Lars’ hands went up, but his generous smile stayed steady. “Impressive. I didn’t even see you reach for your weapon. You are lucky to have a warrior woman for a wife, Wolf. She will serve you well.”
“What’s a Northman doing here?” Raven asked, returning her knife to its sheath without taking her eyes off the large man.
“I’ve brought important word from Wolf’s father.”
While Wolf would have preferred Lars hadn’t shared that information, he understood why Lars hadn’t hesitated to respond to his wife. Any good warrior responded without question to an authoritative command, and Raven certainly had spoken as one accustomed to such status.
“Let’s retire to the longhouse and while you fill that large belly of yours with food and drink you can tell me of my father’s message,” Wolf said.
Raven followed right along with them, having no intention of being left behind. Besides, she was curious as to the message.
“Detta!” Lars yelled, seeing the elderly woman and ran to swing her up into a hug.
Raven remained silent as she walked alongside her husband. The quick way his eyes had traveled over her and the disapproval she’d seen there of her appearance all but confirmed it wouldn’t be long before he said something to her. At the moment though, she was more curious as to why Lars was greeting Detta like a long lost friend. With all that had been going on, she hadn’t paid much heed to Detta, the woman doing as Oria had told her—keeping to herself. But seeing the way Lars greeted her poked Raven’s curiosity.
“What were you doing in the woods?” Wolf demanded.
She saw no reason not to tell him the truth. “Iver was teaching me how to track and there’s no need to remind me about my arm. I’m cautious with it and it heals nicely.”
Something he already knew since he had insisted at taking a look himself when Wren was last here. But he hadn’t been the only one, her da had insisted as well. But her da had done so out of love and worry for his daughter. What had been Wolf’s reason?
Before he could chastise her like her brothers once did, she said, “Lars seems to know Detta.”
“He’s been here before.”
A hasty response, at times, could be suspect. That’s what the old man used to tell her. She grinned and called out, “How long has it been since you’ve seen Detta, Lars?”
The way the giant of a man froze told her what she thought and she turned to her husband. “You lied to me.”
“Detta is from my tribe.”
The news brought Raven to an abrupt halt. “Are you telling me you planted an old woman here to spy for you?”
“And what of Clive?” he shot back. “His visits here as a merchant weren’t meant to acquire information for you?”
“You compare—equal it to—Clive visiting as a traveling merchant to sending an old woman to live away from her family for years?” she asked.
“All in my tribe do what is necessary and without question,” Wolf said. “A lesson, as my wife, you should learn.”
Raven didn’t follow right away when he walked off. Something poked at her. Why send an old woman here to spy? And why leave her here after he’d laid claim to Learmonth? Didn’t she have family to return to?
Her husband and Lars had disappeared inside the longhouse, but Detta had turned and was walking off toward the keep.
“Detta,” Raven called out and the old woman stopped and turned to face her.
“Lady Raven,” Detta said with a gentle smile.
Raven could see past the years that had aged her to the beauty she must have once been, years that hadn’t robbed her lovely, soft green eyes of their luster. “We’ve yet to actually meet.”
“My duties are at the keep, yours are at the longhouse, but if you should need me for anything—”
“I do need you,” Raven interrupted and caught the slight rise of the woman’s brow.
“How may I help?” Detta asked.
“I’ll let you know. You can go now,” Raven said purposely dismissing her as one would a servant and once again caught the slight rise of her brow. There definitely was more to the woman than she was being told.
Raven hurried into the common room to take a seat next to her husband. Lars was already busy eating from the wealth of food on the table.
“You’re cold?” Wolf asked, seeing she kept her wool cloak on and hugged it around her.
“Snow is in the air,” Lars said between bites. “I can smell it.”
“He’s right,” Raven said with a shiver. “The animals are restless in the woods. They sense something is coming.”
“Ida,” Wolf called out to the servant lass who lingered nearby. “Bring my wife a hot brew.”
As the lass hurried off, Wolf got up and went to the table next to theirs, retrieved his fur cloak and brought it back to drape over his wife’s shoulders and tuck around her.