“How are you feeling, Elof?” exclaims Ylvin.
“Good, my dear,” he responds.
“Are you finished with your food?”
“In a second.”
“Very good.” Ylvin stands, swaying slightly. “I was planning on sharing a tent with you, Kilda, but I get so cranky when I don’t get to snuggle with my loving Elof. Right, Elof?”
“That’s right, my dear,” he responds as he stands, slamming his empty bowl on the ground.
“So, you two can share the smaller lavvu,” she states with a broad grin. “Oh, and do the dishes in the morning, will you?”
I stand, offended by the suggestion of sharing a tent with Ari alone. Is she implying I am easy? Loose? My head boils at the woman’s proposal.
“Relax, Kilda, surely each of you brought your own blanket,” she says as she glides toward her own tent with Elof at her heels.
“But I?—”
“It will be fine, Kilda,” says Ylvin without turning around. “Besides, you two seem to be getting along just fine.”
CHAPTER 26
“Don’t get any weird ideas!” I hiss.
I’m fuming. It’s already weird. I’m already dishonored. What unwed girl sleeps in a tent with some strange man? An older one at that. A skald, to top it all off. I unroll my blanket and toss it on the floor.
“What kind of ideas do you mean?” asks the bastard crow.
As if he doesn’t know. Of course he’s unbothered. Surely his friends would slap him on the shoulder with a shithead grin—‘Well done, my man,’ they would say, or ‘Another notch on your belt, big guy.’ How can men be glorified for freely bedding women when we get shunned for the same? Humiliated. Even exiled, I’ve heard.
“Don’t play stupid,” I whisper harshly.
What would my fellows think if they knew we were sleeping in the same tent? What would Vidar think? It’s just such arisk for my reputation. I can’t believe Ylvin is so blind. A wise-woman? More like a drunken bitch with a simpleton for a husband.
“No one will know,” says the skald. “Don’t worry.”
I glare at him with righteous fury.
“Easy for you to say! You can fuck goats, trolls, or maidens—it’s all the same. You can still find a wife after!”
“Those are very strange ideas,” he whispers as he casually lies on his blanket, leaning on his elbow. “No one’s fucking any goats or trolls or maidens, okay? Promise.”
“You don’t get it, do you? That’s not the point. People talk.”
“What about—” he pauses, as if he’s deep in thought. “Lynxes, magpies, and fir trees—can we fuck those?”
“Fuck you, your kin, and your ancestors,” I say as I turn my back to him and unfold my cow-hide. I don’t think I’ve ever said anything so insulting to anyone. If I said it to any other man, I would expect a violent repercussion. But on some level, I know Ari won’t beat me or even slap me.
“I’ve known many skalds—even northern ones—but yours is the filthiest mouth I have come across,” he says with a laugh.
Despite myself, I stifle a giggle. Northerners are notorious for their endless curses, even when they are in a good mood. I only swear when angry, I think. In some strange way, Ari seems to mean it as a compliment. I continue preparing the hide to sleep on, bending over on my knees to stretch it out and spread it evenly. The worst thing in the world is an uneven hide with crinkles all bundled up under you. One of the corners refuses to untangle and find its place.
“Fucking cow-hide,” I say under my breath.
“I have to say, Kilda,” I hear behind me. “My pants look really good on you.”
I turn to him, realizing I have been bending over in tight leather pants, displaying my ass for him to enjoy at his leisure.It hadn’t struck me, but of course this old pervert loves sneaking peeks at the curves of younger women.
