Page 70 of The Viking’s Captive

Because of the large number of people who required a bath, the bathing house and sweat rooms were set aside first for the women’s use, then the men’s.

It was there that Ingrith finally rested her weary bones next to Breanne, Vana, and Drifa, along with Lady Alinor. Naked, the women sat up to their necks in the bubbling, steamy water of the natural spring that came up from the ground into the stone pools. Later, after they’d soaped themselves off, they would move to the clear, cool water of the pool in the next room. There was also a separate steam house for those who were interested.

“And so, one job completed. What shall we do about the next one?” Ingrith asked with a long sigh of contentment.

“Please, Ingrith. If you suggest another butchering job, like cattle, I think I may vomit,” Breanne said.

Ingrith laughed. “Nay, this is a task of another nature altogether. Tyra.”

“Aaaahhhh!” the other ladies said.

“I recommend we skip ahead to the last step of our plan. Jealousy. Adam has got to do something to make Tyra jealous,” Vana suggested. “But we cannot go to him for help. He is as bad as she is.”

“I know, I know,” Drifa said. “I can do it!”

“You?” the other ladies asked skeptically.

“Me! Really, it will be perfect. I will go to Adam to discuss my flowers and plants. I will ask for his advice on ways to use my herbs for medicinal purposes. Actually, I have wanted to do so for some time anyway. And then I can mention in passing to Tyra that since she is not interested in any lasting relationship with the man, then I am setting my cap for him. What think you?”

“It could work.” Alinor tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I must go find my babe, and I must find Thork and have him eat soap for the new word he has been teaching all the children of Stoneheim today, but let me add this thought. Women have swarmed around Adam all his life. Tyra can see he is an attractive man. To be jealous, she must believe that Adam returns the attraction. So Drifa’s suggestion may work. Adam loves to talk about his herbs and he will appear interested.” At the sound of a squalling babe in the adjoining room, Alinor rose from the waters, her breasts heavy with milk, and grabbed for a robe.

“I could keep offering him tasty bits of food,” Ingrith offered. “You know, show him preferential treatment.”

“And I could ask for his advice in building a hospitium here at Stoneheim,” Breanne said. “I know he would talk in earnest with me about that. Tyra would not have to know the subject of our conversation.”

Everyone nodded.

Vana asked, “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” the others agreed. “Tyra would never believe you have eyes for Adam when Rafn is anywhere about.”

“Well, then, do you think we should engage any other women to help in our cause?” Vana asked, not at all perturbed by their assessment of her value in the jealousy scheme.

The four of them thought for a long moment.

“ ‘Tis best that we keep this amongst ourselves,” In-grith said, and all concurred, especially when she added, “‘Tis our secret.”

Like minds and all that …

“I’m thinking that perhaps it is time to go home to Dragonstead,” Tykir told Bolthor as they rode back to Stoneheim. The patrols had finished early and should be back enjoying a horn of ale by late afternoon. “I am getting too old for this nonsense. Riding hither and yon, freezing my nose and toes and possibly other more important body parts. Pretending to be having a grand time when I would much rather put my feet up before the fire and bounce my little one on my knees.”

“You are not yet a graybeard, my friend. Nor am I … though you do have five years on me, now that I think on it.”

Tykir reached over and punched Bolthor on the upper arm, even as they rode side by side. The skald winced as if he’d been hurt, which was impossible with all the furs he wore. In truth, Tykir would never do anything to harm the man. Despite Tykir’s complaining about always having the inept poet at his side, Bolthor had been a good and true friend through the years.

Unaware of Tykir’s rambling thoughts, Bolthor continued the discussion of Tykir’s discontent. “Methinks you are just frustrated with your nephew. You are not a man accustomed to defeat, and thus far Adam has not jumped into the wench’s bed furs, as you had hoped.”

“Mayhap you are right. Am I an interfering busybody just because I want to see the boy happy?”

“He is no longer a boy, Tykir. He can make his own decisions.”

“Hah! Two years of chastity! What kind of decision is that? Grief must have turned the boy barmy. And that Arab is no help. Trying to set up a harem for him! Adam needs a bedmate, not a litter.”

“Do my ears play me false?” Rafn said, trotting his horse up so that they rode three abreast. “You are going to leave Stoneheim, with all these matters unresolved? I thought we had a plan, did we not … a seduction plan for Adam?” He had been riding behind Tykir and Bolthor on the wide fjordside path leading to Stoneheim, along with several dozen other soldiers. And he’d obviously been eavesdropping on their conversation. “If you people leave now, I am condemned to remaining unmarried. Vana and I will never wed. I will no doubt have to live the chaste life as Adam does, except in my case it will be forever.”

Tykir had to smile at Rafn’s doleful tone. “What would you have us do, Rafn?”

“We cannot just give up. What is the next step in the plan, Bolthor?”