be better to sail on a bit longer.’ Jarl cast a wistful glance at the calm sea, and it was clear he was seriously considering weighing anchor.
‘Mum can’t wait to see you, but she hasn’t come to the harbour because she’s feeding Athil.’ Einar cast a meaningful glance towards the mansion towering above the harbour. At that moment, it seemed somehow gloomier than usual, at least to Olaf.
‘What do you reckon, will she get over it if I bring her some presents?’ Jarl looked around the deck absent-mindedly, searching for something.
‘It depends on what they are.’ Einar shrugged, watching the four brothers who were discussing something intently. ‘But Dad won’t get off lightly.’
‘Don’t tell me it’s that bad,’ groaned his father.
‘Old Gudrid told me Mum used to throw fireballs and the walls had to be cleaned.’
‘What have the gods punished me for?’ Olaf looked at his smiling son, hoping for a little sympathy.
‘I don’t know what the gods punished you for,’ Einar smiled even more broadly. ‘But I know all too well what Mum will punish you for,’ he added, darting out of his father’s reach.
‘Divine punishment.’ The Jarl sighed deeply and set off to supervise the remaining work on deck. ‘Once you’ve finished negotiating with your brothers, go home; let them see Athil and say hello to their mother.’ Olaf looked at the four of them as they conferred. ‘Einar, give them a little leeway, won’t you?’ he added, breathing a sigh of relief when his son nodded in agreement. The jarl headed out onto the deck, immediately beginning to shout orders and reprimand any signs of carelessness. He had no intention of rushing, for although he loved Astrid with all his heart, her anger terrified him more than even the fiercest storm.
