What a great start. At least no one can claim Ylvin isn’t open-minded.
“Uh… no need,” I say.
“Enough entertainment,” she announces. “We all need to eat.”
Finally, food. Ari and I had brought some bread and cheese, but not enough for a trek of several hours up a steep mountain. My stomach is rumbling, and I am ready to bite into whatever this mysterious woman has prepared.
“Elof killed and butchered a deer yesterday. The gods provide,” she says. “Ari, you will part one of its legs. Kilda, you will fetch us water.”
Fetch water? More carrying? Fuck me. The meal isn’t even cooking yet, let alone ready to eat.
“I can fetch the water,” says Ari. “If Kilda would rather cut the deer leg.”
Sounds better, not that I have the skill to part an animal. I’m sure I can figure it out. Chopping meat into chunks can’t be that hard.
“Nonsense, Ari,” says Ylvin. “Though I appreciate the gallantry, I have given my orders. After you have prepared the meat and filled two buckets with water, you will cook a stew. Then we will eat.”
Odin’s beard. This woman and her man have just been lying in bed all day, probably rutting like animals. I can smell the odor of sex escaping the tent from here. They could have cooked already, but now I have to cook for them?
“Yes, Ylvin,” says Ari. Gone is his usual defiant wit, replaced by the conduct of a submissive pup.
The buckets are next to the tent. Struggling to control my temper, I walk over and grab them by their ropes.
“Is there a stream nearby?” I ask in my sweetest voice, to mask my irritation.
“Just the waterfall. I’m sure you noticed it on your way up,” replies Ylvin.
CHAPTER 24
It’s too much to take in at once. Water cascades down the cliff, a long white fall carving its way through the rock. The spray hangs thick in the air, forming a layer of refreshing droplets on my skin.
Such beauty. Such shine. A magical corner of the world. The brightest rainbow I have seen arcs through the mist—a scene worthy of myth.
“By Freya,” I whisper.
Minutes pass as I enjoy the serenity of sun and water. Even the roar settles into me, soothing as a mother’s lullaby. I lose track of time.
Groa once asked me if I could control the waterfall. I said no, but I understand better now. Of course I can’t. The gods decide. I am but a simple woman, one of many. I can control my body,but I cannot control the world. I cannot control what comes, and what goes. Only the gods can.
It’s hard to look away from the rainbow as I fill the buckets. They are heavy, but I don’t even mind. I walk back to camp with thoughts enchanted by the monstrous waterfall.
I can bathe in water. Drink it. Fill a bucket to move it.
But it’s water. It behaves according to its nature. I am not in control. I can pour it, splash it, play with it, cook with it. But in the end, it is clear—water is water. I can’t change it. It’s nature, by Freya. Nature. Dearest Groa, I understand now, maybe. I am not a god. I am Kilda.
“So?”asks Ylvin.
“Uh… so what?” I respond, laying down the buckets of sloshing water.
“Did you like it?”
I realize what she’s asking me. Her lips bear a crooked smile, like she knew what the waterfall would do to me. I guess they don’t call her a wise-woman for nothing.
“It was beautiful,” I respond, awe in my voice. Why would I hold back? It was what it was—a wonderful moment.
“I thought you would like it,” she says with a smug wink. “Now… Ari!”
Shuffling in the foliage. The skald approaches, bearing a basket of parted leg-meat.
