“Please come in,” Leila said. “Pay him no mind. He is more than a little shocked to see you, I think, but he’ll find his tongue soon enough. We were just talking about you.” Her words jolted Sigurd from his stupor.
“Leila, this is Jarl. Jarl, this is my wife, Leila.”
“It is my greatest pleasure to meet you, Jarl. Apologies that I do not get up to greet you. I’ve been ill.”
“No apologies required. Gratitude for inviting me into you home,” Jarl said, then turned to Sigurd whose stare now held a mixture of consternation and resignation. “Have you reconsidered my offer then? Will you build it?”
Sigurd didn’t answer, only glanced to the bed where Leila awaited his response as eagerly as Jarl did. Dammit. He was trapped. Why had he ever agreed? The deal had been safe. What kind of a man came back after being threatened with death? How had she known? And how could the gods play such a cruel trick on him? He could not build a ship and care for her at the same time. Hell, he doubted he could even build a ship alone; she had always helped him in the past. But he had made a deal with her. He looked back at Jarl.
“I will, but there is an additional price to be paid.”
“Name it.”
“As you can see my wife needs special care.”
“I will hire women from the village to tend to her.”
“I can tend to my own wife,” Sigurd growled. “But I will need fresh meat delivered regularly and firewood cut.”
“Done,” Jarl agreed and waited for the next.
“And I will require a sturdy horse to drag the cut trees to my work site.”
Jarl nodded. “And I am more than willing to help. I’m strong and good with an axe. I know nothing of shipbuilding, but I’m a quick learner.”
“Stop right there.” Sigurd interrupted him. “I have no need of your assistance, nor do I want it. You will not come to the building site unless invited. That is not negotiable. If you cannot agree, the deal is off. Are we clear?”
Jarl frowned. “Yes, but...”
“Not negotiable,” Sigurd repeated.
Jarl nodded. “Understood.”
“You can come here to the cabin and hang the meat in the larder, and I’ll show you where to stack the firewood. I’ll start when you bring the horse.”
“I’ll be here tomorrow with the horse and the first half of the payment. So the sum I offered before is acceptable?” Jarl asked.
Sigurd scowled and nodded curtly.
With a quick nod to Leila, Jarl hastened to the doorway before Sigurd could change his mind. The hinges squealed their final taunt at Sigurd as Jarl pulled the door closed behind him.
“You should allow him to help, at least with the felling of the trees and the hauling,” Leila said after Jarl had gone.
“Woman,” Sigurd threatened, his eyebrows raised.
“Only that part. To find the right trees will take you far from the building site, and I will be left alone while you are gone,” she reasoned.
He considered her words. “Perhaps you are right. He can help, but only for that.”
Leila watch as Jarl unchained the latest log from the horse’s harness. He wore only a leather vest, and the muscles of his upper arms bulged, well defined from the labor. He led the animal for a drink before he tied it up, then walked up the hill to check on her, as he had done after each previous load.
“Is there anything I can get you?” he asked.
“No. I’m fine. But maybe sit and rest for a moment.”
“I should get back. Sigurd will be...”
“Sigurd will be inspecting and rejecting the next forty trees before he finds one he likes. You have a moment.” She smiled.
He smiled back and nodded before stretching out on the ground next to her furs.
“Things are going well. Sigurd seems to be pleased,” she said.
“Pleased is not how I would describe him, but you know him better than I.”
“He is gruff now, but soon he will not be able to help but be excited.”
“Why did he change his mind?” Jarl asked.
“He didn’t. When he told me you had come, I wanted him to build it, but he refused, so we made a deal. Only if you returned a third time would he agree.”
Jarl smiled and shook his head. “So that is why he stares at me so strangely. You know, I was well on my way back to the village when I felt compelled to turn around. I had to try again. Thank the gods that I did.”
“Yes, thank the gods,” she murmured. Leila took in the strong cut of his jaw, his thick wavy chestnut hair, and the traces of the dimples still visible from his smile. He was quite handsome. “Are you married, Jarl?” she asked.
“No.”
“Someone special then?”
He shook his head.
“Pity.”
“It is for the best. When the ship is finished, I intend to sail her to many foreign lands, and amass a great fortune. Having a wife left at home would only be a worry.”
“Perhaps.”
“I need to get back. If Sigurd were to discover me sitting here with you...” Jarl shook his head as he stood. “Are you sure there is nothing else I can get you? Did you try the apple cobbler? The woman where I’m staying made it especially for you.”
“Yes, it was very good,” Leila replied, though she had only taken a small bite earlier to appease him. “But it is not necessary for you to bring such things. I do not eat much.”
“All the more reason to continue, until I find what you really like.” He smiled at her again before he turned to leave, his dimples giving an odd softness to his chiseled face.
“Jarl,” she called after him.
“Yes?”
“There is one thing you could bring me.”
“What is it?”
“I would have coal and parchment. I have a few ideas for your ship that I would like to share
