The Betrothed Sister by Carol McGrath Page A

Padar’s smiles for Gudrun, searching deep into the shadows, seeking him. He was not present this time so she said to Lady Ingar, ‘Where is Padar tonight, my lady?’
    â€˜Oh, Padar, well, my dear, the skald has been called back to Roskilde. He took an early supper and galloped away from us for the coast.’
    â€˜He is my skald. He has gone without a word to me.’
    â€˜He will return soon,’ was all that Lady Ingar said. ‘There was no time to explain anything to you and besides, I gather that his mission is secret. Your three house coerls remain. You are well protected here.’
    Thea glanced over at her protectors, all three men deep in conversation with Jarl Niels. She wondered if they too had to earn their supper. There was a frown on Jarl Niels’ face. She caught him looking over at Lady Ingar and signalling for her to join him in the private chamber behind the hall. A little later, as plums were served, both master and mistress took their leave of the company and disappeared through the leather curtain that divided the back chambers from the manor hall. As Thea supped on her plums and thick cream, she wondered if the secret conversation between Jarl Niels and his wife had anything to do with Padar’s departure.
    â€˜Come with us, Thea,’ Mary said to Thea after the empty dish of stewed plums had been removed from the table. ‘We shall embroider for an hour before we go to our rest.’
    Thea followed Mary and the other women into an alcove, far from the central hearth but warmed by its own brazier. Mary pulled forward an embroidery frame that Thea had only given a cursory glance at before. The frame before her was such a feast for the eyes, she forgot all about Jarl Niels’ abrupt departure at supper.
    She peered closely at it, bending her head, gently touching the threads. Shapes were marked out in charcoal for them to work on. A part of the work was completed already. She made out the central picture first, a tree that sprouted many branches and oak leaves and to either side two ships in full sail, both with miniature warriors aboard them. The ships faced each other across the tree. There were crosses on the ship masks and one of the vessels seemed to possess a dragon figurehead at both its prow and stern. The other was simpler with an anchor balanced at the stern. At the prow stood a strange creature that she thought must be a griffin. Her eyes followed the embroidery to its borders where she now saw a patterned band and below that a series of interlocking oak leaves.
    â€˜It is the story of Olaf Haraldson and his brother Harald of Norway, Queen Elizaveta’s first husband. We are embroidering it for the queen’s chapel at Schleswig – a gift.’
    â€˜Harald of Norway was another thief after my father’s kingdom,’ Thea said crossly.
    â€˜He did not win this time either.’ Mary laughed and pointed to the ships. ‘This is the story of Olaf’s sailing race. You see they raced their ships to Trondheim to win the crown of Norway. They were half-brothers. Olaf,’ she indicated a figure with a bow, ‘won the race and so swiftly that he was able to take part in the church service, reaching the church before the arrow that he shot from that bow during the voyage had arrived.’
    â€˜Impossible,’ Thea said.
    â€˜We think God smiled on Olaf who was a well-respected king and a good Christian. Look, Thea, at the way we show the waves. The ships look as if they really move. Many now say Olaf should be a saint.’
    â€˜And the tree?’
    â€˜The tree of life. We do not displease the fates.’
    â€˜Which bit do you wish to work on Thea?’ Elizabeth said brightly.
    â€˜Not the dragon prow. I am working on that,’ Princess Gunnhild squawked up.
    â€˜I am happy to work on the waves,’ Thea said dreamily. ‘I like the sense of moving forward with the tide.’
    â€˜Good, let us sort