Page 65 of The Caged Viking

Hauk was accompanied by the steward, Halfdan, who was clearly upset about something, as evidenced by his red face under his bushy gray beard. Even his bald head was red. “I understand you have appointed a housekeeper to replace my steward,” Hauk snapped at her.

Halfdan gave her a look that translated to, Now the you-know-what is going to hit the fan.

She gave Hauk no chance to say more. “I did no such thing,” she declared, putting her hands on her hips, “or if I did, I merely relieved Halfdan of some of the duties he so clearly had no time to handle.” Talk about lame subtlety! A diplomat I will never be.

Hauk’s eyes swept the large room, taking in the contrast between the clean and the uncleaned-as-yet tables, as well as the piles of filthy rushes which reeked especially bad now that they had been stirred up. In fact, he leaned on one of the tables and jerked back when his hand came away covered with a layer of the greasy goop. He wiped that hand on his pant leg and turned with arched eyebrows to his steward.

“I…um…well…mayhap there was too much to do with overseeing the inside and outside the buildings,” Halfdan stammered.

“Hmpfh! The outside isn’t much better. Why have those boats not been recaulked yet? And why are there so few laying hens in the coop? And the roof on the hay shed is leaking.” When Halfdan just stared downward and did not answer, Hauk said, “Let us check the storeroom with Frida.” By the frown on Hauk’s face, Kirstin guessed that Hauk was not optimistic about what he would find there.

Just then, several men walked into the hall, swords dangling from their belts, wearing leather armor. They made their way to one of the clean tables on which pitchers of ale, manchet bread, slices of hard cheese and cold meat of some kind had been laid out for those who had missed the noontime meal. After taking a few bites and a long draw on a horn of the ale, the tallest of the men glanced over and noticed them standing at the other end of the hall. “Hauk!” he exclaimed and made his way with long strides toward them. “When did you get back?”

“Earlier today,” Hauk replied with a smile. “Where have you been, Thorkel?”

“Off fighting Jarl Ingolf’s men of Stormstead. Again! They have developed a habit of sneaking onto Haukshire land and stealing whatever is foraging in the woods…cattle, hogs, sheep.”

“Egil told me about Ingolf’s misdeeds some time ago. I thought he would have given up by now.”

“Nay. He was depending on you not coming back anytime soon before he took over here.”

“’Tis good I have returned then,” Hauk said.

“Yea, ’tis good you are back,” Thorkel agreed and gave him a man hug. “And who is this lovely lady?”

“This is my wife, Kirstin,” Hauk told him in an exaggerated menacing tone.

Thorkel’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Then he turned to Kirstin and said, “Welcome, m’lady.” To Hauk, he murmured, “You always were lucky with women. You have a prize here.”

“I assume you know my steward, and this is Signe, I believe.”

Thorkel ignored Halfdan but grinned at Signe, who developed a sudden blush. “Oh, I know Signe.”

“Hah! You’d like to know me, you loathsome lout.” And she stomped away toward the kitchens.

“She likes me,” Thorkel told the rest of them, widening his blue eyes with exaggerated innocence. He was a good-looking man and tall enough to tower over Signe, not that appearance was important, or the most important thing. And obviously Signe was not pleased with his attention.

“Oh?” Kirstin remarked.

“She just does not know it yet.”

Typical overconfident Viking male! she thought. And she should know, having lived in a home with about a dozen of them over the years.

Hauk prepared to leave, but before he left, he surveyed the hall once again, then looked at her and nodded.

If that was his idea of an apology after his initial criticism of her taking over Halfdan’s job, Kirstin had a thing or two to say to him. Later. She must have made a growling sound, though, because he turned around, came back, and kissed her, hard and quick. Just as abruptly, he pulled back, gave her a wink, and left.

Now that was an apology she liked, to her chagrin.

To even more chagrin, she noticed that Hauk had changed direction. He had been going to the storage room with Halfdan, but now he was heading toward his bedchamber, the one occupied by Zoya, who opened the door at his first knock and threw herself up and into his embrace, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. And the jerk didn’t put her down. Instead, he stepped inside and closed the door behind them.

Sigurd looked amused. And Halfdan looked like he’d just escaped the guillotine.

Chapter 15

Resisting the irresistible…

Kirstin was exhausted beyond anything she’d experienced in years, even worse than the time two years ago when she and several of her colleagues made the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in Spain. They hadn’t completed the entire trail, but hiking twelve miles a day for five days had left them practically dead on their feet, and they’d all been physically fit. Tonight, there wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t hurt, what with helping to scrub, haul, and empty buckets of water, launder linens and clothing, and dust cobwebs with a long-handled broom.