Read Online Lord of Hawkfell Island by Catherine Coulter - Free Book Online Page B

Rorik, though I feared for a moment he would gore you.”
    Ottar agreed and spat over the side of the warship. Rorik merely nodded.
    â€œDid you hurt your shoulder anew?”
    â€œJust enough to remind me of all my sins,” Rorik said, and the men laughed, watching him unconsciously massage and work the shoulder.
    They rowed into the inlet. The men on the dock secured the warship and kicked its bow clear so itwouldn’t scrape against the wood. They hefted the boar onto their shoulders and started up the stone path to the palisade, singing and bragging of their prowess.
    Hafter said to Rorik as they fell in line behind the other men, “I have prayed to every god in Valhalla that Entti hasn’t prepared our meal tonight. My ribs are striking together.”
    Ottar laughed. “Aye. But the other women say that she must take her turn, that it isn’t fair she just perform one task—no matter how well she performs it.”
    â€œShe has remarkable talents,” Hafter said, grinning, his blue eyes lighting up. “Surely it is enough to occupy her time.”
    Ottar just laughed. “Aye, ’tis enough that she part her legs for me, for you, Hafter, for Gurd, or for you, Sculla—”
    â€œNay, not for me,” Sculla said. “I would crush her were I to take her.” This, Rorik thought, was probably the truth. Sculla was so tall he had to bend over to enter the longhouse. Sculla and Amma were well suited, at least in their respective sizes. Ah, but Amma was a sharp-tongued woman, taking no orders from the men, even her husband.
    â€œEntti much enjoys herself,” Rorik said. “She is a woman of calling. You, Ottar, may cease your listing of men’s names.” He sighed. “It’s not just Entti’s cooking, though it is bad enough. The other women seem to have forgotten what ingredients go with what and the most simple of preparations. I don’t understand it. I have asked why anyone would put onions in porridge, but Old Alna just shakes her head and grunts. If the women don’t regain their skills, we will all be dead or lying about with cramping bellies. They suffer just as we do, which makes it even more a mystery.”
    Hafter shook his head. “Perhaps they will take a new vote and decide to remove Entti from the cooking pots. It’s been nearly three weeks of her cooking—Old Alna swore to me Entti had cooked all the time whilst we were gone. She said the other women were trying to teach her, but it was not a skill she took to easily.”
    â€œAlna is a treacherous crone,” Sculla said, hunching down so his head didn’t strike against the low-lying oak branches just off the path. “She lies like a virgin born, the old crone. I’ve always admired her. So does Amma.”
    â€œWomen are stubborn,” Ottar said, “mayhap even dangerous, for their thinking isn’t reasonable like ours. Even my little Utta gets a notion and I can’t move her from it. Her mother was the same way. Sweet and gentle one moment, then her chin would go up, her eyes would turn black, and I knew I would be stupid to open my mouth to disagree with her. By Thor’s hammer, we’ll all starve before the women reverse their vote. Mayhap you should speak to Old Alna, Rorik.”
    â€œI did,” Rorik said. “She spoke of how I had made her responsible for the homestead and how she was doing her best. She then gave me a look that clearly said I would be a brutal monster were I to complain more.”
    Aslak stared at them, laughed until he choked, spat on a rock in his path, and marveled aloud, “You are all blind. I have been here only a day and have seen that the women are preparing wretched meals apurpose. You surely don’t believe they’re eating the same food they prepare for us, do you?”
    â€œThat is foolish,” Hafter said, swatting at a fly. “You’re wrong, Aslak. They