“Like Ausveig,” shouts a girl, making the group snicker.
“Ausveig snores?” asks Ari, adapting to his crowd. “I did not know.”
Ausveig rolls her eyes in good humor.
“Silly girls, I don’t sno?—”
“Let the skald find out tonight, then!” shouts Sifrid.
“You horny viper!” Ausveig blushes and stretches over to smack the girl on her shoulder. “Let the man speak!”
Ari’s deep laugh rises over the giggles of the younger girls.
“Your mood lifts mine, ladies,” he says. “Now, Thor wakes up, but of all the disasters, would you guess—his?—”
“Hammer was stolen!” shouts a girl drunkenly.
“Shut up!” shouts another.
“Oh, sorry.”
Ari keeps his grin through all the interruptions. The man is patient. He could reprimand the slaves. He could leave. But his smile just shows his teeth. His strong, healthy teeth. He is so patient. I can see him being patient and loving with his children, when he has them.
“His hammer is stolen, correct. You know the tale. Shall I tell another?”
“No!” howls the crowd.
“She will shut it now,” shouts a woman.
Ari clears his throat and begins.
“Thor raged in fury, he thrashed his own house,
But still he found nothing but a terrified mouse,
He broke all the pots, cracking the bed.
He stormed outside, his face deepest red.
Red as blood.
Birds stopped their song, the sun stopped its shining,
He would murder the culprit, if he could just find him.”
Ari’s gaze combs over the crowd, letting his words linger for effect. The ladies are quiet now, listening intently. So am I, studying Ari’s oratory method.
“Thor summons Loki, for Thor has brawn,
but Loki has wit.
He could help solve the issue,
growing roses from shit.
Girls chortle.
Loki agrees, but not without reason,
