Chapter 4 Cenric #2
Hróarr didn’t meet Cenric’s eyes. “He did.”
Brynn stiffened at his side, but Cenric focused on his cousin.
Years ago, Ovrek had given Cenric the men to retake Ombra. They had been former thralls and castoffs, but they had been sworn into his service. Brynn might be rubbing off on him, but it occurred to Cenric that Ovrek might feel he’d given Cenric land, too.
“Is Ovrek at war?”
“Not yet.” Hróarr took another gulp from his cup.
Cenric heard the unspoken meaning—there would be war soon. His whole body tensed unconsciously, bracing the way he did for blows when he stood behind a shield. He squeezed Brynn tighter, the impulse to protect her leaping to the fore of his mind.
“Cenric!” As if their words had summoned him, Ovrek swaggered up to them.
The king moved alone through the swell of people, not attended by servants or attendants here in his own hall.
Ovrek took a place on a stool, dragging it so that he closed off the small half-circle the four of them had made.
“Hróarr! Two of my finest boys are now men grown.” Ovrek spoke in Hyldish for Brynn’s benefit.
He faced Brynn, the twin braids of his beard wagging as he did.
“How are you finding the hospitality of my hall, lady?”
Brynn offered a soft smile. “You are more than generous, lord.”
“You do me great honor by coming on such short notice,” Ovrek said to Cenric, still speaking in Hyldish. “You are favored of Aelgar, I hear?”
Cenric wasn’t sure how to answer. “He is generous enough to tolerate me.”
Ovrek laughed. “You and your foretelling and hound-speaking.” Ovrek tugged at the braids on his chin. “Can you speak to this one?” He gestured to Snapper under the table.
Friend? Snapper asked, wagging his tail at the king.
“This is Snapper.” Cenric scratched Snapper’s rump, earning a string of happy thoughts from the dyrehund. “He’s one of my dogs, yes.”
“What’s he saying right now?”
Snapper cocked his head at Cenric, sensing that they were talking about him.
“He’s asking if you can be friends.” That was what Snapper usually wanted to know.
“Would you like to be friends, son?” Ovrek lowered a hand toward the dog.
Friends! Snapper’s tail thrashed wildly as he stepped forward, licking the back of Ovrek’s knuckles.
“Good dog.” Ovrek rubbed Snapper’s ribs and earned an appreciative snort from the dyrehund. “I saw you brought another one.” Ovrek patted Snapper one last time. “A pup?”
Cenric indicated his wife. “That is Brynn’s dog.” The dyrehunds did not understand ownership in the way humans did, but Guin definitely favored Brynn.
“I see. And you hunt with them?”
“We do,” Cenric said. “They’re good trackers.”
“Can you still throw a javelin like you used to?” Ovrek quirked a brow.
“I can still kill what I aim at.” Cenric hadn’t had as much time to hunt lately, but he was still proficient.
“I should like to see that. A hunt with mind-speaking dogs,” Ovrek mused. “I shall have to visit your land.”
“That would be an honor.” Cenric felt Brynn’s eyes on him and added, “King Aelgar would be pleased to meet you, I am sure.”
Ovrek gave no sign that was anything other than what he wanted to hear. He turned his attention to Hróarr. “I’m glad we were able to get him to come.”
Hróarr inclined his head. “It has been too long since my cousin was in the fatherland.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Cenric had been in one of the southern towns last autumn, searching for the man who had killed Brynn’s son. But it was probably unwise to boast of abducting Valdari warriors.
“Indeed!” Ovrek pointed a thick finger at Cenric. “You and I must speak tomorrow.”
Brynn went rigid at his side, but she hid it on her face well.
“I shall await your summons,” Cenric said.
“Bah!” Ovrek laughed at that. “No, son. Just find me when you can. I will be with the shipbuilders all day. Work of kingship and all that.”
Cenric inclined his head. “I will.”
“Here.” Ovrek removed a large silver cuff from his wrist and handed it to Cenric. At a glance, Cenric guessed it was easily worth a good mare back in Hylden. “I am honored by the presence of a brave warrior and alderman of Hylden.”
It would have been an insult to refuse, so Cenric accepted the gift with a bow. “You honor me.” He turned to Brynn and slid the cuff over her forearm.
She seemed surprised, but didn’t protest, adjusting the silver circlet over her sleeve. Brynn might not understand the significance of it, but from the way Ovrek followed the gesture, he seemed to catch Cenric’s intent.
I’m keeping Brynn.
Ovrek turned to Hróarr. “And you!” Ovrek took a ring from his finger, studded with a large ruby. “It is always good to have you here.”
Hróarr inclined his head, accepting the gift with both hands. “You honor me.” He also handed the ring to Vana and she began to plait it into the end of a braid.
They exchanged stories—all in Hyldish—reminiscing about the years past when Cenric and Hróarr had fought for Ovrek’s kingdom. Ovrek spoke to Brynn kindly, at least from what Cenric could see.
“Your father was King Eormenulf, yes?” Ovrek stroked the tendrils of his beard as if in thought. “The Great Wolf.”
Cenric had almost forgotten that was the meaning of his dead father-in-law’s name. It seemed a rather Valdari name for a Hyldish king.
“Yes, lord,” Brynn said.
“He was a fine warrior. He gave me a fierce battle when I faced him. I wished I could have fought him again.” It was as high a compliment as Ovrek could give an enemy, or even a friend.
“Thank you, lord.” Brynn did not ask just when or where Ovrek had fought against her father’s thanes, and that was likely for the best.
“But a king’s daughter?” Ovrek’s brows rose, looking to Cenric. “Impressive, my son. You must be truly loyal to Aelgar if he wasted his niece on you.”
Cenric heard the jest, but Brynn flinched.
“I asked to marry Cenric.” Brynn fingered the silver cuff with her free hand. “I wanted…” She trailed off, looking to him.
“He’s jesting, love.” Cenric slipped his arm around her, looking to Ovrek. “In Hylden, we only take one wife, so I had to make sure the one I chose was exceptional.”
Ovrek chuckled. “That is good. I recommend only taking one wife.” He nodded across the room to where Sifma was handing out gifts much like her husband was.
“Sifma is a wonderful woman. An excellent queen. She helps keep our children in line. And she manages my household well, including the concubines.”
Brynn inhaled at that, though Cenric wasn’t sure why. It was well-known that many aldermen and wealthy men in Hylden often kept concubines. A few generations ago, multiple wives had been normal.
But all of Hylden had started to rethink that practice after the war of King Offa’s sons.
Generations ago, King Offa had collected the wives and daughters of his defeated enemies the way Ovrek collected shields.
Before his death, King Offa had sired ten sons with six different women.
After his death, the in-fighting between the different factions and mothers’ supporters had created a glut of violence.
There were old battlefields where scavengers still found bones, iron spearheads, and the occasional coin.
Stories claimed that the Cerin River had turned rusty with blood.
It was too expensive for a poor man to have multiple women. It was too dangerous for a rich man. Some men got away with it due to losing most their offspring as children and infants, but many did not. Not without losing their family’s integrity in the process. It wasn’t worth it.
Not to mention that the last time one of Cenric’s relatives had tried keeping multiple women, Morgi had sent him nightmares of having his manhood eaten by rats until he’d stopped. For whatever reason, Morgi did not approve of polygamy.
“Tolvir and Tullia are Sifma’s children, then?” Brynn asked the question politely, curiously.
“Yes.” Ovrek glanced fondly to his wife. “They get their good looks from her, as you can see.” He chuckled. “But I might get another son by winter, should the First of Fathers be so good.”
Brynn made no response to that, though her brows wrinkled slightly.
Ovrek leveled a pointed look to Cenric. “Find me tomorrow.”
Cenric inclined his head as Ovrek took his leave, moving off through the crowd. That left him with Brynn, Hróarr, and Vana once again.
Hróarr cast Cenric a meaningful look.
There would be a reckoning tomorrow, one way or another. Cenric would hear why Ovrek had sent for him. But that was tomorrow.
Tonight, Cenric wanted to drink with his friends and introduce them to his wife.
Brynn remained tense at his side, but she continued smiling, bowing, and charming in that quiet, gentle way of hers.
These people were strangers, foreigners, and she might have seen them as enemies, but she showed them the same deference she showed everyone.
They stayed at the feast until late into the night. Well after dark, they finally returned to where their people had set up their tents beside Hróarr’s camp.
Brynn and Cenric’s tent was large, as fitted their station.
It even had its own brazier filled with hot coals to stave off the evening chill.
Inside, Esa and Kalen had finished setting up their own bedrolls and the larger one intended for Brynn and Cenric.
The tent was not home, but it was far more luxurious than Cenric was used to when he traveled.
Guin whined at the sight of Brynn, pulling against her collar and scrabbling at the earth. She had been tied by a loose ribbon to one of the center braces.
Brynn knelt to greet the pup, freeing her. Now that Brynn was here, the puppy shouldn’t wander far.
Snapper greeted the puppy, licking her happily and wagging his tail. Guin yipped, her smaller tail thrashing even faster than his.