by Kris Tualla
“Hm.” Avery took a little sip of ale. “I do not know, but I think this is better.”
Bergdis regarded her with surprise. “Why?”
“If Fafnir has pride, he will want to keep it. Do you understand?” Avery attempted. “He will say words that do not help.”
“Oh, my!” Bergdis huffed and flashed a crooked smile. “I do believe you are right!”
“This time, Jakob says his words and Fafnir cannot argument.”
“No, he could not argue.” Bergdis looked at Avery as if figuring something out about her new daughter. “You are a wise woman, Avery.”
She felt her cheeks warming. “Hard things make wisdom, yes?”
“Yes. Yes they do. “Bergdis leaned closer. “May I ask you a personal question?”
Avery nodded. “Of course.”
“You have no children. Are you barren?”
Now her cheeks were on fire. “Perhaps. Or my husband was.”
“Do you expect to have children with Jakob?”
Avery wagged her head. “No. Not with my age. I have thirty five years.”
“I assume you and he have talked about this.”
“We have. And we agree children are not…” her words failed her and she shrugged.
“Important?” Bergdis guessed.
Avery nodded. “Yes. Important. Thank you.”
Bergdis stood, her expression unreadable. “I shall see to supper.”
As his mother walked out of the room, Jakob shot Avery a curious look. She smiled her reassurance, lifted her glass in a silent toast, and wondered what Bergdis was really thinking.
*****
Jakob could not eat another bite; not if he wanted to love his wife tonight, which he most definitely did. He apologized to her several times for the quick verbal exchanges between the occupants at the table, and translated when he could, but the cause was lost before it began.
He put up one hand, declining a third serving of reindeer, and spoke to Saxby. “How long will you bide?”
His younger brother glanced at Birgit who, as a young woman about to begin her vocation, had joined the adults for the evening meal. “I believe I might justify a week’s absence, under the circumstances. And I can certainly explain the delay to the Mother at the convent in Tønsberg.”
Birgit lowered her eyes, her lips pressed in a shy smile.
“What about you, Jakob?” Johan asked. “When are you expected to return to København?”
Jakob glanced at Avery, whose expression was carefully blank. “I am not certain.”
“No? Why not?” Johan pressed.
Jakob returned his gaze to his older brother. “I wrote to the king when I left the Order to come here, but of course there was no time for him to respond.”
“Might he write to you here?” Bergdis asked.
Jakob had not considered that. “I suppose it is possible.”
Saxby waved a hand of benediction. “Between your marriage, and the death of your father, certainly a few weeks are reasonable.”
“Yes. About that.” Jakob cleared his throat. “I did not inform the king about my marriage.”
Shocked glances ricocheted between the table’s occupants.
“There was no time.” Jakob shifted in his seat, the creak of the chair chastising him. “Not if I was to come here before Pappa passed.”
“What will the king do?” Bergdis asked softly.
“I do not know,” Jakob answered truthfully. “He had not bothered to arrange any marriages for me in Denmark, so there are no promises that have been broken.”
“But you married, again I must add, without your sovereign’s permission.” Johan looked pointedly at Avery.
“Again?” Saxby blurted.
Jakob gave his brother a hastily truncated explanation, before addressing what he thought Johan had in mind. “I asked Avery to marry me when we were in England. She declined, because she was already married. Even in Barcelona, she did not press the point. This was my choice and my decision.”
Bergdis was clearly worried. “So what will you do, Jakob, if King Christian releases you from your position?”
“Would you expect to live here?” The tone of Johan’s voice made it quite clear that this was not his brother’s preference.
“No. Not at all.” When he saw his mother’s face fall, he added, “Not that returning to the bosom of my family would not be comforting…”
Avery shot him a warning look.
“…but there is no place for me here.”
Saxby pointed a spoon at him. “If there is no place for you in København or in Arendal, would you go to back to Spain? To Avery’s home?”
Jakob shook his head. “Avery has no home in Spain. Her brother inherited the Galaviz family estate, and she has dissolved her dead husband’s remaining assets.”
“She will go back to Catherine.”
All eyes turned toward Birgit. Though she had not yet spoken, clearly the girl had been listening to the conversations. Her pale blue eyes widened as she faced Avery.
“Will you not, Auntie? Return to serve your dearest friend?”
Avery smiled at the adolescent. “You are very smart, Birgit. Yes. This is what we do.”
Johan frowned at Jakob. “If your wife is a lady-in-waiting for the queen of England, how will you spend your days?”
“I believe King Henry might take me into his service as one of his knights.” Jakob’s lips twitched. “He owes me a favor.”
Now the glances which bounced around the table were clearly skeptical.
“The esteemed King Henry the Eighth of England owes you a favor?” Johan chuckled. “Brother, I cannot imagine what you have done to create such an impossible situation.”
No, you cannot.
“I am making an assumption, of course,” Jakob began, dragging out the answer to enhance its impact. “But most men, no matter what their station in society, appreciate it greatly when someone saves their life.”
*****
Avery laughed as Jakob tumbled, naked, into their bed. “I thought Johan was going to suffer an apoplexy when you said you saved Henry’s life!”
Grinning, he stretched his frame along hers as his hand began to explore her body. “My brothers have no idea how I have spent these years away.”
Avery gasped when he found her most responsive spot. She shifted to give him room.
“And so,” he continued, “I wanted to let them know that my absence has not been wasted.”
Avery grabbed his head and pulled his mouth to hers. Little moans of pleasure escaped her.
He broke away from the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “I thank God every day that I found you, Avery.”
“As do I,” she breathed.
“I love you, more than I can say.”
She sighed and pressed his hand against her. “Then stop talking and show me.”
He did.
Chapter Twenty-Six
June 17, 1519
In all, Jakob and Avery remained in Arendal just over three weeks. Jakob would have enjoyed a bit more time, but he felt the urgency of resolving his situation grow more strongly with each passing sunrise.
Though the northern tip of Denmark was only ninety miles across the North Sea, København lay south another hundred and sixty miles or so. The journey would require five or six days, depending on the sea winds.
Jakob blew a sigh as he leaned over the edge of the ship’s railing and watched sea gulls fight over the remains of his midday meal floating on the undulating waters below.
Avery rubbed his back. “Today is the third day. You are usually better on the fourth, are you not?”
Jakob wiped his mouth with the damp linen she handed him. “Yes,” he growled. “And with this damned wind, we should land by the evening of the fifth.”
Avery chuckled. “Long soft journey, or quick and brisk. I do not think you can win either way.”
Jakob swiped his brow. “God willing, I will have no more than one v
oyage left in my lifetime.”
Avery folded her arms and leaned her back against the railing, peering up into his eyes. “London? Or Arendal?”
Jakob sniffed and spat into the water. “Two voyages, then.”
“Be honest with me husband. What do you think Christian will do with you?”
Jakob had an idea, but he would not bet on it. “I cannot presume to guess, my love.”
Avery stared out at the endless water. “I am quite pleased with the trade contracts.”
Jakob suspected his wife was changing the subject to take his mind off his belly and he appreciated the effort. Sometimes her distractions worked quite well, though the most effective ones generally took place in their bed.
“It was obvious to me that Johan was quite pleased.”
Avery returned her gaze to his. “Do you believe he will ever remarry?”
Jakob shrugged. “He could if he wanted to. But I cannot discern if he wants to.”
“Perhaps our marriage will encourage him.”
“Perhaps it will.”
Avery turned around again and leaned her elbows on the railing. The wind tugged wisps of her hair from her headpiece and she kept trying to lock them behind her ears with little success.
“At any rate, Gustavo should receive the letters in another six weeks.”
Jakob attempted to help with the flailing bits of black hair. “I am very proud of you, wife. You have the sort of mind for business that most women do not possess.”
Avery snorted. “Do not sell my gender short, husband. Many a household would be bankrupt, if it were not for the economic skills of the lady.”
“Even so.” He gave up on her hair and ran a fingertip down her cheek. “Should anyone comment on your abilities, I shall set them straight.”
Avery gave him a sly smile, one that reminded him of her skills at distraction. “And I shall reward my knight well for rectifying his lady’s reputation.”
Jakob straightened. “I believe I shall go to the cabin and lie down for a bit.”
Avery slipped her arm through his. “Let me see to your comfort, husband. It is the least I can do.”
June 19, 1519
København, Denmark
Jakob led Avery to his apartments in an outer wing of the royal residence as the church bells in the square rang seven times.
“Askel will show Emily where everything goes and help her get you settled. We have but an hour before supper is served, so I am afraid we shall have to appear as we are.”
Avery noted the sparse elegance of the residence as they walked through its myriad of halls. Obviously, this structure was not as old as either the Tower of London or Windsor Castle.
“As long as I can wash my face, and Emily can fix my hair, I shall be satisfied.” Avery looked up at Jakob when he stopped in front of a door. “This has been your home for all these years?”
“Only since I was made a knight at twenty-two. Before that, I resided at a different location.” Jakob opened the door. The furnishings were draped with linens and the air was stale. “I should open the window.”
Jakob disappeared through the door to the sleeping chamber while Avery examined the outer room of the apartment. Just as his rooms were in London, this chamber was orderly and neat with little ornamentation. In a moment, she felt the summer breeze whoosh through the space, freshening the air.
Askel entered through the outer door, laden with Jakob’s satchels. A wide-eyed Emily followed behind him and a phalanx of porters followed her. In less than five minutes, Jakob and Avery’s trunks and boxes had turned the outer room into an obstacle course.
Jakob stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the disarray. “Askel?”
The valet straightened, holding a hat box. “Yes, sir?”
“This can wait a bit. I would like you to inform the king that I have returned, so that my appearance at supper is not a surprise to him.”
“Yes, my lord.” Askel looked around and set the hat box on a table. Then with a bow of his head, he left.
Emily stepped forward. “Shall I begin to sort this out, my lady?”
“Have you been shown to your room?”
“Yes, my lady.” She gave a little smile. “I shall be quite comfortable.
“Good.” Avery looked at Jakob. “It is my understanding that I shall only have time to wash my face and have my hair repaired before we must go to supper.”
Jakob nodded, frowning and feeling his beard. “And I believe I shall have a shave.”
*****
Once the couple was coifed and clean-jawed, Jakob entered the dining room with Avery gripping his arm. Heads swerved and eyes widened. Jakob had never attended supper with any woman on his arm before, much less a dark-eyed Spanish beauty, and murmured speculation bubbled up around them.
“Jakob! You have returned at last!” Hans Andersen’s eyes were fixed on Avery. “And what delightful treat have you brought home?”
Jakob turned sideways to face his friend. “Sir Andersen, may I present my wife, Lady Avery Galaviz Hansen.”
The other knight’s jaw dropped. “Wife you say?”
“Indeed.” Jakob grinned and addressed Avery in slow Norsk. “Hans and I became knights at the same time.”
Avery smiled softly. “I am pleased to meet you.”
Hans’ brow furrowed. “Did the king send his permission while you were in Spain?”
Jakob clapped his friend on the shoulder. “In truth, I did not ask him.”
Hans recoiled, his expression carrying a warning. “In that case, it has been a pleasure to serve beside you.”
“Sir Hansen!”
Jakob turned slowly and gave King Christian his best courtly bow. “Your Grace.”
When he straightened, the king asked, “And who is this lovely creature at your side?”
“Your Highness, may I introduce Lady Averia Galaviz de Hansen, Countess of Catalonya?”
“I am honored, your Grace.” Avery curtsied deeply.
“Hansen?” Christian barked. “Do not tell me you discovered some long-lost relative in Spain?”
Jakob relaxed his shoulders and clasped his hands in front of him. “No, my lord.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “Have you presumed to marry without my permission?”
“I am afraid that the desperate situation in which the lady found herself, did not allow the months required for that correspondence to take place. I was forced to act quickly to save her honor.” Jakob realized too late what sort of situation that sounded like.
Christian’s gaze swept over a furiously blushing Avery—even with her limited Norsk, she caught the unintended double meaning—before he arched one brow. “Are you to be a father?”
Jakob coughed. “No, your Grace. The situation was financial. The result of an unsavory first husband, now deceased.”
Christian’s lips twisted. “The lady made an unsavory marriage? That sounds rather foolish.”
This conversation was not improving. Avery looked to be suppressing an angry retort, obliging Jakob to speak quickly. “Lady Avery was only twenty when her father agreed to what appeared to be a financially advantageous marriage.”
“And?”
Jakob now had the opportunity to steer the subject in a more complementary direction. “And once the true nature of the man was known, the lady escaped to England, where she has served for nine years as chief lady-in-waiting for her lifelong friend, Queen Catherine of Aragon—the wife of King Henry the Eighth.”
Christian’s demeanor shifted. “And that is where you became acquainted.”
Jakob dipped his chin. “Yes, your Grace.”
The king pressed his lips together and his eyes narrowed. “I do not wish to keep everyone waiting any longer for their supper, but this discussion is most assuredly not finished.”
Jakob waited, heart thumping steadily against his ribs like a death knell.
“I shall expect you in my chamber one half hour after the meal is concluded, Sir Ha
nsen.” Christian turned and spoke loudly enough for anyone within twenty feet to hear. “There are consequences for such rash behavior by a formerly trusted knight.”
Jakob bent in a grim bow. “I understand, your Grace.”
When he straightened, he looped Avery’s arm through his and walked stiffly into the dining hall with only the hint of a limp.
*****
Avery tried to focus on Emily’s labors as the maid helped her prepare for bed. “Go on to bed, Emily, and do not worry about unpacking anything else until tomorrow. It may be that we will not be staying long.”
Emily curtsied. “Yes, my lady.”
Askel still waited in the outer room, but Avery did not feel she should dismiss him; he was Jakob’s loyal valet and would wait for his master even if she tried to send him to bed.
Avery sat on the edge of the mattress, wondering how much more time she would need to waste before her husband returned. One little table in the bedchamber held a small stack of books; Avery walked over to see if any of them might be in a language she understood.
Finding a Latin book on philosophy, she carried it back to the bed, turned up the lamp, and tried to concentrate on the words on the page rather than the dread in her heart. She was not very successful.
At the sound of Jakob’s deep voice and lilting Norsk on the other side of the door, Avery tossed the book aside. She gathered her knees under her and stared at the bedchamber door, willing it to open quickly.
When it did, she faced a somber husband.
“Are you released from service?” she blurted, disinclined to wait for that answer,
“Not entirely. Not yet.” Jakob began to unfasten his tunic. “Will you help me? I sent Askel to bed so we could talk privately before I explain it to him.”
Avery clambered from the bed and helped her husband undress, laying the garments over the chairs in the room. Askel would sort them in the morning.
