“Do you want to marry him?” he finally asked.
I shook my head. “No, which is why I’m not trying to change my father’s mind. And why I told Bjarke to just impregnate Ingrid. He loves her, and they should have the chance to be happy.”
Týr’s expression finally turned to a curious one I could read. “You would pass up the chance to marry the jarl’s son so he can be happy?”
I nodded.
He smiled and tugged the leather strap holding the baskets together. The leather released its hold, allowing me to take my herb basket on top. Týr then tucked a strand of my red hair behind my ear. His calloused skin brushed against my cheek, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The action was tender and sweet.
My heart beat faster in my chest. Right now would be the time a mortal man would recite me poetry. But I knew a god wouldn’t recite me poetry.
Predictably, the next thing out of his mouth confirmed that. “Who was the woman who wouldn’t leave me alone in the village?”
I chuckled and continued toward the forest. “Ilka. She’s Jarl Rune’s eldest daughter.”
He followed. “Why did she give you those dark looks?”
“Because she doesn’t like any of the women in Runavík. She finds them competition in her pursuit of a new husband since hers died in a raid last summer. And she didn’t like that someone inferior to her could steal your attention from her.”
His brows knitted together. “She was trying to keep my attention?”
My head tipped back as I laughed. “Oh, what I wouldn’t do to hear you say that to her face.”
Týr grinned. “If it’ll get you to laugh like that again, I’ll announce it to the whole village.”
And I laughed some more. Public humiliation could do that woman some good.
We arrived at the first area for me to pick flora. This one wasn’t on the list for immediate replenishing, but I knew it’d be needed soon.
“Who was the woman with Ilka?” Týr asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know the names of the jarl’s thralls.”
He knelt beside me. “Does your family have thralls?”
I dug at the roots of one plant. “We used to have two. One man was indebted to my father and worked his freedom back. The other died of illness.”
“I see.”
When I was done picking, we moved on and he continued with his questions. “Is Leif your only sibling? I’ve only heard you talk about him, but wasn’t sure.”
I frowned, my chest constricting. “We had a younger sister, but sickness took her three winters ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, and I appreciated it. People died of sickness all the time, but it still hurt when it was someone you loved. And I knew that all too well beyond my sister.
We came to the next herb I needed.
“What do your father and brother do for a living?” Týr inquired. “You seem well off, and don’t have a large farm.”
“My father is a carpenter. Leif is still learning from him, but is almost at the point my father would feel comfortable with him taking over if something were to happen to him.”
“Sounds like your father knows quite a lot.”
I nodded. “He’s the best in Runavík, and even better than many others in surrounding towns and villages nearby. It’s one of the reasons he has such good standing with the jarl. Only the best furniture, house building, and tools and weapon pieces for him.”
“How long have the men of your family been doing this craft?”
I paused to think. “My father didn’t start out a carpenter. His family are farmers. He married up with my mother, and learned her family craft. I think the men have been carpenters for several generations. I never met them, so I don’t know for sure.”
