A Burning Sea Theodore Brun (ebook reader that looks like a book .txt) 📖

why. She felt weak, to come begging in a place like this, humiliated. It wasn’t Einar’s fault that her choices were so few.

‘Sure, the place needs a clean. But don’t be put off by that,’ said Einar. ‘The Livi are a fierce folk if the tales of the Estland Wars are to be believed.’

‘They seem more interested in ale and bed-slaves.’

‘Well, what man wouldn’t be in winter?’

‘Winter is ending.’

‘All the more reason then.’ Einar sank another ale.

Meanwhile, Gerutha was rubbing her hands anxiously over a brazier in the corner. ‘We should have sought out more men for your escort. There must have been others loyal to you.’

‘We had no time.’

‘Maybe. But now we’re completely at the mercy of these people.’

‘Not if he is here.’ It was the first she had mentioned Erlan for two days. But he had always been there, a shadow in her mind. ‘If the Aurvandil serves Osvald, then we can at least expect some favour, even if our plea is not satisfied.’

‘You know the chance of this is small, Lady.’

‘It was your message that brought us here after all,’ she snapped, irritated by her servant’s pessimism. ‘Look, if he is not then we have no choice. We must trust in ourselves. And in the old alliance.’

‘What alliance is that?’ drawled a voice behind her. She spun around in surprise, spilling ale from her cup. ‘Forgive me, Lady. I didn’t mean to startle you.’ Before her stood a thin man with lank yellow hair spilling loose about narrow shoulders. His robe was the colour of dark wine, cinched at his hips with a loose cord so that his pale chest and a thin white leg were visible. He held a drinking horn rimmed with silver plate. He took a swig, his gaze never leaving Lilla.

‘My Lord Osvald?’

‘I am Osvald. But am I your lord. . .? Or are you mine?’ He gave a mirthless snort. He was drunk. ‘They tell me you are Sviggar’s daughter, Queen of the Twin Kingdoms.’

‘I am.’ Which put her above him. Estland was part of the Twin Kingdoms. When her grandfather Ívar had ruled, it had been one of the most loyal provinces in his realm. ‘Nevertheless I come here asserting no sovereignty over you. Our two realms are bound by their shared past.’

‘I wonder, would your husband say the same? The King-Over-Them-All.’ Osvald smiled, not a pleasant sight. ‘Though I hear he has not been saying much of late.’

‘He was sick,’ admitted Lilla. ‘Alas, the sickness took him.’

‘I am sorry to hear that.’ Though he hardly looked it. ‘And you. Left all alone.’ He went to the table and refilled his horn. ‘Sit, Lady, sit – and you others. Your servants?’

She nodded.

‘Quite the retinue.’

Einar and Gerutha found a seat on the benches against the wall.

‘And you?’ enquired Osvald, sliding himself into his high-back seat.

‘I prefer to stand.’ Her body cried out for rest, but she needed to retain every scrap of her dignity just then.

Osvald was eyeing her with curiosity, pulling at his wispish beard with long, pale fingers. ‘Assuming you are who you say you are, your presence here already tells me many things. If your husband is so lately dead, then your place is in Uppsala – at least until the Sveär choose themselves a new king. And even then, you would be treated with honour. Yet here you are, soaked through on a black night, with only a pair of misfit servants—’

‘Doubtless much is plain enough,’ she broke in. ‘We come seeking help.’

‘We?’

‘I do.’

‘Then I’m flattered. Of all the lordlings in your wide realm, you come to me.’

‘Our fathers fought together long before you or I were born. The bond between our peoples is strong as iron.’

‘Is it? My father – whom you remember so fondly – was slaughtered at Bravik. He stood on the left flank of your brother’s army.’

Lilla’s fingers tightened round her cup.

‘And where did you stand that day. . . my lady?’

Lilla didn’t answer.

‘You were there though. No? The Eagle Queen, some call you.’ He fluttered his hand in an airy gesture. ‘As you said – an alliance strong as iron.’

‘It is because I am my father’s daughter that I stood against my brother. Sigurd murdered him. He stole a throne that was not his.’

‘Yes, I’ve heard those rumours. But often there is so little truth in rumour, I find. Don’t you agree?’

‘I know the truth. I am my father’s true heir, and therefore a true friend of this kingdom. I am sorry my brother deceived your folk. But that deception is over. And now. . . a new threat has arisen.’

‘Ha! So you come to your point at last. It did not take you long to lose your kingdom that was won at such bloody cost. Who has taken it from you?’

It was bitter indeed to find herself in this position, to stand before the seat of this languid wretch like some beggar pleading for justice. ‘Prince Thrand Haraldarson,’ she said.

‘The last son of the Wartooth.’ Osvald nodded. ‘Of course. The Danes are stronger than the Sveär.’

‘For now. But they will not be ruled by a man they did not choose.’

‘Oh? As they chose King Ringast.’

‘Ringast was a good king.’

‘Aye, for all of a week. Or was it a month?’ He chuckled. ‘I believe I’ve had hangovers that lasted longer.’

Lilla was tiring of Osvald’s impertinence. But after enduring Thrand’s assault, the indignity of her flight and the miserable sea crossing, she was determined to drive on to her purpose. ‘As rightful Queen of the Twin Kingdoms and the last true heir of Sviggar’s line, I call on our old alliance. Osvald, King of the Livi, Lord of Estland, will you stand with me and help me retake my father’s kingdom?’ Her eyes were bright with passion. ‘Retake my kingdom.’

Osvald considered her for some time, the tips of two fingers tracing the length of his long nose. ‘I’m hungry,’ he declared suddenly. ‘Are you hungry, my lady?’ He clapped his hands. ‘Come – your