Part 21 (1/2)
”Huh?” he and Tyra said at the same time.
If he didn't know better, he would think Ingrith was flirting with him.
”Why are you flirting with him?” Tyra asked.
No one could accuse Tyra of beating around the bush.
”Well, why not? You do not seem particularly interested. I a.s.sumed he was fair game. And Drifa said he is ever so nice.”
Fairgame? Me? Nice?He wasn't so sure about being considered nice, but he rather liked the concept of being fair game. So he puffed out his chest and smiled warmly at Ingrith. He made sure it was a smile, not a simper.
Tyra used one of her big feet to stomp on his toes and murmured something about, ”Lecherous, loathsome lout.”
”Ouch!” he said, pulling his booted foot up to rest on his knee and rubbing it with great exaggeration.
Just then Breanne walked up and sat down in the empty chair on his other side.
”Adam, I need your advice.”
Tyra made a most unflattering, masculine-sounding snort on his other side. She'd better not scratch her groin. He could not bear to picture her in the gown, which was temptation itself, performing lewd manly gestures.
He c.o.c.ked his head, indicating Breanne should elaborate.
”I have been thinking about building a hospitium here at Stoneheim. What think you of the idea?”
”Do you have someone to man it for you?”
She batted her eyelashes at him.
Good Lord, another of Tyra's sisters flirting withme. What isgoing on here?”If Father Efrid and the midwife are willing to work in it, then I think it is a wonderful idea. I will not be here much longer, though ” He wanted to make it absolutely clear to one and all that his stay at Stoneheim had not been his idea to begin with, and it would end as soon as King Thorvald recovered... or died.
”Planning on going somewhere, Saxon?” Tyra asked, slurring her words.
”Exactly how many horns of ale have you drunk?”
”Not enough, apparently. I can still see your leering face.”
Leering? First she saysIsimper, now I leer. The ale must be affecting her perceptions. 'Tis past time for me to take the offensive here.”Nay, I am not going anywhere soon... leastways, not till a certain pact is fulfilled. ” He watched with great satisfaction as her face bloomed with color Then he turned his back on Tyra and began to discuss the potential hospitium project with Breanne in earnest. They ate and talked at the same time .. about the size of the building, examining tables, chests, windows, its location... over dozens of dishes, each more elaborate or tasty than the previous ones. Ingrith truly was an artisan in the kitchen. Breanne was an artisan in her own way, and brilliant of mind Not to mention being beautiful, both of them . . Ingrith with her Norse blondness and Breanne with her redheaded Irish good looks.
It was some time before Adam turned back to Tyra, only to realize that the meal was over and the entertainment about to begin... and that Tyra had collected her own set of admirers. She was flirting, like her sisters, except not with him. Dammit!
A Viking soldier by the name of Gunter, reputed to be the best swordsman in all Norway, was tugging on one of her war braids, teasing her about some saucy remark she'd made earlier. The maids all swooned when Gunter walked by, but he was too pretty by half for a man, if you asked Adam... which n.o.body did of course Egil Iversson, another noted warrior, was asking her if she'd like to take a stroll with him about the ramparts. Egil'sbraies were so tight you could see his prodigious maleparts. He was wearing an enlarged codpiece, no doubt. Beware of men in tightbraies , that was Adam's philosophy, which he would pa.s.s on to his daughters someday, if he ever had any daughters. Or mayhap he would pa.s.s it on to Tyra... once he was within ducking distance. Adam decided to follow Tyra's suit and downed a horn of ale in one long swallow. He felt it all the way to his toes.
”Really, Tyra, you should come for a stroll with me,” Egil was saying. ”There is something interesting I would like to show you.”
I'll bet there is. What kind of stroll does the filthy fornicator have in mind? 'Tis dark outside. And coldI hopehe freezes off his... codpiece.
”Nay, Tyra cannot go strolling with you. She promised to dance with me later.” 'Twas Gunter the Peac.o.c.k speaking now.
”I did?” Tyra appeared a bit disoriented, whether from the ale or the male attentions he could not tell.
Both men's eyes kept straying to Tyra's exposed bosom.
Adam tightened his fingers on the wooden arms of his chair to prevent himself from drawing his sword, which he'd unfortunately left back in his bedchamber... or perhaps fortunately.
”What kind of saucy remark did you make, Tyra?” he asked casually.
”She asked if I wanted to couple with her,” Gunter revealed in a gloating fas.h.i.+on.
”Also, she made an astute observation about the size of a woman's b.r.e.a.s.t.s compared to the size of her
brain,” Egil added.
Both men were still staring at her chest.
Ihave heard enough!
Apparently, not enough, for Bolthor came up just then and gave Tyra an adoring look from his one good eye. The giant skald looking adoring was a sight to behold... rather like a one-eyed randy bear. ”I have a gift for you, my lady.” ”For me?” Even Tyra appeared startled by Bolthor's interest.
The poet nodded his head vigorously. ”A praise-poem, written just for you. Wouldst like to hearit?” Nay, nay, nay!
”Well, of course, Bolthor.”
He would have liked to shake Tyra thoroughly, but her b.r.e.a.s.t.s would undoubtedly pop out.
”This saga is called 'Lady in the Red Gown.' ”
Uh-oh!
”There once was a lady fair Whose love no man could snare.
All her beauty she did hide Under male garb of leather dried.
A sword she did carry, In battle she did tarry.
Methinks the lady knew not her worth Till the day a crimson gown came forth.
Then the lady did bloom, Like the finest peac.o.c.k plume.
Now the lady gets her pick Of all the men lovesick.