Page 65 of Hungry Like a Wolf
“Not this time, son, but I will help you practice later.” He stooped and picked Thormod up, settling him against his side. “Joseph, organize the targets, and Erin, ensure the feast will be spectacular for those who are triumphant.”
“I’ll throw a spear,” Carmel said, tipping her head and studying her husband. At home, her father would have refused such a thing, despite her having the necessary skills. Women didn’t compete with men; they were not as good, so what was the point?
“Excellent idea.” Ravn grinned and wafted his hand in the air. “Shield-maidens and queens may also compete in our festival.”
“And what is the festival to celebrate?” Erin asked.
“My beautiful, giving wife who has traveled land and sea to rule the good people of Drangar at my side.” He cupped Carmel’s cheek and set a kiss on her lips.
A cheer went up, the gathered crowd clearly enjoying their king’s light mood and appreciating the reason why they were having a festival.
“Come,” Tyr said to Joseph. “I will help with the targets.”
The two men wandered off, gesturing as though planning on the construction.
“There are more people in Drangar who speak my language than I first knew,” Carmel said to Ravn.
He slipped his hand around her waist and surveyed the horizon out on the fjord. “It is Joseph’s doing. He might be Christian, but he is wise and he has told us that in order to trade with other lands we sail to, in order to conquer, we must speak a common language with those we meet.”
“That is true.”
“My father and his men sailed east a lot and learned the language of the people there. Many here still speak it. But Haakon and I were always more interested in sailing west.”
“Why?” She picked up Thormod’s small catapult that he’d dropped and passed it to him with a smile.
“We’d grown bored of the spoils of amber, furs, and autumn herring. We wanted more… We knew there was more.”
“Gold crosses, brass candlesticks, silver coins.” She raised her eyebrows.
“And beautiful women who know instinctively know how to please their husbands in bed.”
“Shh.” Her eyes widened and she nodded at Thormod.
Ravn laughed. “Do not fear. Viking boys learn about sex from a young age. He will take his first woman at thirteen; I will give her to him as a gift.”
“What? But…”
“I will choose an older woman from the village, beautiful,ja, but older and experienced. It is as important as the day he gets his arm ring.”
“Ravn, I really think that we…”
“You will not change all of my ways,” Ravn said. “And I think you’ll agree that the fact my father did that for me at thirteen pleases you very much. I was skilled last night,ja? It was not the blind leading the blind. I’d had a good teacher.”
She stared into his flashing, blue eyes; the reflection of the fjord filled them. The image of her husband, at only thirteen, bedding an older village woman wasn’t one she wanted in her head. “But Thormod should wait for the sanctity of marriage… I…”
“Marriage means many of the same things to us, but also some different.” He kissed her again. “And I think you’ll agree, so does being a woman here in Drangar.” He raised his eyes knowingly.
Thormod pointed to the beach. “Look, Father. Look.”
Tyr and Joseph were piling up two straw bales and beside them sat a large, round target, wooden and covered in white linen, with a red center.
The village men and women were gathering and three groups had partitioned themselves off. One held bows and arrows, another spears, and a final group clutched knives.
“Ah, good.” Ravn set Thormod down. “We are nearly ready for our festival.”
Carmel took the little boy’s hand; she didn’t want him running in front of a target if weapons were about to start flying through the air.
Along the pier, villagers lit fire baskets, and passed around horns of mead.
