Abdul began squawking, “Big trouble, big trouble, big trouble. Awk. Oh, Lord. Awk. Big trouble, big trouble…”
Eirik said a foul word and went to his daughter. After comforting her back to sleep, he sought out Wilfrid, who was fortifying himself with vast quantities of mead in the great hall.
“Well?” he demanded icily.
“She went back to Hawks’ Lair and took her son with her,” Wilfrid said all in one breath, as if he had rehearsed the words.
“And how did she escape my locked bedchamber? Fly through the window?”
Wilfrid groaned and put his head in his hands. “Nay, she cracked the skulls of Bertha and Brian.”
Eirik’s eyes widened in surprise. “She what? Never mind. I do not think I want to know… just yet. And where were you when all this skull cracking was taking place?”
“I was patrolling with a guard near Peatshire. Some strange men were seen skulking about.” At the questioning rise of Eirik’s brows, Wilfrid shook his head. “They were gone by the time we arrived.”
“And Eadyth risked her life and that of John to leave Ravenshire? Why?”
“Well, she did order a goodly number of men to accompany her. So, to be fair, she did take precautions against Gravely. As to why she left… well, Bertha did hint that, mayhap, she might have led the mistress to believe…”
“What?” he asked impatiently.
“. . . that you went to Jorvik to be with Asa.”
“Bloody Hell! Whyever would Eadyth believe that?”
Wilfrid shrugged. “Who understands the turn of a woman’s mind? But you left with no explanation to Bertha for your hasty departure, and I was not here to explain, and, well, you did hasten to Jorvik, and Asa does reside there, and—”
“I thought I told Bertha why… hmmm… mayhap in my haste I neglected to mention…” His words trailed off as he stroked his upper lip thoughtfully, deciding he might have neglected to inform Bertha exactly why he needed to rush to Jorvik. “Still, Eadyth should not have left Ravenshire against my orders.”
“For a certainty,” Wilfrid agreed, slamming his goblet down on the table for emphasis.
“Will ye lock her in yer bedchamber again with naught but a harem veil ter cover her bare arse?” Bertha asked hopefully behind him.
Eirik almost jumped from his seat with surprise at his cook’s shrewish voice. “God’s Bones, Bertha! Must you creep up behind a man without warning?”
“Ye mean like yer vicious wife with the heavy hand? Do you see what she did to me? Do you?”
Bertha’s head was covered by a huge swath of linen, large enough to bandage an elephant Eirik had seen once in his travels.
“Gawd! All I did was laugh at her garment!” Bertha complained.
Eirik gaped at his outspoken cook. “Bertha, ’tis not your place to mock your lady.”
“Well, you would think the lady would appreciate some helpful advice. Jist ’cause I remarked on her breasts not wobblin’, as a woman’s should, even in that scandalous garment, was no reason to split me head open.”
“Wobbling?” Eirik and Wilfrid both sputtered out.
“Yea, wobblin’. Men like a little jiggle in the tits, you know,” she informed them sagely. “And I have told yer lady wife so on more than one occasion.”
Wilfrid rolled his eyes at Eirik, and they both grinned.
After listening to more of Bertha’s complaints, Eirik dispatched her to start cleaning his bedchamber. “And stop repeating those tales about Eadyth’s attire. She will not be pleased.”
“Hah! Everyone already knows, anyway. We are all jist waitin’ fer yer next move. I think puttin’ her in a cage out in the bailey might be a nice touch.”
Eirik ignored Bertha’s unwanted advice and turned back to Wilfrid, more serious now. “I cannot leave Emma. She starts screaming at the least little start as memory of her mother’s death comes back in bits and spurts. Take twenty of my men and go after Eadyth.”
“Now?”
“Yea, I want her back here tonight, even if you have to tie her to a horse to accomplish the deed.”
Wilfrid stood reluctantly, obviously not looking forward to the task. “What will I tell her?”