Page 17 of Hungry Like a Wolf
“I have seen him jealous of my childhood friend who looks at me too much or fills up my ale too often, so no, I really don’t think he would want another man bedding me.” She picked up her drink. “I will finish my food in my room. I wish to check on my owl.”
He nodded and suppressed a grin. He’d taught her something new about his people. Something Haakon hadn’t bothered to tell her. Was that because Haakon didn’t want her asking questions about the orgies he’d enjoyed so recently at Uppsalla? Well, Ravn could guarantee the queen would want answers now. She was clearly not a woman who shared her body with just anyone, so how could she understand a man who would?
Good luck, Haakon.
After finishing his eggs, he stood and threw his cloak over his shoulders. He stepped outside and squinted in the bright light glinting off the snow-covered ground. The fort walls were high and strong and in the distance, he could see the manned watchtower. A well stood to his right, and beyond that, a pigpen and more round dwellings with turf roofs.
It was busy, with villagers moving around, collecting water, tending animals. An ironsmith was at work under a shelter, his furnace flaming and his hammer toiling.
After relieving himself, Ravn made his way east of the Great House and soon saw two small dwellings side by side. Each had the door closed. A black-and-white dog sat outside one chewing lazily on a bone.
He decided to knock on the other door first. If it was Orm, he wouldn’t care about knocking, but Astrid would shred his ears if he just walked in on her.
Knock. Knock.
The door flew open with gusto. “Brother!” Orm stood there, his face freshly washed and shaven for once and a big grin balling his clean cheeks. His torso was bare and his pants hung low on his lean hips. “How are you this fine morn?”
Ravn scowled. “Why are you so cheerful?” He hoped it wasn’t because he was screwing his pretty thrall. She was a princess. She deserved better treatment.
Unless of course she liked Orm. Ravn shook his head to rid himself of the thought.
“I am cheerful because we are all together.” Orm clapped his hand on Ravn’s shoulder and pulled him inside. “Please, I bid you to enter my humble abode.”
It was compact and round with a central fire and had two fur-covered cots opposite each other. A wonky, wooden table heldfood and drink and the walls were covered in drying herbs and little animal bones tied on string like decorations.
A bowl of water was set on a stand and had a razor and soap beside it. More water heated over the fire.
Ravn peered into the shadows.
Curled up in the corner was the thrall woman. Her eyes were wide and her fingertips taut on a blanket she was gripping.
“You, get this water changed,” Orm said, clicking his fingers.
She jumped up, then steadied herself on the wall when she appeared to unbalance.
Ravn looked at the base of her muddied, emerald-green gown and remembered the chain linking her ankles.
With obvious difficulty, she shuffled to the dirty water bowl and picked it up. She moved to the door.
Ravn reached for it and held it open. “Let me.”
She glanced at him with big, scared eyes and squeezed past him to fling the water outside.
For the first time in his life, Ravn wished he weren’t so big and intimidating or his voice so gruff. It was clear she was terrified of him and waiting for him to hurt her.
Which he had no intention of doing.
She bustled back in and set about refilling the bowl with warm water from over the fire.
Orm sat on a small chair with a sigh. He held up his dirty, bare feet. “Wash these, thrall. And make sure you get between every toe.” He wriggled them. “And if you don’t, you’ll be trimming my toenails with your teeth.”
“Orm.” Ravn frowned and sat on another chair. “Why do you have to be like that? She is a princess.”
“Ja, my princess thrall.”
“What is your name?” Ravn asked her.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she knelt before Orm and lathered her hands with soap.
