Wildest Dreams (Fantasyland #1)(118)

“My thanks, Broderick, but do not go to that trouble. We’ll be on our way,” Frey stated, jerked his head at Baldur, turned on his boot and stalked out of the tent.

For my part, I’d wrapped my arms around Frey’s shoulders and I looked over the right one and smiled regally (I hoped) at father and son, seeing the king looked fit to be tied but Broderick was smiling so big he looked like he was trying hard not to laugh.

Yeah, I definitely liked Broderick.

Then I saw them no more as we were out of the tent, I was on a horse, Frey swung up behind me, leaned into me, dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and barked, “Yah!” and we were galloping away.

After a few minutes, I felt it was safe to speak.

So I did, starting with, “Frey –”

I was wrong about it being safe to speak.

I knew this when Frey growled, “Quiet, Finnie, we’ll wait until I have you and Kell sitting down so you can explain to me which one of you had the spectacularly stupid idea to go it alone with minimal guard, only two of whom are trained, and without me, to attend a man who might want you dead.”

Ho boy.

I got quiet as ordered, thinking it was my best bet at that juncture and watched the sea, Frey’s beautiful galleon drifting on it with the sun setting behind it, coming closer.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Marriage Is Marriage

“Please tell me you’re not back early ‘cause that sorry excuse for a king set up his throne in a bloody tent of all places.”

Kell chose this perhaps not very wise opener to our conversation as he strode into Frey’s cabin looking more than his usual grumpy.

We were all around the table, Frey seated at the head by his desk, me to his left, Thad to his right and Orion, Max, Lund, Oleg, Annar, Gunner and Stephan rounded out the mix with Oleg standing behind the empty chair at the foot, beefy legs planted apart, arms crossed on his chest. Orion and Stephan were also standing because we didn’t have enough chairs and I made a mental note to visit the galleon furniture store the next time I was in Sudvic.

Skylar was squeezing between the big men setting trays of cheese, meat, crackers and pickles on the table. He’d already seen to making sure all the men had horns of ale, save Frey, who’d ordered and received a glass and a bottle of whisky from which he partook immediately and I did not think this boded as a good sign.

As was apparent since refreshments had been readied and served by an eleven year old boy, Kell took his time showing up at our party which made me, as the seconds ticked to minutes then those minutes ticked to more minutes (and not a few of them), very uncomfortable. The men didn’t seem to mind it although they kept their silence as Frey’s seething anger filled the space.

“We are not, old man, we’re back early because Broderick and Phobin were both with Baldur we discovered Phobin is not nearly as clever as he thinks. We arrived, surveyed the situation and were in and out in a day,” Frey returned.

Kell’s brows shot up as he planted his ass in a chair and immediately reached for a hunk of cheese.

“You get the branch?” he asked.

“Yes,” Frey bit off, my heart jumped and I turned to look at him.

“You did?” I breathed.

Frey’s angry eyes sliced to me, I pressed my lips together and he growled, “We did.”

I decided, considering his expression, now was not the time to jump up and give him a sloppy kiss in an effort to reward him for succeeding in a quest where others, for centuries, had failed.

“So, we’re celebratin’,” Kell stated then looked to Skylar. “Boy, get me a horn.”

“Kell, we are not celebrating,” Frey ground out, his infuriated eyes locked on his friend then he stated angrily, “By the gods, you walked my wife into the tent of a man who may be plotting her murder.”

Kell sat back and agreed, “Yup.” Then he popped the hunk of cheese into his mouth.

Ho boy.

The fury rolling off Frey increased about seven levels. I felt it, fancied its heat burned my skin, bit my lip and avoided looking at him.

“Gun, Steph, would you like to explain why you not only didn’t stop this venture but participated in it?” Frey asked, obviously giving up on Kell, and I watched Gunner look at Stephan and Stephan looked at Gunner then they both looked to Frey.

“You left Kell in charge, Frey, and you were pretty clear about that,” Gunner answered.

“Indeed. And this will be a mistake I do not make again,” Frey stated low and I watched Kell roll his eyes but, other than that, he didn’t seem too upset.

There was more silence, more fury waves from Frey and then Frey called, “Wife.”

Ho boy.

I gave Kell a raised-brow look indicating I could use his assistance. Kell’s response was to grab another hunk of cheese and pop it into his mouth. My look became a death glare when I realized Kell was throwing me right under the bus then I sucked in breath, rearranged my features and turned to my husband.

When he had my eyes, he asked in a soft voice that was not his gentle soft but an altogether different kind of soft, “Would you like to tell me, when I believe while you were trembling in my arms after seeing three men die, that I informed you specifically your uncle is a threat, why you would board a boat, sit in it while it was rowed ashore and attend a man who, it is highly likely whether he’s acted on it or not, wishes you dead?”