“All in good time,” he says.
“All in your dreams, rather,” I mutter. “I wish I had my pants.”
“Pants?” he stops.
“Yes, pants. Keep going!” I laugh. “Or I might fall!”
He arrives at the top, reaching out his hand and pulling me up the last stretch. I gasp. It’s unbelievable.
“What a sight,” I whisper.
“I thought you’d like it.”
The rock’s height allows me to see over the treetops, a carpet of green that continues down the mountain slope. Beyond is the river, snaking its way down the valley and carving the soft, rounded mountains in two. Large farms lie about on the other side. To the left, the wide valley continues onward, eventually swallowed by a distant mist that invites the mind to delve into ancient mysteries.
“It’s like the veil,” I say.
“You believe in that?”
“You don’t? It’s known.”
“Old tales.”
“Aren’t you a skald?”
“I can see as much beauty in the reality of fog as in the myth of the veil.”
“You don’t believe in Odin, Freya, the Jotnar, and the rest?”
“I do. I just believe they are among us already.”
I smile. It’s a bit unorthodox, but beautiful, in its own way. Groa would probably laugh in his face. Who doesn’t know about the northern veil? Laid down by the gods to protect humans from their own curiosity and greed. How can a skald be so uneducated in the ways of the gods?
“So, are you looking forward to learning from the Volva?” I ask to break the silence. I instantly regret my question—the lack of words had been comfortable. A rare occurrence between people who don’t know each other yet. Narve always had to speak if it got quiet, to my irritation.
“You will learn from the Volva. I will learn from her husband,” he corrects.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“So?”
“So, I don’t want to talk about it now. Try to enjoy the view.”
This man, such a riot of fun. I should have bitten my tongue. It was a nice moment before I interrupted it. I enjoy the view, as ordered, as well as the comfortable lack of words that stretches between us. Minutes pass.
“It’s chilly up here,” I say, stroking my arms.
He opens his cloak and wraps it around me, pulling my body closer to his.
“Hey, I?—”
“It’s to warm you,” he says.
“No funny business then.” I hold a finger to his face.
“Never.” He smiles.
