Page 88 of Heart of Winter
“The thing you forget about foxes,” Erik drawled, sweeping down the side of the table, his voice smug, Birger in tow. His gaze, when it flickered to Oliver on his way, sparkled. “They’re more likely to bite than a wolf.”
The lords all stood, chairs scraping back.
“Sit,” Erik said, doing so himself, in the ornate, carved chair at the head of the table.
The room rang with the noise of everyone complying, and in that space, Erik glanced first toward Leif, with a nod, and then to Oliver, with the faintest hint of a smile.
Oliver smiled back, a little, and the last of his nerves settled.
“All right,” Erik said, as the room quieted, projecting his voice so it could be heard all down the length of the table. “Shall we begin?”
~*~
“I say we stop pussy-footing around about it,” Askr said, a half-hour later. “It’s time we launched a full assault on the mountains and wiped them out for good. It’s nothing but killing and stealing from the fuckers, and no good can come from them being left alone this long.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say it,” Lord Ingvar said, “but I agree with Askr on this.”
Erik sat leaned back in his chair, contemplative, toying absently with the bead at the end of the braid that lay against his chest.
“If we go by the specifics of the Old Treaty,” Lord Heski put in, “then they’ve been the first to violate it. They’re only growing bolder in their raids along the borderlands.”
“You’ve said it before yourself, Uncle,” Leif said. “That an enemy left unchecked is akin to all but handing them the weapon yourself and allowing them to take a swing.”
“I have said so,” Erik conceded, tone heavy with thought. “But I don’t want to allow my bias against the Beserkirs to sway my decision, not when lives and alliances are at stake.”
“Lives!” Askr said. “The only lives they have are the ones they take – like your own brother-in-law’s, for gods’ sakes!”
Erik sent him a flat look, while Leif huffed an angry breath. “I’m well aware of the lives they’ve taken, Askr,” Erik said, coldly.
“With all due respect, my lords,” Birger spoke up, “it isn’t as simple as doing away with them. No matter how little we like it, the Beserkirs are one of the Waste Clans, and there are other names on that treaty besides our own.”
“The Úlfheðnar won’t take much convincing,” Lord Heski said. “They’ve no love for the savages.”
“But wiping out an entire clan is no small thing,” Erik said. “It could very well be seen as an act of war and expansion, and our peace with the other clans is, at best, tenuous. It’s bad enough there’s war boiling to our south; we don’t need another full-scale war in the Waste.”
Grumbled assent.
“We need to bring it to the others at the festival,” Birger said. “A full clan council, like in the old days.”
Nods and agreements.
But then Askr pinned a narrow look on Oliver. “Speaking of war to our south.”
Oliver hadn’t spoken in some time, save to offer a hello after his introduction. He gave himself a mental shake, now, and sat up straighter in his chair.
“Are you marching on Aquitainia, Erik?” Askr continued. “Joining their war effort?”
Curious murmurs rippled up and down the table.
Erik gathered himself visibly, his tone becoming officious. “By now, most, if not all of you will have met Tessa. She’s been helping Revna with her hospitality efforts, and she’s Leif’s betrothed.”
“Soon to be betrothed,” Leif added, in an undertone.
Erik tipped his head to the point. Then continued: “Duke William of Drakewell, and both his heirs fell on the front lines in their efforts to force the Sels out of the Crownlands.” He glanced toward Oliver – wanting him to confirm it, Oliver realized with a start, and, when he kept silent, wanting Oliver to pick up the narrative and carry it forward.
A heavy responsibility, beneath the weight of so many noble, Northern eyes.
He took a breath and said, “With all three of the Drake men dead, the duchy of Drakewell will now automatically come under the power of the husband of whichever daughter marries first. Doubtless, by this point, the lower nobles will be squabbling amongst themselves for the honor, all of them only counts and barons, and without any great strength of arms. My cousin Tessa is the younger of the two girls, but, being more agreeable in nature was thought to be the best candidate for a marriage alliance by my aunt, the Lady Katherine. That is why Tessa and I are here – so that she may marry Leif and make him the new Duke of Drakewell.”
