“Who do you think it might be?” she asked Erik, clearly not realizing how ridiculous expecting an answer from him would be.
He still managed to give one. “Maybe just a trader.”
There was a man walking next to a large black horse pulling a cart. Erik couldn’t see what the cart held, but the man looked young, maybe just a bit older than he was.
“Hail, friends!” A hand of greeting went up as the man came closer to them. “Strange to see travelers this far west.” He brought his horse to a stop and looked them over. “I am Kjalarr.”
“Erik.” He motioned to Tove who said nothing. “And Tove.”
“Good names. I like them both.” He turned, reaching over into his cart and Erik could see Tove’s arm shift backward toward where she’d stowed the knife she’d taken off of Vali. His arms came back over holding a small basket of fruit, raspberries and cherries. Tove dropped her arm to her side before he looked back toward them. He held it out.
“Oh, we don’t… we don’t have much coin.” Erik held a hand out refusing the fruit.
“Nonsense. A gift. Travelers must eat.” Kjalarr pushed the basket into Erik’s hand. “Try them!” He smiled a genuine smile.
Erik pulled one from the basket. The berries were plump, fresh, and better than any he’d ever eaten. Tove obviously agreed after her grudging bite of the first one. She plucked four more from the basket and ate them greedily.
“If I might ask, where are you headed? I’ve often found myself jealous of the folk who live out this far. They live such simple lives. Happy, free of worry and pain.”
“We are headed for Lofgrund,” Erik said, not wanting to sound as stern or serious as he had.
Kjalarr frowned. “A complicated place full of danger and pain. But you seem sure.”
“I am.”
Kjalarr gave a sad smile. “Very well, so long as you’re sure of your decision. I would only offer this advice: Once simplicity is left behind, even those who yearn to return most often find they cannot.”
Erik narrowed his eyes at the man. The trader had looked only at him since stopping. Somehow, even through the calm, kind tone of the words, Erik sensed a challenge. His body told him to fight. It screamed a demand to swing from every muscle.
“I don’t want simplicity.” Erik tried as best he could to keep his rising anger from showing on his face.
Kjalarr only kept his calm smile and nodded. “Then, I have work I must be getting back to.”
He walked past them, watching Erik until he was no longer within arm’s reach. The horse and its minder continued on down the road. Despite his unease at turning his back on the trader, Erik started to walk again.
Tove tossed the berries away when they had walked on a bit. “There was something odd about him, don’t you think?”
“Odd is a way to put it.” Erik looked over his shoulder, the cart was still drifting into the distance. “The sooner we’re in Lofgrund, the better.”
chapter|10
They weren’t far from the next town when Tove turned to Erik and stared at him for a while. She finally spoke up when he started staring back at her.
“How do you cook things?”
“You cook things.”
“Not here. Where you come from.”
“Ovens. Microwaves. Stove tops.”
“I know ovens. They’re expensive. We had two of them in the bakery in Kvernes.”
“No, not… they still use those kinds of ovens for some things, but most people don’t own those. They have smaller ones.”
“Small… everyone has an oven?”
“I’m pretty sure everyone has an oven.”
“Wow. And what’s a microwave?”
“Yeah, I didn’t really think of how to explain this before I said it.” Erik pulled in a deep breath. “We have this thing called electricity.”
She gave him a blank stare.
“Right, most people basically consider it a magic box that makes things hotter without fire.”
Tove screwed up her face. “You’re mocking me.”
He laughed. “I’m not! They’re real. How am I supposed to explain that when you don’t have toilet paper?”
“I’ve heard of paper. For writing important stories on. Did you write in the toilet?”
“Oh god, see? There’s so much… You’d wipe with it.”
She looked shocked. “With paper?!”
Erik threw his hands up. “It’s not weird! It’s a little weird… but it’s way better than sheep’s wool. Not that it matters, there’s really no way for me to show you.”
The sun had just passed the midpoint of the sky when they came across a small town, just smaller than Kvernes. The houses here were a wider mix of styles with longhouses toward the outer edge and less stylistic wooden houses nearer to the center of town where a small stream ran through under a simple bridge.
“Do we need supplies?”
Tove nodded, too busy looking suspiciously at the people around to answer aloud. A rotund woman beckoned them over.
“Come now, you two! Travelers are welcome ‘ere. And I expect yer ‘ungry.”
There were a few benches outside of the door the woman was shouting from. Erik walked over with Tove sticking close behind him.
“Simple stew, but it’s cheap.” She smiled wide. “Farthing each.”
Erik pulled a whole silver coin out of his pocket, having nothing but the five he’d been paid at the farm.
“It’s all I’ve got, whole coins.”
“No coin cutter?” She gave him a queer look.
Erik shook his head. “No, I don’t…”
She nodded. “Not a problem. Set yourselves down and rest a spell.”
With that, the woman went into the house and Erik offloaded the pack. He sat first and Tove sat beside him.
“They seem normal enough,” Tove said. “I’ll call myself happy that they’re not so interested in us as I’d expected.”
Erik looked around, seeing the people of the town mostly ignoring them in stark contrast to Kvernes. “Hopefully it stays that way.”
The woman returned with two bowls of stew and soft white bread. She handed the bowls to Erik and turned to pop back into the house. She returned much more quickly this time, holding an iron tool that was hinged at the end.
“Let me split them coins for you. It’ll make things easier if you mean to buy supplies anyway.”
Erik pulled a coin and handed them to the woman with a slight hesitance, but she placed the coin face down into a circular plate on the press and pressed the thin, dull ridge protruding from the other side down onto it. The coin made a small clinking noise as the tool cut in to a cross-line drawn into the back.
“You want ‘em in farthings?”
He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant but nodded and she turned the circular bit a quarter turn, pressing again, splitting the coin into four. She dumped them into her hand, showing him two before pocketing those and handing the other two back.
“You need any more done? Might do to split ‘em now. Some folk ain’t so honest and charge. Silly, I says. A smile sells more stew than tricks.”
Erik pulled two more coins and had her do the same to them, figuring that the price must have been fairly common. Tove hadn’t complained about the prices or the practice, but she’d never been this far out before and mostly spent the time between bites of stew staring at people rather than paying attention to the business with the coins.
The woman finished the work and smiled wide. “You need anythin’ else, just give a knock. And just leave the bowls whenever it is you’re done. I’ll collect ‘em when I can.”
She was back inside after that. The stew was good, with potatoes and carrots and peas. They were vegetables he hadn’t seen in Kvernes and the bread was like nothing they’d been making at t
he bakery there.
Tove was more than halfway done with the sizable portion when she first said anything.
“These tiny green bits are delicious. Turnips taste different, though.”
“They’re potatoes,” Erik laughed. “And the green bits are peas. I think we may have been lied to about the world outside of Kvernes.”
Tove smiled. “I always knew they were lying. And now I have proof of it.” She laughed. “And here I am eating potatoes and, and…”
“Peas.”
“Peas!” She held her spoon up. “I can’t imagine anything better and we’ve only just started.” She nudged him. “It’s only just started, Erik.”
They finished the bowls of stew and left them on the bench. Erik asked the men standing around across from them where they could buy supplies. Tove clarified that they needed dried meat, some bread, and anything else that might be helpful.
Everyone selling things was pleasant without any of the odd feeling that Erik had gotten off of the trader before. Part of him wanted to ask if the man was from this town but it might add undue awkwardness to their short time there and that wasn’t worth doing. They’d bought two small loaves of fresh bread, one of which Tove couldn’t resist pulling a piece off of. The baker noticed and laughed.
“You like it that much, I’ll have to throw in another.”
He went in and grabbed another, wrapping it up in a piece of cloth like the others, handing it to Tove. She was lost for words.
“I don’t think she’s ever had anything like it,” Erik said, chuckling. “It’s very good, I must say.”
“You flatter a man, I’ll tell you.” The baker leaned out the door looking just down the street they were on. “If she finds that a treat, I reckon she’s not from ‘round here. There’s a man just down that way, sells plums. Four doors from here.”
“Plums?” Tove was quick to ask.
“Thought she might say that, but you’ve had ‘em, eh boy?”
Erik nodded shaking his pockets. He had five farthings and his two coins left. “I’ll go see him. Thanks.”
The baker nodded and headed back into his house. They walked down the way he’d shown them and knocked. An old man came to the door.
“What is it you need, stranger?”
“The baker said you sell plums.”
“That I do. Four to a farthing.”
Erik pulled a farthing out and put it in the man’s hand. “There you go.”
He disappeared back into the house and Erik looked down at Tove who had returned from pressing the third loaf of bread into the pack.
“Don’t guess you packed any coin of your own?”
Tove crossed her arms as the man came back with the plums. “Of course I did. Anyway, we’re a warband. It’s all the same coin. We share.”
The old man chuckled at the word warband and Tove took exception.
“What’s funny about that? We are! We’re going to—”
Erik put his hand over her face and pushed her back to stop her walking toward the old man. She turned away in a huff. The old man handed over the plums and Erik gave them to Tove to hold, which she did grudgingly.
“How far to Lofgrund from here?”
The old man poked his head out of the doorway and looked up at the sky.
“Day like this? Should make it there just about sundown if you stick to the road.”
Erik thanked him and they returned to the main road, headed north-east. After filling their jars with water, Tove handed him a plum and then tried one herself.
She frowned. “Too sweet. I prefer the bread. And we are a warband, you shouldn’t have interrupted me. He ought to know.”
“We’re not likely to be taken seriously with only two.”
She waved the plum at him dismissively. “It’s early days yet. We’ll make Odin take notice by the time we make it to Valhalla. He might even let me in at that rate.”
She finished the plum in spite of the complaint and Erik did the same, agreeing with her that it was too sweet. They kept the other two in spite of not being elated with them. The walk wasn’t any different than any other part, the roads quiet and the woods empty and easily watched. He thought it would actually be sort of hard to be a raider so long as people were armed in general. They had two knives between them, one packed with the rest of their supplies and the other with Tove. They definitely wouldn’t be effective if caught out unless Erik was given time to unpack. But he wasn’t any sort of expert with a knife except for generally knowing where to put the sharp parts.
The road wouldn’t be the place for him to find out. With the sun setting, Lofgrund came into view at the center of a field that went on for miles in each direction. Even with the city in sight, they had a half hour of walking left before they finally arrived at the gates. It was dark by then and Erik was starting to feel the deep regret of a man who decided to carry a heavy pack all day.
There were a trio of guards standing at the far edge of a drawbridge. They kept close watch on Erik and Tove as they crossed the bridge toward the gate. The construction was definitely not something Erik expected, and Tove had been in stunned silence ever since she’d seen the guards.
One of the guards took a few steps forward as they came across the bridge, holding up a hand.
“What is your purpose in Lofgrund?”
Erik stiffened immediately, hearing the official tone. “Uh, eating. Eating, sleeping, and then continuing on.”
“How long will you be in the city?”
“A few nights at most? Maybe only one.”
The guard nodded. “Submit your pack for searching.” He turned around and walked back as the other two moved to the center of the open gate. Erik walked to them and removed the pack, Tove keeping her distance behind him. The area was lit by torches at the top of and beside the gate arch. It didn’t seem to slow the guards who rifled through the bag as though they could see things well enough. The third guard watched over Erik and Tove as the other two did their work. Erik turned to him.
“Are there cheap rooms in the city?”
The guard leaned his head toward the northern part of the city. “Might be some up that way. Can’t say as they’re nice, but they’re rooms and they’re cheap. Not too pleasant when it gets late enough, but so long as you’re in after dinner, I never heard no one complain.”
They finished with the pack, making a catalogue of the things inside of it and sent them on their way. Erik thanked the guard and they went into the city. They hadn’t gone fifty feet past the gate into a large, ornate square lit by torches on a stone statue of Odin.
She was open-mouthed and breathless. “It’s amazing. The buildings they… they’re six storeys. And so much stone. I’ve never seen so much!” She turned to Erik. “Let’s not leave.” A horse drawn carriage rode through the far end of the square and Tove ran toward it, pointing. “What was that?! It wasn’t a cart.”
“It was a carriage. Rich people ride in them. I think.”
“I’ve decided that I’d like to become rich, Erik.”
He laughed. “I doubt you’re alone in that.” He started toward the north, waving for her to follow. “You’ll have plenty of time to be amazed after we’ve eaten and bought a room. Days, even.”
She followed him, eyes still locked on the buildings around them. Signs and lit shops, painted colors they simply didn’t have anywhere he’d seen in Kvernes. As they approached the north side of the square a young boy came running up with what looked like a table leg with a tar covered piece of sheet over it.
“Need of a linkboy, sir?”
“Linkboy?” He looked at Tove who shook her head and shrugged.
“Ah! New to the idea. No need to feel bashful, sir. For a farthing, I’ll show you to where you need to go. Dangerous to be out at night, sir, when you don’t know the city. Especially if you’re head
ed north.”
“Sounds fair enough. We need an inn, a room. Somewhere near food. You know a place?”
The boy nodded enthusiastically. “That I do, sir.”
Erik produced a farthing and handed it to the boy who bit it and then put it into his pocket.
“This way, sir.”
He swung by one of the lit torches in the square and lit his own, holding it out in front of him.
Tove was busy sniffing at the air, and making plaintive moans. “What are these smells, Erik? When can we eat? Maybe we should just eat now. No sense walking all the way across the city.”
The linkboy spoke up. “Don’t recommend it, miss. Food’s not so different, I’ve heard. Fancier plates to look at it sitting on.”
“Smaller portions too, I’d bet,” Erik complained. “Porcelain and nice chairs sound about right?”
The boy laughed. “Sir understands. Are you from the southern kingdom to know such a thing?”
“No. But I’ve seen the same game played before.”
There was a jewelry store with glass windows, something that most of the other shops around the square didn’t have. Tove grabbed Erik by his arm, dragging him over.
“What are these?!”
The linkboy followed them, holding the torch out toward the window as there was no light inside. “She has an eye for fine things, sir.”
“It’s jewelry and I doubt either of us has enough money for any of it.”
“But it’s so beautiful. We’ll come back for it, after a raid, maybe.”
Erik pulled her arm, waving the linkboy to continue on. In spite of Tove’s complaints, she eventually contented herself with a promise that they’d go and see things in the morning. Erik couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed by it. She had never seen anything like it before. Really, he hadn’t either, but he at least knew that sort of thing existed. She made him feel almost guilty for not enjoying the majesty of it all. It was a world he never could have known, enjoying it might not be so bad.
From Death to Valhalla (The Last Einherjar Book 1) Page 9
