She left him there with his ale and his composure and walked back toward the stairs and told herself very firmly that the warmth in her chest was the fire.
But the lairds were coming that afternoon and she had a great deal to do, so she went to find out what the day was going to ask of her.
CHAPTER NINE
"They're early."
Torvald said it from the doorway of the study with the tone of a man who wasn't surprised and wasn't complaining but felt the observation deserved to be made.
Ivar didn't look up from the coastal map. "How many?"
"Two birlinns so far. Third one coming around the point." A pause. "Erik's colors on the first one."
"Of course, he's first." Ivar rolled the map. "Get the yard ready. And tell the kitchen."
"Kitchen already kens." Torvald leaned against the doorframe. "Marta's been ready since this mornin'. She made enough food fer a siege."
"Good." Ivar stood. "Where's Matilda?"
"Her chamber, last I kent. Sigrid's with her."
"Tell Sigrid tae bring her tae the Great Hall. Nae the yard." He picked up his cloak. "I dinnae want her standin' on the dock bein' looked at like a prize tae be inspected before she's had a moment tae breathe."
Torvald looked at him with the expression he wore when he had something to say and was deciding whether to say it. He decided against it.
"Aye," he said, and went.
Erik came through the gate first, which was how Erik came through most things, ahead of everyone else and entirely aware of it.
He was broader than Ivar remembered, which shouldn't have been possible but apparently was. Claricia was beside him with a child on her hip and the expression of a woman who had crossed open water with a toddler and had opinions about that.
"Raven." Erik's voice carried across the yard. He was already grinning, which meant he was in a good mood, which meant the crossing had been smooth and nobody had annoyed him. "Ye look terrible."
"Ye look old," Ivar said.
"I look distinguished." Erik crossed the yard and gripped his arm and Ivar gripped back and they stood like that for a moment, the greeting of men who had known each other long enough to skip everything that wasn't necessary. "Good tae see ye."
"And ye." He looked at Claricia. "How was the crossin’?"
"Long," Claricia said, with feeling. "Thorsten decided the boat was a very interestin' thing tae try tae climb off of approximately forty times."
She shifted the child on her hip.
Thorsten was a little over a year old and had Erik's coloring and Claricia's eyes and the focused determination of a child who had recently discovered that the world was full of things he hadn't touched yet. He was currently examining Ivar with the serious assessment of someone conducting important research.
"He's got his faither's face," Ivar said.
"Aye," Claricia said. "I'm tryin' nae tae hold it against him."
Erik put a hand at the back of her neck and she leaned into it without looking at him, the casual intimacy of people who had stopped noticing they were doing it, and Ivar looked away.
The second birlinn was already unloading at the dock.
Magnus came through the gate with Ada beside him. Their daughter Astrid against his chest in a wrap of woven wool, small and dark-haired and apparently asleep despite the noise of the yard.
Ada had the alert eyes of a woman who hadn't slept more than four consecutive hours in five months and was managing it with a composure that Ivar found genuinely impressive.
"Ivar." Magnus gripped his arm. He was a man of few words at the best of times, and the arrival of a child appeared to have reduced that number further, but what was left was warm. "Good tae be here."