Breath of God

“They all went to what s-his-name’s house a few days ago,” the i

Valiantly resisting the impulse to pick up the goose carcass and crown the fellow with it, Count Hamnet asked, “Whose house?”

“What’s-his-name’s,” the i

“You know this guy?” Kormak asked.

“Eyvind Torfi

Both men nodded. “That’s him,” the i

“As a matter of fact, it’s not too far from here, which is nothing but luck.” Hamnet Thyssen paused. “Did somebody take my gear out of my room?”

“Somebody must have, because it’s sure not there now,” the i

“Thanks,” Hamnet said dryly. Had Ulric or Audun or Liv remembered his sackful of chattels? Or had the i

He went out into the cold again, Kormak Bersi at his heels. It wasn’t much warmer than it would have been on the Bizogot steppe, if at all. The big difference was, it got cold sooner on the steppe, stayed cold longer, and rarely warmed up in between times. The Breath of God dominated winter there. It did the same here a lot of times, but not always. Here in Nidaros, other, warmer winds warred with it.

“So where is this foof’s place?” Kormak asked, breath-fog streaming from his mouth and nose with the words.

“Here on the west side, on the higher ground closer to the palace,” Hamnet answered. “His terrace looks out on the farm country that used to be at the bottom of Hevring Lake.”

“This time of year, he’s welcome to his stinking terrace,” Kormak said with an exaggerated shiver. Hamnet Thyssen nodded. He wouldn’t have wanted to stand around freezing his nose off, either. Kormak went on, “Well, we might as well go there. Can’t very well get started if we don’t.”

“No, I guess not.” Count Hamnet would almost rather have faced the Rulers in battle than gone to Earl Eyvind’s home. The Rulers were honest enemies. Eyvind Torfi

A grim smile spread across his face. It might not be so bad. He could tell her Sigvat wouldn’t let her trouble him when he went north again. That was worth something, anyhow.

“Where exactly is this place?” Kormak Bersi asked after they’d wandered for a while.

“I’ll find it,” Hamnet said. And, after one more false start, he did.

Eyvind’s house was almost as big as the castle Count Hamnet wondered if he’d ever see again. Hamnet knew the older noble had about as many servitors, too. And books took up the space servants didn’t. Hamnet could read and write. He even enjoyed reading now and again. But Eyvind Torfi

And Eyvind’s got Gudrid, too, he thought sourly. That really means he has no time for words of his own.

Kormak Bersi couldn’t have known what was in his mind. The imperial agent set a mittened hand on the door knocker and rapped four times. Had he seized the brass knocker with fingers and palm uncovered, he would have left skin behind when he let go.

A panel above the knocker slid back behind a grate much like the ones on dungeon doors. Hamnet Thyssen and Kormak looked at each other, without any doubt sharing the same thought.

The eyes behind the grate widened. “You!” a male voice exclaimed. The panel slammed shut. To Hamnet s a

“Well?” Kormak said. “Is he going to let us in or drop boiling oil on our heads?”

Count Hamnet looked up. There was a murder hole above the entrance. Eyvind Torfi

No boiling oil, no hot water, no heated sand came from above. A few minutes later, the door did open. Instead of Eyvind Torfi

“Is that an invitation, or shall we just go away?” Hamnet asked.

Ulric made as if to close the door in his face. Hamnet Thyssen made as if to draw his sword. They both gri

“Sorry to put you to the trouble,” Hamnet said, and Ulric’s grin got wider.

“If you are going to let them in, do it, by God,” the officious servitor said from behind Ulric. “Think how much heat you’re letting out standing there gabbing with the door open.”

Hamnet and Kormak hurried inside. Ulric Skakki closed the door after them. Earl Eyvind’s servant might have been grouchy, but plenty of people in Nidaros would have voiced the same complaint. Heat, in wintertime, was always a serious business, even for the rich.

“You’ll take us to Eyvind?” Hamnet asked.

Ulric shook his head. “No, of course not. I was going to bring you to Gudrid. I’m sure you have so much to tell each other.”

“That’s not even fu

“Well, maybe not,” Ulric allowed. “You have my apology, for whatever you think it’s worth.”

“I’m sure it’s worth its weight in gold,” Hamnet said. Ulric started to nod, then broke off with a quizzical expression on his face. Kormak Bersi also looked bemused.

Earl Eyvind waited in the best-appointed study Hamnet had ever seen. It had a lot of books and a desk with a south-facing window. Few houses anywhere in the Empire had a window that looked north. The Breath of God militated against that. Several lamps and candles made the room bright even when the weather turned too harsh to leave the shutters over the window open.

Heaving himself to his feet, Eyvind Torfi

“Good to be seen, Your Splendor.” Hamnet Thyssen clasped Eyvind’s hand. “And I think I have a lot to thank you for.”

“My pleasure, Your Grace – please believe me,” Eyvind said.

Kormak coughed. Hamnet introduced him to Eyvind Torfi

“Don’t worry about it,” Eyvind Torfi

“His Majesty fed and watered us,” Hamnet answered. “Now he’s going to turn me loose against the Rulers. Amazing what getting an army pounded to pieces will do, isn’t it?”

“Possibly. Possibly. I dare hope he would have let you go even absent a defeat,” Earl Eyvind said. “I bent my efforts towards that end, I assure you.”

“I’m grateful,” Hamnet said, “and all the more so because …” His voice trailed away. He didn’t want to talk about Gudrid with her current husband. He never had wanted to do anything like that. Just thinking about it made him acutely uncomfortable.

But Eyvind Torfi