Ainslin knew something had gone terribly wrong and that it had to involve Sigrid and her sons. She could scare draw breath while waiting for Torsten’s answer.
But instead of replying right away, Torsten rolled her drawers in the blanket, and stuffed the cloth log into the straw basket. All at once, he pivoted to face the clearing, and then he picked her up and tucked her behind him. “Someone comes.”
She heard the faint drumming of hooves pounding the packed earth. Fear had the pulse in her throat ready to burst the thin skin there.
“Torsten.” The shout came from a vaguely familiar voice.
Ainslin peeked through Torsten’s akimbo-planted arm.
His brother, Ruard, fair hair flying in the wind galloped through the clearing, and hauled hard on his reins when he spied Torsten. He walked his steed over to the bank and surveyed the scene before him. “I see you and your lady have been enjoying a swim. Beg pardon for interrupting, but I needs speak with you.”
Though Ruard spoke without haste, Ainslin sensed urgency in him. She stepped around Torsten and blurted, “Has aught happened to my sons?”
Torsten caught her waist with his arm, and the warmth of him soothed her rising terror.
“Nay, lady. Your sons are safe with my brother, Jarvik, not two days’ travel from Bear Hall.” Ruard dismounted.
“See. All is well. While I speak with Ruard, pray collect, and pack away the leftover food. We leave naught that will attract bears and wolves. ’Tis one of the rules of our holding.” Torsten pressed a kiss to her forehead and marched over to his brother.
Her worry somewhat appeased, Ainslin collected the remnants of the food and wine while keeping an eye on her husband and Ruard.
The two men had ambled in the direction of the far line of trees and talked in low murmurs. She couldn’t understand what they said for they conversed in Norse far too swiftly for her to pick out words.
Finally, after what seemed to be an interminable time, Torsten and Ruard turned around, and headed back to her.
“My lady, I take your leave.” Ruard bowed to her, threw his long and lanky form onto his steed, and yanked his hand to his chest. “I will see you anon at the náttverðr.”
“My thanks brother.” Torsten’s set jaw spoke of anger.
“Something is amiss?” Ainslin craned back to search his expression.
“Naught but early guests for the feast on the morrow. We needs feed a score extra mouths this eve. I am at a loss as to what to do, wife. Do I order Helga to—?”
Ainslin jumped at the opportunity. “Nay, husband. I shall see to these duties. I must needs find Thora and Greta immediately.”
“They will have returned to Bear Hall to assist with our wedding feast on the morrow. I will accompany you there.” He plucked the basket from the boulder and offered her his arm.
Her mind worked in several different directions at once as they strolled back to the longhouse. “What are the ranks of these visitors? Are visitors housed by rank as in my land?”
“Aye and nay. One is a noble, two are freemen, and the rest are servants. On the morrow, our neighbors will begin to arrive for our wedding feast. I know not how you plan to handle Helga, but she has worked diligently to prepare for the morrow.”
“Though she offered me insult this day, I will not sink so low as to be uncivil to her. Earlier you mentioned that Helga’s betrothed, Jarl Olsson, is also our neighbor. Is he invited to the feast?” She knew precisely what her approach would be and, unless Helga threw a fit of temper, all would be well.
“Aye. He will.”
They passed the swine yard and a couple of grubby bearded men greeted Torsten who inclined his head in return.
She grinned and wanted to clap her joy. “Is the hut of Wilma the Wise on the way to Bear Hall?”
He halted and caught her chin. “Aye, it is. I ask you again, Ainslin, do you have need of her? Did I hurt you last eve more than you wish to admit?”
His frowning concern sent hordes of delicious butterflies awhirl in her belly, and she tiptoed to kiss his cheek. “Nay and nay. I simply wish to speak with her about the local herbs and spices.”
When he still appeared puzzled and concerned, she tried to distract him. “Where will Brom and Rob sleep?”
“Fear not. There are two extra rooms in the back of our lodge. The boys will be within hearing distance. Ahead, on your right is Wilma’s hut. I will wait for you out here and check with the smithy over yonder about some armor he forges for me.” Torsten pointed to an oversize hut in the distance.
“Nay, husband. Wilma will accompany me to Bear Hall. I have need of her for the food being prepared. Please, go about your warrior duties, and I will see to mine. Here, I shall take the basket.” She grabbed the basket’s handle and sent him a happy smile. “I beg of you, Torsten. Have faith in me. I vow never to be alone. You can set your men to follow me, if you wish.”
“They already do. Save for this morn. None will make that mistake again.”
His grim declaration took her askance for a moment. She had not noticed anyone shadowing her. “Even now, your men follow?”
“Nay, I am with you. None else is necessary. Be careful, wife. I would have you safe.”
“I give you my vow.” On impulse, she kissed him again, this time full on the lips. “I will see you at the lodge later? We will go to the evening meal together?”
“Aye. We will. I bid you farewell, wife, before I am tempted to take you back to the lodge and pleasure you again.” He pressed his lips to the corner of her eye, swung around, and marched around the corner of the hut opposite Wilma’s.
Ainslin waited a few minutes before pivoting and nigh racing to the hut where she and Martha had stayed the first couple of days. The door stood open and she hurried inside to find Martha stoking the hearth.
“Milady,” Martha greeted her and made to rise.
“Nay, I know how your bones ache. Finish what you are doing while I tell you my good news. The jarl has given permission for you to stay here in this cottage and you are to be assigned to the kitchens, but not for this day. You will start on the morrow.”
“I am to have this cottage to myself?” Martha asked.
Ainslin could tell Martha was amazed and delighted for she had known only a pallet in Ainslin’s chamber. “You are and I am so pleased. You deserve such good fortune after all you have done for me. Now, I must hurry for I have things to do afore the sun sets. I will see you in the hall later for the náttverðr.”
“Oh milady, I know not how to thank you,” Martha said.
“No thanks are necessary. I will see you anon. Farewell, Martha,” Ainslin declared.
Then she raced out of the cottage and walk-skipped back to Wilma the Wise’s hut. Breathless, she halted for a moment, and then strolled up a pebble-lined path to the healer’s cottage. The door stood ajar. She knocked, “I am Ainslin, wife of Jarl Torsten, come to see Wilma the Wise.”
“Milady.” Helene flung the door wide open. “My mama’s here, too. Have you come to visit?”
“Aye, Helene.” She stepped into the cool hut only to find it empty of anyone else. “Where is your mama and her mama?”
“In the drying room. Come. I’ll take you to them.” Helene tugged Ainslin’s hand and led her past a small table fronted by benches on either side, a wide circular hearth, and through a doorway.
Right away, she smelled dill, sage, and henbane, and a swift sweep of the room showed dried bunches of herbs and flowers hanging from the rafters. Greta and another woman, as tall and slender, gawked at Ainslin from behind a stone table. “Greetings Greta.”
“Milady.” Greta curtsied. “What a surprise. Mama, this is the jarl’s wife, Lady Ainslin.”
“I am so pleased to meet you, Wilma the Wise, for I am in need of your immediate assistance.” Ainslin prayed both women would go along with her plan.
Wilma dipped a quick curtsey. “Welcome, milady. Greta has told me much of your first meeting. I am pleased to help you in any way you need.”
“Helene told me of a flower that makes Lady Helga itch. Do you know of this flower? Is it dangerous? Or is it only Lady Helga who reacts to it?”
“’Tis called Tybast, and ’tis a shrub that bears flowers in the spring. The flowers are harmless, unless eaten. The berries are poisonous as is the bark. And, aye, only Lady Helga gets angry red bumps and itches. She recovers within a day or so.” Wilma’s forehead crinkled.
“Can you locate a flower or two? I am of a mind to have Lady Helga, um, take to her bed for the rest of the day. If you and Greta and Thora will aid me, I intend to take charge of the household, the kitchens, and the keys to the spice chests this day.”
Ainslin paused when Greta snickered.
“Greta, ’tis not Christian to wish ill on others. Helene, go play in the other room.” Wilma sent the girl a stern look.
“Can I have cheese and honey?” Helene wheedled.
“May I. Of course, sweeting,” Greta answered. She waited until the little girl left the drying room. “’Tis wicked you are milady, but I find your solution appealing. Very appealing.”
Ainslin thanked the lord for her meeting with Greta, Helene, and Thora earlier. They were women of like minds.
“I will do the deed myself. I know ’tis somewhat devious and mayhap a sin, but ’twill be for the good of all. On the morrow, Jarl Olsson, Lady Helga’s betrothed, arrives for the feast. Whilst the good lady’s recovering, we’ll transfer her belongings to the jarl’s ship, and bid her a blessed goodbye.” Ainslin waited for Wilma’s response to her scheme, she already had Greta’s.
“Methinks, you have the right of it, milady. You will avoid all the dissent Lady Helga will try to sow, and, in truth, we are all weary of her rule here. I will procure the flower for you right now.” Wilma removed her apron and exited the room.
“Greta, I have a pretty trinket in the trunk in my chamber. ’Tis a small box painted in navy and scarlet with gold engravings. I will take it to Lady Helga as a peace gift, but first I will rub the flower all over it. And then I will tear the petals into pieces and lay them in the inside. Will you fetch it for me? I’ve promised my lord to go nowhere unaccompanied.” Ainslin added, “And we will keep this between us—no?”
“Aye. I’ll go right away. And I’ll find Thora too.” Greta doffed her apron, picked her skirts up, and winked at Ainslin. “Keep an eye on Helene for me please, Ainslin. I think the holding fortunate to have you for its lady!”
Not thirty minutes later, Ainslin approached the kitchens. She carried the picnic basket with the hand-carved box, which had belonged to Hadrain’s first wife, hidden below the blanket. A tad nervous, she sent another prayer to God pleading for forgiveness for the sin she was about to commit. Spreading her lips and curving them at the corners, she sauntered through the doorway.
Just as it happened before, the hustle and bustle of chamber died away in snail-like increments as her people became aware she stood in the room. Helga was, again, the last to notice. Her slow, smarmy smirk, one of certain victory, provoked a rustle of whispers and snickers.
“Good eve, all. Helga, my new sister, I come to bring you a gift of peace.” Ainslin kept her spine rigid, her bearing proud, and her garish smile fixed in place. She wore one of her finest velvet gowns, with a gold and green tunic, and sleeves edged with Frankish lace.
Helga harrumphed, but at the mention of the word gift, a greedy glint glistened in her beady, watery blue eyes. “A gift of peace?”
“Aye.” Ainslin halted in front of her nemesis and stared her down. She set the basket on a nearby table, lifted the blanket, and pulled out the beautiful box.
Admiring ahs and oohs swirled around the chamber.
“I thank you for the lovely picnic my lord and I enjoyed this day. The food and drink had us lingering for hours with each other. Why, I had to insist he return to his men, that I could bring you this present.”
Helga stiffened, her unctuous smirk dipped.
Greta told Ainslin that Torsten had never lingered with his first wife, had never taken her on a picnic, and trained constantly with his warriors. Now, Ainslin had declared the great extents to which Torsten had gone to show his esteem of his new wife. ’Twould be clear to all and sundry that Helga’s former influence waned while Ainslin’s waxed.
“Inside the box are the crushed petals of flowers from Normandy. Their perfume is heavenly. Please accept this small token of my husband’s and my appreciation of all of your hard work.”
Ainslin noticed Helga’s mouth canting into a sour line, but when she offered the box to the vindictive witch, Helga snatched the gift.
“I wish you enjoyment of the beauty of the box and its contents.” Gracious to a fault, Ainslin bowed to Helga, and ambled out of the room.
She forced a sluggish pace not wanting any to guess of the thundering of her heart in her ears. As soon as she was out of sight of the kitchens, she near ran to Wilma’s cottage. The door was ajar and it opened wide when she hurried up the path.
Helene, Greta, and Thora ran out. “Well?”
“’Tis done.” Ainslin fair panted the words.
“’Twas fast, milady.” Wilma was framed in the doorway.
“We’ll go now, and come and get you when Helga crawls to her bed.” Greta linked hands with Thora. “I cannot wait to tell you all, Ainslin.”
“Ww will have much to do to get the evening meal ready in time,” Wilma warned. “But, we’ll do our best.”
“Me too,” Helene piped.
Wilma was proved right. It took longer than expected for Helga to succumb to effects of the flowers and by the time Ainslin addressed the women in the kitchen the sun was low in the sky.
“As Lady Ainslin, wife to Jarl Torsten, I expect to come to know you well over the next few moons. I want to learn of your thoughts and hopes, of your likes and dislikes, and especially of aught that is wrong or not working. My way is not to quarrel, never to hit or strike a single soul, but to enjoy each other’s company as we work to improve things for us all. Now, I fear we must rush to finish the náttverðr. You must correct me if I pronounce your Norse words incorrectly for I do not want any to be ashamed of me.” She clapped her hands. “To work, my ladies.”