Part 8 (1/2)
I am really, really going to wring Ras.h.i.+d's neck... and his tongue, as well.
Vana stopped her flower arranging and tilted her head, as if pondering some great question. ”So, you say Adam is arrogant? Hmmm. Arrogance is not such a bad thing... especially in a handsome man.”
”He is not all that handsome,” Tyra lied.
”Are you demented, Tyra?” Breanne exclaimed. She had finished peeling apples and set her knife down. ”The man is G.o.dly handsome, and you well know it.”
Tyra felt her face heat with embarra.s.sment. In truth, she'd had the same thoughts about him being G.o.dly handsome.
”Did you notice the way he moves?” Vana asked Drifa. ”So smooth and... well, sensual, rather like a large cat.”
Her other sisters agreed with a communal, ”Yea.”
Moves? He moves sensually? Holy Thor! Now Iwill be watching the way he moves.
”And his hands,” Breanne added. ”I like a man with competent hands. Long-fingered. One could just imagine what those hands could do when...” Her voice drifted off as she bit her bottom lip and got a dreamy look in her eyes, imagining the G.o.ds only knew what.
Drifa, Ingrith, and Vana all sighed. Their eyes glazed over, too.
That's all I need. To picture the rogue's fine-fingered hands doing sinful things to me. For the love of Frigg, I wager that image is now firmly planted in my feeble brain.
”Gilly, that new maid from Erin, was in the sweat-house where he went to bathe a short time ago,” Ingrith confided in a whispered voice that bespoke some secret about to be divulged. ”She said he has a very big-”
”That's it! Enough! No more about the healer!” Tyra interjected before Ingrith could finish whatever observation she was about to make about the brute's anatomy.
I am not thinking about what is big on his body. I am not thinking about what is big on his body. I am not thinking...
”She's blus.h.i.+ng! Tyra is blus.h.i.+ng!” Vana said with a hoot of glee.
I am not blus.h.i.+ng. Not, not, not!
”You know what that means,” Vana said.
Tyra's other sisters began to talk all at once, like a flock of cackling chicks.
”Oh, for the love of Loki! Could it possibly be?” Breanne said. She was staring at Tyra in the oddest way.
”What? What?” Tyra asked.
”Ooh, ooh, my prayers to Freyja have been answered,” Vana added. She was staring oddly at Tyra, too.
”What? What?”
Drifa glanced at Breanne and Vana, then at Tyra, and exclaimed, ”Thank the G.o.ds!”
”What? What?”
Ingrith stopped pouring plum custard into a large pottery bowl. She was nodding her head with some sudden understanding. ”Perchance I will cook meals in my own home afore I am gray-haired after all.”
”What? What?”
”It appears as if I won't have to join a harem after all.” Vana put her flowers aside and came to hug Tyra.
”I am so happy for you.”
”What in b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l are you all talking about?” Tyra said when she was finally able to escape Vana's
embrace. It was always embarra.s.sing to be hugged by Vana, whose head barely reached her chin, so tiny was she... compared to her, leastways.
The sisters all looked at each other, one to the other, slowly, beaming as if they'd just been handed the
moon. Ingrith was the one who finally spoke for the group. ” 'Tis obvious, really, sister dear. You like the healer. Youreally like the healer.”
Tyra drew her brows together and c.o.c.ked her head in confusion. ”Speak plainly.”
Drifa patted Tyra on the forearm and explained, ”Let us just say that, to our mind, it appears as if you
would not object overmuch to playing Eve to his Adam.”
Oh, my G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses!
”Ras.h.i.+d says she would make a good harem houri.”
”Perchance she will be Adam's first. Houri, I mean.”
”Nay, nay, nay! She will be his wife.”
”Then we can all marry.”
”Ingrith, you will take care of the wedding feast,” Breanne said brightly. ”Vana can make the wedding
finery. Drifa, the flowers... and the music, too. Your voice and lute playing are the best of all of us. And I
can construct a wedding canopy.” Over and over, Tyra tried to interject her objections into their discussion. Finally she took on her best military stance, legs widespread, hands on hips, and shouted, ”Silence.”
When the kitchen became so quiet they could hear the crackle of the fire and the steady sniffle of one of the maids cowering in the corner, she spoke, calmly but with a firmness that would not be denied. ”There will be no wedding betwixt me and the healer... or any other man. But this I promise you. If our father lives, I will find a way for me to go my own way, and for each of you to wed. Do you accept my word?”
Each of them nodded in turn. Soon, everyone was off and about her business, and Tyra walked toward the bedchamber to complete her toilette.
It was final, then. She would never wed. Everyone understood that now. Although she'd never been quite so adamant with her sisters before, it was something she'd known for a long time.
Why then did the prospect suddenly make her feel so sad?