just wonderful. A dwarf-sized welcoming troop.
“Oh. Well, thank you very much. If that is all—”
“Methinks you need some helpers,” Alrek added in a rush before Adam could protest or say something mean-spirited, which he most assuredly would have done.
“Perchance Tunni could run errands for you. Kristin is good at makin’ up beds and such. Takes her a while, but she gets the job done by and by. And me … well, Iwas thinking I could go down to the stables and take care of yer horse.”
Alrek was out of breath by the time he finished his long-winded plea … and that was what it was. A plea.
“Or I could polish yer sword.”
Adam was horrified at the prospect of the disaster-prone child handling a sharp object or standing near a nervous stallion. “Uh, your offer is generous, but Destiny, my horse, is being cared for by one of the Stoneheim grooms. And I just honed the blade of my sword a sennight ago. ‘Tis best not to overhandle a sword.”
“I never knew that. Do not overhandle a sword. I will have to remember that. See, Tunni, I told you how smart the man was.”
If the rascal thought he was going to soften him with flattery, he was sorely deluded. Adam was about to tell the lot of them to go away and stop bothering him, but the little girl—Kristin—the one who could be Adela all those years ago, except her hair was blond and Adela’s had been black, and her eyes were honey brown while Adela’s had been blue … well, she was losing her shyness. Inch by inch she moved closer to Adam, who would have inched away from her if his bed wasn’t built into the wall.
When she was practically nose to nose with him, she put a tiny hand on his forearm and said in her squeaky, little-girl voice, “I like you.”
Adam could not take much more of this agony. He put his face in his hands, trying his best not to lash out at the children, who had no way of knowing how much their very presence affected him.
The little girl hugged him then. Nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck, wrapping her sticklike arms around his shoulders, patting him on the back as if tocomfort him, she whispered the most incredible thing: “Be happy.”
The selfsame words Adela had whispered to him just before she died.
She was tempted but not by the food …
Tyra was miserable.
Her father was deathly ill and might very well pass to the Other World on the morrow if the healer’s operation failed. Even now, the Valkyries could be preparing an escort to Asgard for him.
Her sisters were nigh driving her mad with their constant nagging about marriage, marriage, marriage. And as always when in their company, she felt so … inferior.
Alrek and his brood had latched on to Adam and Rashid like barnacles on a ship’s bottom and were tripping over themselves trying to do Adam favors he neither wanted or deserved. Like right now, they were presumably off at the well house laundering Adam’s hose … a job he had no doubt given them just to get them out from underfoot.
She was no worse than Alrek, though. She, who had disdained men for many a year, had developed this embarrassing fascination with the man. When he was out of sight, she kept looking for him. When he was within sight, she tried her best to avoid looking at him. And when he was close to her
—oh, when he was close to her, by all the gods and goddesses
!—her face heated, her heart raced, her breasts swelled, and she felt the most uncomfortable ache in her lower belly. She hated it!
She let her gaze roam the great hall that was so familiar to her. Raised platforms surrounded each of the five large open hearths. On these platforms were long trestle tables, brought in just before each of the two dailymeals, and ornately carved settles, or benches, at the lower end of the hall.
She sat at the high table on the dais of the great hall now, awaiting the evening meal … sure to be a feast of sorts, as all meals were at Stoneheim under Ingrith’s supervision. Sure enough,
“Oh. Well, thank you very much. If that is all—”
“Methinks you need some helpers,” Alrek added in a rush before Adam could protest or say something mean-spirited, which he most assuredly would have done.
“Perchance Tunni could run errands for you. Kristin is good at makin’ up beds and such. Takes her a while, but she gets the job done by and by. And me … well, Iwas thinking I could go down to the stables and take care of yer horse.”
Alrek was out of breath by the time he finished his long-winded plea … and that was what it was. A plea.
“Or I could polish yer sword.”
Adam was horrified at the prospect of the disaster-prone child handling a sharp object or standing near a nervous stallion. “Uh, your offer is generous, but Destiny, my horse, is being cared for by one of the Stoneheim grooms. And I just honed the blade of my sword a sennight ago. ‘Tis best not to overhandle a sword.”
“I never knew that. Do not overhandle a sword. I will have to remember that. See, Tunni, I told you how smart the man was.”
If the rascal thought he was going to soften him with flattery, he was sorely deluded. Adam was about to tell the lot of them to go away and stop bothering him, but the little girl—Kristin—the one who could be Adela all those years ago, except her hair was blond and Adela’s had been black, and her eyes were honey brown while Adela’s had been blue … well, she was losing her shyness. Inch by inch she moved closer to Adam, who would have inched away from her if his bed wasn’t built into the wall.
When she was practically nose to nose with him, she put a tiny hand on his forearm and said in her squeaky, little-girl voice, “I like you.”
Adam could not take much more of this agony. He put his face in his hands, trying his best not to lash out at the children, who had no way of knowing how much their very presence affected him.
The little girl hugged him then. Nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck, wrapping her sticklike arms around his shoulders, patting him on the back as if tocomfort him, she whispered the most incredible thing: “Be happy.”
The selfsame words Adela had whispered to him just before she died.
She was tempted but not by the food …
Tyra was miserable.
Her father was deathly ill and might very well pass to the Other World on the morrow if the healer’s operation failed. Even now, the Valkyries could be preparing an escort to Asgard for him.
Her sisters were nigh driving her mad with their constant nagging about marriage, marriage, marriage. And as always when in their company, she felt so … inferior.
Alrek and his brood had latched on to Adam and Rashid like barnacles on a ship’s bottom and were tripping over themselves trying to do Adam favors he neither wanted or deserved. Like right now, they were presumably off at the well house laundering Adam’s hose … a job he had no doubt given them just to get them out from underfoot.
She was no worse than Alrek, though. She, who had disdained men for many a year, had developed this embarrassing fascination with the man. When he was out of sight, she kept looking for him. When he was within sight, she tried her best to avoid looking at him. And when he was close to her
—oh, when he was close to her, by all the gods and goddesses
!—her face heated, her heart raced, her breasts swelled, and she felt the most uncomfortable ache in her lower belly. She hated it!
She let her gaze roam the great hall that was so familiar to her. Raised platforms surrounded each of the five large open hearths. On these platforms were long trestle tables, brought in just before each of the two dailymeals, and ornately carved settles, or benches, at the lower end of the hall.
She sat at the high table on the dais of the great hall now, awaiting the evening meal … sure to be a feast of sorts, as all meals were at Stoneheim under Ingrith’s supervision. Sure enough,
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