Page 47 of Tears of the Wolf
The dyrehunds sprawled on the floor for the evening meal, snapping up scraps and gnawing at the discarded bones and organs of the slaughtered sheep. The one Cenric called Ash pawed at Brynn’s leg, whining under the table.
Edric shooed the animal away. “None of that, now!”
The dog backed away, whimpering.
“Sorry, lady,” Edric said. “If you give the animal any space at all, she’ll be walking all over you!”
“Sounds like someone I know,” Gaitha muttered. She grabbed Edric’s face, pulled him around, planting a hard kiss on his mouth.
Brynn returned her attention to her cup of ale. There was no wine tonight, only ale. Brynn accepted it as she had accepted everything else so far. The stew was filling and well-salted. She picked out the chunks of vegetable and meat with her fingers, then drank the broth. Pieces that were too large, she cut into smaller pieces with her eating knife.
“I am grateful to have you here, Lady Brynn.” Gaitha extracted herself from Edric’s lips long enough to let him finish his meal. “I’ll finally be able to get back to my own household now.”
Brynn nodded. “I’m grateful for you looking after the longhouse.”
Gaitha stroked Edric’s shoulder, brazen and shameless. “Of course,” she said. “When my lord requires the service.”
“Who looked after it before you? His Aunt Aegifu?”
“Mad Aggie?” Gaitha scoffed. “No, she hasn’t been here since Cenric became alderman. A girl from the village. Rowan.”
Brynn’s mouth went suddenly dry. “I see.” A cold tightness grew in her belly. She didn’t want to think what that might mean. She was afraid to ask.
“She’s a fine girl. Hard worker. Left the longhouse in good order when I took it over.”
So Cenric had some village girl, presumably unmarried, running his home? Brynn wasn’t naïve.
Brynn forced herself to go empty, to not think. She wouldn’t care. She wouldn’t.
“I’ll be back tomorrow to finish showing you around,” Gaitha assured her. “You’ve run a much larger household than this, it sounds like. I’m sure you’ll take to it in no time.”
Brynn softened her mouth into a smile, but inside everything had gone tight and cold as if she’d been splashed with a bucket of water.
They finished the evening meal and fed the leftovers to the pigs. The dogs fought with several large sows for their fair share.
Esa was given a place in the main hall with the other girls. She had slept on a cot inside Brynn’s room back in Glasney, but she didn’t complain when she was shown a pallet on the floor.
“Are you going to be alright?” Brynn asked, giving the girl a significant look.
“Fine, lady.”
Brynn touched the side of Esa’s face. Esa was barely fourteen. Brynn had fought in a war at her age, but somehow Esa seemed like a child to her. She wanted to protect the girl, that was all she had ever wanted for her. Maybe she was trying to protect Esa the way she wished someone had protected her. “You don’t have to punish yourself,” Brynn said quietly. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Esa had been the one tasked with watching Osbeorn that terrible night, after all. But what could she have done? She was one girl, still inexperienced in her power. Brynn had been older than her when she’d hid while Aelfwynn and her thanes were slaughtered.
Esa’s lower lip trembled, but she looked away. “I’ll be fine. Send for me if you need anything?”
“I will.”
Esa canted her head, adjusting her pallet in the midst of the other household girls.
The sun had already set by the time Gaitha saw Brynn to her room—her and Cenric’s room. She kissed Brynn on either cheek in the way of sisters or good friends, then bid her good night.
Brynn stood alone, hands clutched before her.
Overhead, she could hear the household boys and men clambering up to the loft for the night. The girls were bedding down by the central hearth and would keep it tended through the night.
Brynn’s own fire had been banked. In winter, a servant would stay awake to tend it and watch for stray embers, but it was not yet cold enough to need one now.
