Page 112 of Storm of Fury
“And who is this?” The woman graced Bryn with a radiant smile. Immediately Bryn could see where Haakon got his gray eyes from, but where his were cool and calculating, his mother’s sparkled with curiosity.
“This is Bryn,” Tormund said. “My traveling companion.”
“Travelling companion?”
It sounded so innocent.
It sounded like the jaws of a trap about to snap shut.
“I’m a… anotherdrekihunter,” she told the woman before Tormund could explain her presence. “Tormund and I are currently working together to track a missingdrekiprincess who passed through this way yesterday or the day before.”
“Bryn’s an excellent warrior,” Tormund added.
“Mmm.” Brunhild gave Tormund an inscrutable look. “You must be hungry. Come in! I will fetch your cousins, and we shall all dine together.”
“Oh, no.” Tormund held up his hands. “That’s not necessary. The girls will be busy. They have children. Husbands. Homes to tend—”
“Nonsense.” Brunhild put her hands on her hips. “The pair of you have been gone for so long that we barely remember what you look like. Dragon princess or no dragon princess, you will come inside this house and dine with your family, my boy, or I shall box your ears.”
“Dreki.” Tormund coughed. “Haakon’s wife will take offense if you call her a dragon.”
“Tormund.”
Though a part of Bryn felt a little wary of this entire excursion, she couldn’t help but find herself charmed. Tormund looked like a ten-year-old boy chastised for dragging dirt inside the home.
“Of course,” Bryn interceded. “We would love to dine with your family. I’m sure they have many questions for Tormund, and with night falling we can’t continue our journey.”
Brunhild brightened considerably. “Excellent! I shall send word. Come inside. Come inside.”
“It’s not as though you need to send word.” Tormund glared down the village street. “Nora and Leah are still peering through their windows.”
“Stop grumbling. And take your boots off.” Brunhild vanished inside the home.
“Smile,” Bryn told him.
“Don’t you laugh,” Tormund told Bryn with a scowl as he gestured her inside. “You’re the one who’s going to be subjected to the famous Haraldsson inquisition, and let me assure you, lesser women have trembled.”
“I’m not afraid of anything, big man.”
“No?” He leaned closer, resting his hand on the small of her back. “Trust me when I say that I would rather face a hundred draugar than Haakon’s curious sisters.”
Bryn rolled her eyes. “Then you’ve never lived with a hall full of Valkyrie with nothing better to do than polish their swords. There are no secrets in Valhalla.”
“Polish their swords?” He brightened. “Is that a—”
“No.” She rolled her eyes and shoved him through the door. “We call that ‘strumming the lute.’”
* * *
Dinner was a raucous affair.
Each of Haakon’s sisters brought some part of the meal with them, scolding him all the while for such an impromptu gathering, though Tormund could tell they didn’t mean it. Their husbands leaned back in chairs, sipping ale and talking of the weather and crops, and through it all, numerous children ran and giggled.
Little Kari sat by herself, quietly reading her favorite book, and Tormund stopped beside her to greet her with a smile and a few questions about the book. “Hello, my favorite,” he said. “Look at you, you’ve grown an inch.”
“Hello,” Kari replied, though her finger kept tracing the pretty illustration in the book and she didn’t look up.
“I bought you a gift,” he said, reaching inside his shirt. “But don’t tell the others. It’s a special gift, just for you.”
