Without realising, she found she was standing near Karl, sitting silently by the table. ‘Here you go,’ she said, stumbling over her tongue.
He stared straight up and at her, brown eyes twinkling, smiling wrinkles forming. He’s struggling not to lick his lips, she thought. Like a wolf. ‘Thank you. Thank you very much,’ he said, smirking at her.
‘Thank Mother,’ Helga said, more sharply than she’d intended. ‘It’s her stew.’
Instead of recoiling, however, the dark-haired man’s smile just widened. ‘It looks . . . good enough to eat.’
She could feel his eyes on her long after she’d retreated to her place in the shadows.
Einar led the newcomers’ horses to the far end of the stables. He had thought for a moment about using the stalls near Unnthor and Hildigunnur’s own mares, but the animals’ laid-back ears and snorting quickly convinced him that that was a bad idea, so in the far end they went. He started with Karl’s horse, brushing down her flanks with smooth, even strokes. He quickly realised the big black mare had a fierce temper and he’d have to be on his toes if he was to avoid being bitten.
‘Ssh, girl,’ he muttered, ‘you’ll feel better once I’m done.’ The horse tossed her head angrily and snorted, but didn’t snap at him again. ‘That’s it,’ he whispered, ‘just a couple moments more and you’ll be rid of me.’
‘What makes you think she’d want rid of you?’ Gytha asked from the doorway, making Einar jump back, just a moment
before yellowed teeth were snapping at his hand. He shifted out of the way of the mare’s stamping hooves before turning to the girl. He looked at her, but didn’t speak.
‘She’s all right,’ she said, and as she moved towards him, the mare responded to the familiar presence, snorting once and rolling her head. ‘Here. Give it to me,’ Gytha said, holding out her hand for the brush.
Einar passed it over without saying a word.
Gytha started grooming the horse, falling into an even rhythm. ‘You’ve done this well,’ she remarked.
‘Why do you say that?’ Einar said.
‘Because you still have your fingers.’ Gytha smiled at him. ‘That means she likes you.’ When Einar didn’t respond, she frowned. ‘Would you like me to look after our horses?’ she said.
‘I . . . um . . . if you want,’ Einar said.
Gytha looked at him for a moment. ‘Why won’t you talk to me?’ she said.
‘I’ll be outside if you need me,’ Einar said, slipped from the stall and out through the door. He closed it behind him.
The mare snorted at Gytha.
‘Don’t you start,’ the girl said. ‘You wouldn’t have done any better.’ She drew the brush firmly along the animal’s back. ‘But he looks fun, and I have three days.’ Stroking the mare’s head gently, she whispered in the horse’s ear, ‘We’ll see who gives up first.’
The Valhalla Saga Page 87