‘Murder is my favourite hobby, as you know.’
‘You’ve killed more men than Skarling.’
‘And I’d wear my armour to bed if I could.’
‘It’s only concern for my soft, soft skin that stops you.’
‘But severed heads are prone to squirt.’ He wriggled around to face her and pushed one lazy fingertip into her breastbone. ‘I prefer a quick thrust through the heart.’
‘Just like you’ve skewered mine. Aren’t you the swordsman.’
He squeaked as he felt her hand between his legs and slid away sniggering across the wall, arms up to fend her off. ‘All right, I admit it! I’m more lover than fighter!’
‘At last the truth. Only look what you’ve done to me.’ Putting one hand on her stomach and giving him a disapproving frown. It turned into a smile as he came close, slid his hand over hers, fingertips between hers, stroking her swollen belly.
‘It’s a boy,’ she whispered. ‘I feel it. An heir to the North. You’ll be king, and then—’
‘Shhhhh.’ And he stopped her mouth with a kiss. There was no way of knowing when someone might be listening, and anyway, ‘I’ve got an older brother, remember?’
‘A pinhead of an older brother.’
Calder winced, but didn’t deny it. He sighed as he looked down at that strange, wonderful, frightening belly of hers. ‘My father always said there’s nothing more important than family.’ Except power. ‘Besides, there’s no point arguing over what we don’t have. Black Dow’s the one who wears my father’s chain. Black Dow’s the one we need to worry on.’
‘Black Dow’s nothing but a one-eared thug.’
‘A thug with all the North under his boot and its mightiest War Chiefs taking his say-so.’
‘Mighty War Chiefs.’ She snorted in his face. ‘Dwarves with big men’s names.’
‘Brodd Tenways.’
‘That rotten old maggot? Even the thought of him makes me sick.’
‘Cairm Ironhead.’
‘I hear he has a tiny little prick. That’s why he frowns all the time.’
‘Glama Golden.’
‘Even tinier. Like a baby’s finger. And you have allies.’
‘I do?’
‘You know you do. My father likes you.’
Calder screwed up his face. ‘Your father doesn’t hate me, but I doubt he’ll be leaping up to cut the rope if they hang me.’
‘He’s an honourable man.’
‘Of course he is. Caul Reachey’s a real straight edge, everyone knows it.’ For what that was worth. ‘But you and I were promised when I was the son of the King of the Northmen and the world was all different. He was getting a prince for a son-in-law, not just a well-known coward.’
She patted his cheek, hard enough to make a gentle slapping sound. ‘A beautiful coward.’
