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Ingolf came back from his task, working his shoulders. He spoke to Mary in the elven tongue, slowly and a bit clumsily: ?Herves?- wife -?you can throw me on my back and leap upon me when you will, but I may grow resentful if you do it to other men… unless there?s a dagger in your hand.? ?Herven? -husband-?with you I will use not the dagger of war for your eye, but the feather-duster of tickling for your man parts!?
Virginia Kane was demonstrating what you could do with a lariat from horseback; seeing one of their dodging, ru
Edain snickered at the memory.?Chief, a man in his eightieth summer would have thought that fu
Rudi sighed reminiscently.?And then your da came out and took us by the ears and pitched us both into the pond,? he said.?Lucky it was that was a warm day and we weren?t wearing anything but old kilts.?
Edain shuddered.?Lucky indeed, Chief. You ran back up the hill to Dun Juniper. I had to face me mother!?
Just then Harberga came back out the door and called, smiling: ?If the children are finished their play, the meal is ready!?
A herald more formal came out of the main doors of the hall and blew the summoning horn, a long harsh huuuuuuuuuu through the cold air.
The twin doors were twice man-height, thick oak slabs strapped with iron on either side of a framework of beams, and at the end of the long rectangular structure. The roof above towered high and steep-pitched; the gable beams crossed in snarling dragonheads above the snowy shingles, and a steady trickle of smoke came from the mortared fieldstone chimneys. Pillars on either side of the entranceway were carved in a strong stylized style.
The shapes were a red-bearded man who bore a hammer and a woman with a distaff and hair of bright gold; gold covered the elk antlers above. Within was a square stone-flagged chamber ringed with benches, trunks, pegs and racks where outer clothes and weapons could be left. Rudi was wearing his good kilt and plaid beneath his winter gear today-a kilt wasn?t as warm as trousers, but it was more than enough for a while, if you had drawers on beneath.
He offered his arm to Mathilda as they went through the i
Is it not? he thought, but kept his silence. Well, that?s between him and you at your next confession.
Bjarni had seated Rudi at his right, and Mathilda at the Mackenzie?s side; those were positions of honor, and let him talk to the Bjorning chieftain. Evergreen boughs in wreaths on walls and rafters scented the air, and a decorated fir tree stood tall in the center. The feast was to be long and leisurely. Rudi enjoyed it-potato soup, roast pork, braised red cabbage, more potatoes prepared in half a dozen ways, a meat pie not quite like anything he?d tasted before?Now that?s not beef, nor venison either, I think,? he said thoughtfully after he?d chewed and swallowed; the ground meat was mixed with minced onion and some herbs, and it had a musky undertone, not exactly rank but strong.?Though it?s more like venison or elk than any tame beast I?ve had.?
He plied his fork again:?Tasty!? ?Moosemeat tortiere,? Harberga said, smiling at his enthusiasm. ?Most households here take a moose in the fall, when the frosts set in; we make all the pies then and freeze them in the cold pantry for use all winter. There?s near half a ton of meat on a big moose, and the bones and sinew and hide are all useful too, but they take a good deal of killing.?
Bjarni?s eyes lit and went to one of the spears on the wall; it was a long hunter?s weapon, with wings forged into the base of the head to prevent an irate beast from ru
A scowl:?And too many of them are man-eaters by choice. Bears leave humans alone, usually, and so do wolves-though they?ll both eat our stock, ayuh! But the tigers are a menace, and there are more every year.? ?They?re common in Montival, unpleasantly so sometimes,? Rudi replied.
Mathilda leaned across and touched the tip of Rudi?s nose; there was a tiny, barely visible fleck of scar there. ?I was there when a tiger did that to Rudi with the very end of one claw,? she said proudly.?He held it away on a spear until it died.? ?It was already wounded,? Rudi said lightly.
Then a faraway look came into his eyes.?Remember those lions we came across in the Sioux country?? ?Lions?? Bjarni asked, intrigued.?I?ve heard of them, but there are none here. Too cold in winter, I suppose.? ?Probably too many trees, as well; the beasts don?t like close forest. They?re spreading north from the desert countries, from the Rio Grande. We were being chased at the time, and sort of ran into them, and through them, at a gallop. It was lucky, in the event-they?d just had time to get good and angry when our foemen arrived expecting to cut our throats and found the lions instead…?
Bjarni and his wife chuckled, and so did the rest of the Bjornings within hearing; evidently that appealed to the Norrheimer sense of humor too. ?What?s an angry lion like?? he asked. ?Every bit as nasty as an angered tiger, and they run in packs like wolves. You?-he pointed his fork at Mathilda-?wanted to keep that cub as a pet!? ?It was cute,? Mathilda said. ?It was young. I?ve had many a shrewd scratch from ordinary moggies who meant no real harm. One that weighed three hundred pounds, with claws like knives…?
They spoke more and pleasantly, of hunting and then local lore; evidently Norrheim was a loose federation of quasi-independent chieftain-ships, each heading a tribe comprised of bondar -yeomen-who pledged allegiance to a godhi of their choice, who lead them in war and sacrifice and presided at assembly. The farmers changed the allegiance if it suited them; Mathilda looked faintly scandalized at that, but held her peace about it. Local folkmoots called things met each spring to hear cases and vote on laws, and an Althing in the summer did the same for the whole. Eriksgarth was the senior chieftainship, its master head of the Bjornings, and home of the Althing?s meeting ground.
They didn?t take a census here, but Rudi estimated from what his host said that the Norrheim folk were about as numerous as the Clan Mackenzie; threescore thousand or a little more, and growing fast, more by births now than by outsiders joining. ?My father made us a people,? Bjarni said proudly.?He knew what must be done-when to speak, when to show an example, and when to break heads. Folk who were cast adrift in a world made strange saw it. Others of his Bjorning kindred who came north with him became godhi of their own tribes too, as he set them here or there to help put the land in order. I remember a little of the begi