Page 70 of My Fair Viking

"Yea, she wants me to read my herb journals to her so that she can try transplanting some wild plants into her gardens for medicinal purposes. We arranged to meet tomorrow morn for just that purpose. You could join us, but I expect you will be off doing warlike things. Lopping off heads and such." He flashed another grin her way, just to irritate her. A grin, not a simper.

"Adam, would you care to try a new delicacy I have invented… pig's gizzards in dill sauce?" Ingrith had just come up and was holding out a small tray toward him, which held a hollow manchet loaf containing the concoction.

Tyra took the small knife from the shield at her waist and was about to spear one for herself when Ingrith smacked her hand. "They are not for you, sister. They are for Adam to try." She smiled coyly at him. "I made some honey and walnut cakes for you, too, which are still cooling. They are a favorite of yours, are they not?"

"Huh?" he and Tyra said at the same time.

If he didn't know better, he would think Ingrith was flirting with him.

"Why are you flirting with him?" Tyra asked.

No one could accuse Tyra of beating around the bush.

"Well, why not? You do not seem particularly interested. I assumed he was fair game. And Drifa said he is ever so nice."

Fair game? Me? Nice? He wasn't so sure about being considered nice, but he rather liked the concept of being fair game. So he puffed out his chest and smiled warmly at Ingrith. He made sure it was a smile, not a simper.

Tyra used one of her big feet to stomp on his toes and murmured something about, "Lecherous, loathsome lout."

"Ouch!" he said, pulling his booted foot up to rest on his knee and rubbing it with great exaggeration.

Just then Breanne walked up and sat down in the empty chair on his other side.

"Adam, I need your advice."

Tyra made a most unflattering, masculine-sounding snort on his other side. She'd better not scratch her groin. He could not bear to picture her in the gown, which was temptation itself, performing lewd manly gestures.

He cocked his head, indicating Breanne should elaborate.

"I have been thinking about building a hospitium here at Stoneheim. What think you of the idea?"

"Do you have someone to man it for you?"

She batted her eyelashes at him.

Good Lord, another of Tyra's sisters flirting with me. What is going on here? "If Father Efrid and the midwife are willing to work in it, then I think it is a wonderful idea. I will not be here much longer, though " He wanted to make it absolutely clear to one and all that his stay at Stoneheim had not been his idea to begin with, and it would end as soon as King Thorvald recovered... or died.

"Planning on going somewhere, Saxon?" Tyra asked, slurring her words.

"Exactly how many horns of ale have you drunk?"

"Not enough, apparently. I can still see your leering face."

Leering? First she says I simper, now I leer. The ale must be affecting her perceptions. 'Tis past time for me to take the offensive here. "Nay, I am not going anywhere soon... leastways, not till a certain pact is fulfilled. " He watched with great satisfaction as her face bloomed with color

Then he turned his back on Tyra and began to discuss the potential hospitium project with Breanne in earnest. They ate and talked at the same time .. about the size of the building, examining tables, chests, windows, its location... over dozens of dishes, each more elaborate or tasty than the previous ones. Ingrith truly was an artisan in the kitchen. Breanne was an artisan in her own way, and brilliant of mind Not to mention being beautiful, both of them . . Ingrith with her Norse blondness and Breanne with her redheaded Irish good looks.

It was some time before Adam turned back to Tyra, only to realize that the meal was over and the entertainment about to begin… and that Tyra had collected her own set of admirers. She was flirting, like her sisters, except not with him. Dammit!

A Viking soldier by the name of Gunter, reputed to be the best swordsman in all Norway, was tugging on one of her war braids, teasing her about some saucy remark she'd made earlier. The maids all swooned when Gunter walked by, but he was too pretty by half for a man, if you asked Adam… which nobody did of course

Egil Iversson, another noted warrior, was asking her if she'd like to take a stroll with him about the ramparts. Egil's braies were so tight you could see his prodigious maleparts. He was wearing an enlarged codpiece, no doubt. Beware of men in tight braies, that was Adam's philosophy, which he would pass on to his daughters someday, if he ever had any daughters. Or mayhap he would pass it on to Tyra... once he was within ducking distance. Adam decided to follow Tyra's suit and downed a horn of ale in one long swallow. He felt it all the way to his toes.

"Really, Tyra, you should come for a stroll with me," Egil was saying. "There is something interesting I would like to show you."

I'll bet there is. What kind of stroll does the filthy fornicator have in mind? 'Tis dark outside. And cold I hope he freezes off his... codpiece.

"Nay, Tyra cannot go strolling with you. She promised to dance with me later." 'Twas Gunter the Peacock speaking now.