[Thinlómien]

"So what is it?"

The old cook was sharp, as always. Modtryth gave Frodides a half-hearted smile. She didn't really want to explain her friend that she had taken intuitive dislike on the new Eorl's wife. There was just something about her which made Modtryth distrustful, if not even frightened. You have worked under much worse and much less likeable mistresses, she reminded herself.

"Just feeling a little sad. Times are changing, and I suppose we have to change with them. Still, Eorling Meadhall and Scarburg Meadhall under Lord Eodwine and Lady Saeryn were better places than I could ever have imagined." Modtryth paused. She had intended to give Frodides an inconsequential lie or a half-truth, but what she said was definitely a truth although not the truth she should have told the old cook.

Frodides nodded gravely. She didn't reply immediately, which was uncharacteristic. "Saeryn has managed, and so will we," she finally said brusquely, and continued arranging the dishes. Then she smiled fondly. "She is a brave girl, I say. So tell me, how is she doing? I think you gather more than us others."

Modtryth smiled at Frodides. "Saeryn's been well, a little ill in the mornings but that's normal. Aedhel has been making her raspberry tea which helps. Everything is as it should."

"Good. So Eodwine's son will be a healthy big boy. Or do you think it'll be a girl?"

"Quite honestly, Frodides, I cannot say. When I was expecting Cnebba, I was certain it was a girl, but I proved to be wrong. So, don't you think, if I cannot predict the sex of my own child I should keep away from predicting that of others' babies?"

"Might be," Frodides laughed. "But that's a thing about you, lass, you never put your nose in other people's affairs, do you?"

"Not really," Modtryth admitted. "Unlike you." She gave Frodides a grin.

"That is, I dare say, a bit unfair my lass!" the older woman protested. "Who else would take care that you girls are alright? And besides, I am a cook and cooks are supposed to know the house gossip."

"Sure. You have nothing to keep your head busy while cooking so you have to gossip. I see."

"Now that is quite enough from you, Modtryth! Now you shall take these buckets and fetch me some water from the well."

"Yes, sir," Modtryth replied cheerfully, took the buckets and slipped away from the kitchen.

Maybe the day was going to be alright after all.

Or, so she thought until she saw Ginna emerge from the smithy. The girl looked troubled. Modtryth walked to her.

"Ginna," she said. "Is everything alright?"

Frodides would be proud of me, she thought wryly.