Page 64 of Her Dark Viking
He grinned at her. "Ah, so demanding but I do not blame you. I believe I may be beholden to you now and I could not settle to my other tasks knowing my wife remained unsated." He rose to his feet and offered her his hand. "Come, we shall find all the time we need. I recall you possessed the foresight to bolt the door..."
17
"Jarl, may I speak with you."
Gunnar turned to regard the smaller man who had sidled up to him as he crossed his settlement. He had spent a hard but productive morning drilling his men, including young Donald who was coming along very well, and he was now rather looking forward to spending a few quiet minutes with his wife if she was to be found anywhere about their longhouse. He really did not have time for this.
"Could it wait?" His tone was more brusque than he intended, but sadly Dagr did not bring out the best in Gunnar. The Viking chief well recalled the man's careless cruelty to both Mairead and Fiona all those months ago when the female Celts first arrived in the Norseland. Dagr had arrived at Gunnarsholm, along with half a dozen others and their families some twelve or so weeks previously and Gunnar wished the man had not been among the karls from Skarthveit who had opted not to follow Ulfric into his self-imposed exile. He did not feel it right to pick and choose who he would permit to stay, however, so all the newcomers had been welcomed and work was going on to construct the additional longhouses required to house them.
Dagr shrugged at the rebuttal, nodded and turned to leave him.
"Wait." Gunnar halted his stride. "Is it a matter of importance?"
"Aye, Jarl, it is. But not urgent."
Something in the man's demeanour set Gunnar's senses jangling. He did not particularly like the man himself, but Dagr had enjoyed his brother's trust so that at least entitled him to a hearing. "Come with me," commanded Gunnar, and continued on toward his longhouse.
Dagr followed him through the low doorway, then stood awkwardly on the threshold when he caught sight of Mairead tending the ever-present cooking pot which was suspended over the fire pit.
Gunnar kissed Mairead, then bent to pluck Tyra from the cradle on the floor. The baby was asleep, but he still enjoyed the way her little body felt as she snuggled in his arms. His love for this small child remained a source of some wonder to him and he gazed fondly at the tiny features before gesturing Dagr to be seated.
"Would you like a mug of ale? I am sure we have some about..."
"Of course." Mairead moved to fetch the required refreshment.
"No, I am fine. Thank you, Jarl. Lady." Dagr inclined his head to Mairead, then turned to regard his new overlord once more. "This is a matter of some... sensitivity, Jarl. Is there somewhere private...?"
Gunnar frowned, not caring at all for the man's attitude. "This is sufficiently private. My wife is privy to any matter concerning me. You may state your business."
"It... it is about your brother. A family matter, Jarl..." Dagr fairly squirmed under Gunnar's intense and decidedly hostile scrutiny. It did him no good whatsoever.
"My family are about me. Get on with whatever you have to say, or leave us to our meal."
"Perhaps another time..." Dagr made as though to rise from the stool he had sunk onto at his Jarl's invitation.
Gunnar's patience was at an end. He had commanded the man to speak freely before Mairead, he had damned well better do so or face his Jarl's wrath.
"Sit down, and fucking speak. Now." He glared at the nervous karl, but the outcome was inevitable. Mairead moved to stand behind him, her small hand upon his shoulder in a welcome display of unity and marital bliss.
"Very well." Dagr shifted in his seat and found something of much fascination to study an inch or so beyond the toe of his left boot. "It... it concerns your brother, Ulfric and ... your sister, the lady Brynhild."
"My sister?" breathed Gunnar.
"There is news of Brynhild?" Mairead gasped behind him. "Is she found?"
"Yes. I mean, no. No, she is not found. But neither is she truly lost."
Gunnar lowered his tone, the menace clear. "You are speaking in riddles, man, and I find I do not care for it. What do you know of my sister?"
Dagr drew in a deep breath, raised his eyes to meet Gunnar's angry gaze, and opted to ignore Mairead entirely. He commenced his tale. "At his wedding feast, on the eve of his departure from our shores, Ulfric took me aside and bade me bring you a message. He knew that I was among those who did not choose to sail with him, and that I would be coming here to Gunnarsholm. He was most particular that I should wait until noless than three new moons had passed before speaking with you, but that I should repeat his words accurately and fully. It... it is quite a story, Jarl."
"Then please do not let me interrupt the telling of it." Gunnar handed the still sleeping baby to Mairead then leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Dgar had his undivided attention.
"You are aware, I understand, that there was enmity between Lady Brynhild and the slave, Fiona. And that Ulfric favoured his bed-slave. He... he valued her highly."
Gunnar nodded slowly when Dagr paused but offered no comment.
"There was... there was an incident, soon after you visited Skarthveit with your new wife. Ulfric went to Bjarkesholm to attempt to negotiate a truce with Olaf. He was away for several hours and during his absence lady Brynhild attempted to murder your brother's bed-slave." The words tumbled over each other, as though Dagr could not blurt out his message fast enough.
