The Norse King’s Daughter Read Free

wearing a pretty blush on her face reminding him of how close to swiving they’d come today. Mayhap he would visit her bedchamber tonight, to seal the deal, so to speak.
    “What did you say to Sidroc?” Ingrith inquired of her husband, who tugged her down to sit on his lap. You’d expect that of a newly wedded couple, but these two had been together for at least a couple of years.
    “I was telling the man how fortunate he is to be in the midst of such intelligent Vikings, dearling,” he assured his wife.
    “Pfff! I can only guess—” Ingrith’s words were cut off as the oldest sister, Tyra, approached with her husband, Adam the Healer. Another Saxon. What was it with these Viking women? Would a good virile Viking not do?
    Tyra was a big woman. In fact, she’d trained to be a warrior at one time. Tyra stared pointedly at Drifa’s blush and at her hand laced with his, resting on his thigh, then glared at him.
    “Should I kill him, Father?” the bloodthirsty wench asked.
    “Good gods, nay! We may have a husband for Drifa yet,” said King Thorvald.
    Drifa tsked her opinion.
    Obviously the old goat was more aware of his intentions than he’d let on. In fact he winked at Sidroc, then leaned his massive body back into an armed chair, a horn of ale in hands propped on his lap, his legs extended to the fire. Although he was an old man, he appeared to be in fine physical condition, and although his hair and beard were white, they were finely groomed and adorned with precious jewels. The quality of his tunic and braies and boots attested to his high station.
    Sidroc’s best friend, Finn Vidarsson, ofttimes referred to as Finn Finehair, who had traveled here with him, was the only other man of his acquaintance who took grooming so seriously. In fact, Finn was known to trim his chest and man-hairs on occasion, a habit that he claimed women loved. Finn had never wed, claiming he’d never met a woman who matched his beauty. If Sidroc had not witnessed Finn’s prowess in battle, he would question his manliness.
    Calling himself back to the present, Sidroc demanded, “I must needs speak to you as soon as possible, King Thorvald. ’Tis urgent that I get home to Vikstead afore—”
    “Did I tell you about the time Adam drilled a hole in my head?” King Thorvald asked him.
    Only about a dozen times. “Did I tell you—?”
    “Saved my life, it did,” King Thorvald said, as if Sidroc hadn’t spoken. “Made my cock get bigger, too, I warrant.”
    “Father! Such language!” five women protested, including Vana, who was married to Rafn, the Viking hersir who commanded all the troops at Stoneheim. Vana had a passion for cleaning and was scrubbing at a trestle table behind them while the family meeting was about to commence. Though why he would be included in a family meeting posed both good and bad possibilities in Sidroc’s befuddled brain.
    “Mayhap Adam should drill a hole in your head,” the king suggested to him.
    Sidroc sputtered. “My co— manpart is plenty big enough.” Holy Thor! He hoped Finn didn’t hear about this. He would no doubt have a dozen holes drilled in his fool head.
    “Well, I hope so. I have been trying to get Drifa married for many a year. After all this time, she deserves something . . . big.”
    Drifa tsked some more.
    Everyone laughed, except him. He was crossing his eyes with frustration.
    “Since you apparently already know my intentions, King Thorvald, do you then agree to give your daughter Drifa to me?”
    The king rolled his eyes. “I do not give my daughters to any man. They have the right to choose. A promise I made to their mothers long ago.”
    “What kind of lackbrained thing was that to do?”
    Five women snarled.
    “That does not mean like-minded men cannot influence them, however,” the king added.
    “Influence her,” Sidroc sputtered. “Drifa has already accepted my suit. Have you not, sweetling?” he asked, picking her up and setting her on his lap. If Lord