Page 31 of Viking in Love

“I promise that my sisters and I will do all we can to reciprocate your kindness.”

Oh, please, do not. Enough is enough. “M’lady, look about you,” he said as they entered the great hall. “My keep…every space in it…is cleaner than it has ever been, thanks to your efforts.” New rushes mixed with juniper tops crackled under foot and emitted sweet odors. Laundry was being done daily so that there were always fresh garments and bed linens. He would not be surprised to find one of the princesses hanging from the rafters dusting cobwebs from the high beams. To his consternation, even the swords and shields in his weapons room had been polished to a high sheen.

“’Tis the least I could do.”

I shudder to think what the best might be. He led her up to the high table and seated her next to Drifa, her half-Arab, half-Norse sister of the petite body and slanted eyes. She was the one obsessed with gardening.

Nodding to Drifa, he remarked with dry humor, “I noticed that you swept the dirt in the courtyard today and planted more rosebushes.” And disrupted my men in their military exercises every time you bent over. Not only had she planted more bushes, but she had erected little knee-high spiked-twig fences around them to prevent the dogs from lifting their legs there.

Like her sister, she blushed prettily and announced, “The kitchen herb garden is flourishing once again,” as if she were handing him a pot of gold. While he was appreciative, he would have preferred the pot of gold.

“Next I am thinking of a grape arbor.”

Help me, God! He made his way to the center of the table and plopped down next to Wulf, who was staring fixedly at the food lined up before him.

“Now what?” Caedmon inquired.

“Look at this. Even King Edgar does not have such fine fare when holding a grand feast.”

He surveyed the table and sighed. Thanks to Ingrith, yet another of the princesses, his kitchen was, indeed, now producing mouth-watering dishes fit for a…king. Usually, the regular evening meal included bread, water or ale, a companaticum or whatever happened to be in the broth simmering in the huge kitchen cauldron, and, if they were lucky, meat, fish, or whatever was available in season. Instead, he saw slabs and joints of mutton and venison, vinegar-brined sea trout, pigeon in lemon wine sauce, lentils with scraps of lamb, baked lamprey sprinkled with dill, mashed turnip, and a sallat of beets, shredded cabbage, nuts, and apples in a mustard-looking aspic.

“What is that?” he said, dipping his spoon into one wooden platter, then licking his lips at the delicious taste.

“Do you know nothing, Caedmon? ’Tis blank-mangere. Chicken in cumin cream.”

“Where would I have ever learned that?” he asked indignantly. “How did you know?”

“I asked Ingrith.”

He smacked him on the arm, then remarked, “Ingrith?”

“Yea. Ingrith and I have something in common.”

“What, pray tell?”

“Skin.” He laughed.

“You can make mock of me, and all this,” he said, waving a hand to indicate his great hall with all its cleanliness and fine food, “but it all poses a problem for me, which is no laughing matter.”

“What?”

“Some of the higher-born men in my ranks are thinking about inviting their wives for extended visits.”

“That could only be good for Larkspur.”

“You would think so. Men longing for home do not make the best soldiers. But that presumes that conditions would stay the same here at Larkspur, and that presumes that the princesses will stay, which is not going to happen.”

Digging into a melt-in-your-mouth apple tart covered with sweet cream, Caedmon closed his eyes to relish the flavors.

“There is an even worse problem,” he said then. “What if word gets out that I set a finer table than the royal house of Edgar the Greedy?”

“He will be here faster than a dog on a bone. But think, Caedmon, what will he do when he sees four beautiful princesses here?”

“Bloody hell!”

“Edgar the Depraved will take them to bed, sure as sin. All of them. Mayhap even all of them together. Willing or not.”

They both observed a moment of silence, taking in that mind-picture.