Page 71 of Hungry Like a Wolf
“Are you ready?”
“Aye, I am,” she answered.
“Ja, jeg er.”
“What does that mean?” A slight frown creased her brow.
“It means ‘Yes, I am.’”
She repeated it with concentration.
“And so the lessons begin,” he said with a smile as he kicked his horse on. “When we return, you will be thinking in my language.”
“I hope so.”
They rode out of the village amongst several shouts ofgood luckandsafe journey. Ravn nodded seriously, though Carmel smiled and waved and called her thanks.
Her light nature and ready smile were just a couple of the things he loved about her. She softened his sharp edges and was an ointment to his sometimes-fractious mood. It was as though Freya had known he’d need someone with the opposite temperament to his but at the same time someone who was still strong and skilled and regal.
Ja, she was perfect.
The journey to the coastal spot Ravn had in mind was a half-day’s ride through the forest and then another few hours past the steep entrance to the fjord.
As soon as they came out of the forest, the air was crisper and laced with the tang of salt. His stomach tightened with a sudden longing to be at sea. Sailing was in his blood. Exploring was his destiny.
Even though I’ve found what I was looking for?
He glanced at Carmel, who was studying the majestic cliffs with a look of awe in her eyes. Her skin was so delicate, her neck slender, and her hair flowing behind her, catching on the breeze.He knew the strands felt like silk when they lay on his naked chest or better still were spread on his abdomen.
The need to jump onto a longboat and hit the open ocean suddenly dissipated. He didn’t want to be anywhere except right where he was, at his wife’s side.
“The cliffs are beautiful but useless for crops,” she commented.
“They are made from the body of Ymir. His bones had to go somewhere.”
“Ymir?”
“Ja, it is how the gods created the world. From Ymir’s blood, they made all the sea and the lakes. They used his flesh to create the earth we stand upon. And his hair, they made the trees and all their leaves and branches.” He pointed upward. “And from his bones, the mountains were shaped. They made rocks and pebbles from his teeth and jaws.”
“Bones.” She frowned at the rocks. “But—”
“I know it is not your belief, but it is mine.”
“And I respect that.” She paused. “It is also quite a fascinating concept.”
“It makes sense.” He shrugged.
“Though if the sea and lakes are his blood, would they not be red?”
“They were once. They have been diluted now.”
She nodded and her attention went to the horizon. The ocean had come into view, thickly blue and sparkling. “There is also a story in the Bible about the rivers turning to blood.”
“There is?”
“Aye, when God was angry, he turned the Nile to blood. The fish died. The river was smelly and couldn’t be drunk.”
“Your god was indeed angry to do such a thing.”
