The petite, raven-haired beauty was a jewel. Eadyth felt like a lump of granite next to her. Wallowing in misery, Eadyth knew she could not compete with such a beautiful creature.
When Eadyth introduced herself, Asa’s eyes widened and she invited Eadyth to step into her home in the rear of the market stall. Eadyth looked around quickly at the small but immaculate home, decorated with several finely carved chairs and tables—probably from Eirik’s treasure room, she thought meanly. She tried to picture Eirik here with Asa, sitting before that fireplace, eating her food, going up to that cozy second-floor bedloft. Oh, Lord.
To her mortification, she burst into tears.
* * *
Eirik was thoroughly disgusted. He had just returned from Winchester where he had spent a day arguing with Edred and his advisors about their plans to invade Northumbria and all the shires who conspired against him with Archbishop Wulfstan and his uncle Eric Bloodaxe. His arguments had fallen on deaf ears. Edred would be waging a bloody war, and Northumbria would be the loser. Although Ravenshire would not be one of the targets, many of Eirik’s neighbors would be hit, and Eirik found himself in the unenviable position of having to choose sides amongst friends.
He had to return to Ravenshire as soon as possible, and not just because of the threats posed by Edred. Eirik was beginning to feel guilty over his treatment of Eadyth.
Hell’s flames, the woman was driving him mad. He hated her meddling, shrewish, managing ways. And he especially hated her lying to him about Steven of Gravely. But, Lord, he loved the woman to distraction. They would have to find a way to work out their problems.
He approached the harbor and saw Tykir loading his ship. He remembered that his brother would be leaving for Hedeby on the morrow. He would miss him sorely.
Tykir barely glanced up when he called out to him. Tykir’s stiff demeanor bespoke a coiled anger.
“Now what?”
“Your wife is in Jorvik looking for you,” Tykir informed him flatly when he finished handing some barrels to his crew members.
Eirik raised a brow quizzically. “Eadyth? In Jorvik? Looking for me?”
“Taking lessons from your parrot now, are you, Eirik?”
“Yea, and I need no lessons in sarcasm from you, my brother. Why is my wife looking for me?”
Tykir put his hands on his hips and glared at him. “You are a lackwit. Why the hell do you think she seeks you out? To tend her bees?”
“I do not care for the tone of your voice.”
“And what do you intend to do about it?”
Eirik clenched his fists angrily and could not believe he was about to strike his own brother. Breathing deeply, in and out, he calmed his temper and asked with forced politeness, “Brother dear, why is my wife in Jorvik?”
“Because the mindless maid misses her loathsome lout of a husband, brother dear,” Tykir retorted with equal sweetness. “And because she is worried sick about you.” Tykir exhaled loudly with disgust and advised, “Go home, Eirik. Go home and make a family with Eadyth. I do not know why, but the lady loves you.”
Eirik grinned. “Yea, I am a lovable lout, am I not?”
“It runs in the family,” Tykir agreed, punching Eirik playfully on the arm. “Oh, by the by,” he added casually, “do you have any idea why Eadyth has been practicing standing on her head?”
Eirik choked on a surprised swallow of air, and it took three harsh thumps on the back from Tykir before he could breathe again. “You lie, Tykir. I know you made that up.”
“Did I?” Tykir said, examining his fingernails in a bored fashion. “Well, mayhap I misheard her.”
The two brothers laughed, wrapping their arms around each other’s shoulders. They went onto Tykir’s ship and drank some of the excellent mead Eadyth had brought for Tykir’s voyage. After they talked for a short time, Eirik informed Tykir of Edred’s plans and expressed thanks that Tykir would be leaving Britain and the upcoming fray. Tykir told him he would be sailing at dawn, so he would not see his brother again before departing.