Baldur puffed his chest up and ignored our exchange. “Well then, seeing your proximity to our shore, you were here two days, you should have sent a missive. It is, as you well know, my due as king.”
“My apologies, your grace, and I hope you don’t find it offensive when I remind you we did not expect to be at your shore this long and I was dealing with a headstrong, unwell bride. My attention was taken by her, not sending a meaningless message, the effort of which would be a ridiculous waste of time for one of my men,” Frey returned.
“See here,” Baldur said quietly, now his voice was rumbling, “I’ll remind you again whose soil your boots rest on.”
“And I’ll remind you that my wife is clearly not well and the curiosity and mistrust, the latter of which is unearned, I will add,” Frey impressively lied through his teeth, “that were the true reasons you are here with tents and thrones,” he said this with disgust, “has delayed me on the errand of seeing to her health.”
“Careful, Drakkar, you don’t have leave to speak to this king the way you do my brother. The elves don’t leave the snow and you can’t call the dragons from this far,” Baldur retorted.
“Care to test that?” Frey returned.
Ho boy.
Time to intervene.
Pronto.
“Oh dear,” I whispered on my rasp and lifted a hand to my head, turning in the circle of Frey’s arm toward Sjofn’s uncle. “Do you, in all these tents, have someplace I can lie down, uncle? I’m feeling lightheaded.”
At my words, I was instantly swept up in Frey’s arms and held close to his chest.
“You’ll rest in our cabin,” Frey gritted then his eyes snapped to Baldur. “If I may have your leave to see to my wife?”
“Of course,” Broderick answered for his father. “And to save you the trouble, I’ll send to my personal physician for some medicine. It may take until morning but we’ll message you the moment it arrives so you can send a boat to retrieve it. That way, you can attend your…” he hesitated, his eyes came to me and they were warm because he clearly mistook the reason Frey had used the name he called me, and liked it, before he finished, “Finnie.”
“My thanks, Broderick, but do not go to that trouble. We’ll be on our way,” Frey stated, jerked his head at Baldur, turned on his boot and stalked out of the tent.
For my part, I’d wrapped my arms around Frey’s shoulders and I looked over the right one and smiled regally (I hoped) at father and son, seeing the king looked fit to be tied but Broderick was smiling so big he looked like he was trying hard not to laugh.
Yeah, I definitely liked Broderick.
Then I saw them no more as we were out of the tent, I was on a horse, Frey swung up behind me, leaned into me, dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and barked, “Yah!” and we were galloping away.
After a few minutes, I felt it was safe to speak.
So I did, starting with, “Frey –”
I was wrong about it being safe to speak.
I knew this when Frey growled, “Quiet, Finnie, we’ll wait until I have you and Kell sitting down so you can explain to me which one of you had the spectacularly stupid idea to go it alone with minimal guard, only two of whom are trained, and without me, to attend a man who might want you dead.”
Ho boy.
I got quiet as ordered, thinking it was my best bet at that juncture and watched the sea, Frey’s beautiful galleon drifting on it with the sun setting behind it, coming closer.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Marriage Is Marriage
“Please tell me you’re not back early ‘cause that sorry excuse for a king set up his throne in a bloody tent of all places.”
Kell chose this perhaps not very wise opener to our conversation as he strode into Frey’s cabin looking more than his usual grumpy.
We were all around the table, Frey seated at the head by his desk, me to his left, Thad to his right and Orion, Max, Lund, Oleg, Annar, Gunner and Stephan rounded out the mix with Oleg standing behind the empty chair at the foot, beefy legs planted apart, arms crossed on his chest. Orion and Stephan were also standing because we didn’t have enough chairs and I made a mental note to visit the galleon furniture store the next time I was in Sudvic.
Skylar was squeezing between the big men setting trays of cheese, meat, crackers and pickles on the table. He’d already seen to making sure all the men had horns of ale, save Frey, who’d ordered and received a glass and a bottle of whisky from which he partook immediately and I did not think this boded as a good sign.
As was apparent since refreshments had been readied and served by an eleven year old boy, Kell took his time showing up at our party which made me, as the seconds ticked to minutes then those minutes ticked to more minutes (and not a few of them), very uncomfortable. The men didn’t seem to mind it although they kept their silence as Frey’s seething anger filled the space.