them in when they do.’
‘What? I am supposed to stand shivering naked in front of that brazier? No, thank you very much.’ She snapped her fingers. A surge of anger rushed through her, providing her with some much-needed warmth. But she also knew her arguments lacked the force of logic. ‘Just like that and at your say-so? I doubt that very much.’
