Page 70 of Edge of the Wild

Gazes lifted; cups paused in mid-air; more than a few smiles appeared; there were some snorts and muffled sniggers, too.

Lord Askr spotted them, and shouted a laugh. “If it isn’t Lord Icicle! How’re all the bits, lad? Anything snap off?” Laughter bubbled up all around him; Askr himself looked very pleased with his joke – and his gaze held a question; a dare. He was still testing, still pushing to see if Oliver would bend…or break.

Beside him, Oliver heard Erik take a sharp breath, prepared to defend him.

But Oliver touched his hand, briefly. Gave Askr a haughty, low-lidded gaze, and in his loftiest voice said, “That’s Your Royal Iciness toyou, thank you very much. And I’d offer to let you check the health of said bits for yourself, but, no offense, I find you revolting.”

Silence.

Askr was the first to break. A wide smile split his ruddy face. The laugh started as a rumbling from somewhere down low, and then burst forth in a loud guffaw that had him bent double, wheezing. Everyone else in the hall joined in; a few lifted mugs in silent salute to Oliver, whose belly unclenched in silent relief.

Askr straightened, wiping at his streaming eyes, still choking on laughter. “Gods, boy! That’ll teach me to ask, won’t it?”

“I certainly hope so.” Oliver failed to hold his own grin in check, and earned a wink from the red-haired Lord of Redcliff.

“Are we done?” Erik asked, tone firm.

There was an immediate quieting.

“Aye,” Askr said. “Right you are. Someone bring the king some breakfast.”

Seats had been reserved for them; Leif motioned them over, and once they were settled, platters of corn cakes and sausage were placed before them, steaming tall mugs of strong tea laced with some sort of spirit.

The corn cakes were buttery, and soft, and the first bite proved that Oliver was starving.

Askr came to sit across from Erik, both hands around his mug, and said, “Now, then. What have we decided about our plan of attack tonight?”

Erik snorted around a mouthful. Took a swig of tea. “I wasn’t aware we’d decided anything.”

“Erik, we have to take the fighttothe bastards.” Askr leaned forward, eager, eyes bright with the thought of fighting. “We can’t let them hound us – hound you, our king – all the way to Dreki Hörgr, and go limping through the gates like whipped dogs with our tails between our legs.”

“If I remember correctly, we discussed all of this last night,” Erik said, mildly. “Did something change in the night?”

“Uncle,” Leif spoke up. “It’s chancy, I know, but it does make sense. Better to face them here, with a fortress at our backs, than to be set upon on the road.”

“See.” Askr pointed to him. “The lad knows what’s to be done.”

Erik looked unimpressed. “I’m not saying it isn’t a good idea.”

“Ha!”

“But it needs to be a well-thought out, organized effort, and we need to all be in agreement. I won’t send unwilling men out to face an enemy we don’t know everything about.”

“You just finish your breakfast, Your Majesty,” Askr said, “and I’ll get the boys on board.”

Oliver pushed his plate away, and hoped no one saw the tremor of his hand as he reached for his tea.”

~*~

The day was spent strategizing. Erik had hoped to take Oliver into the village, buy him a trinket or two; had even entertained a rather unromantic notion of showing him the pig farms. It was important that a consort of Aeretoll be well-versed in the agriculture and industry of each duchy of the kingdom, so that he might provide wise counsel at meetings. Askr’s wife had a snow garden, surprisingly lavish, given the keep’s fearsome appearance, and he’d thought the white and red of winter roses would make a striking backdrop for Oliver’s cream and auburn complexion.

Instead, he and his lords and warriors pored over maps and talked about gaining the element of surprise.

Every time he searched for Oliver in the sea of faces around him, be it at a long conference table, or up on the windswept parapets, looking out across the landscape, he found him beside Birger or Leif, or even sandwiched between them. He made a mental note to thank his advisor and nephew for keeping an eye out for him; he had no doubts that if Oliver were to fall again, one of them would catch him.

Finally, in early afternoon, a plan had been formed, and agreed-upon, and sealed with a shot of mistress.

Askr went to rally his guardsmen and foot soldiers, and the other lords did as well.

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