Gaddi pointed toward one of the buildings. “Tove, you can assist the women until it comes time to cut the grains. They’re seeing to the cheeses, I assume you know your way around such things?”
Tove nodded. “Born to it.” She smiled.
Gaddi returned the smile. “Glad to hear it.”
She left, jogging to the house as best she could with the pack on. Gaddi turned his attention to Erik when she was away.
“We’ve got turnips and carrots that need digging and grain that needs threshing. Both require a strong back and stamina, though I doubt you’re lacking in either.”
“I know how to dig, I can say that confidently. I’ve never threshed grain, so I can’t say as I know how to do it.”
Gaddi seemed surprised at the news. “Never? I’d gladly show you.” Gaddi walked over to a small shed with Erik in tow and produced a long pair of sticks attached by an iron ring.
“This is a flail. You hold the longer end and strike the wheat to thresh it.”
“Right, that sounds like something I could ruin, so…”
Gaddi laughed. “Then we’ll have you dig.”
He was walked to a field where four other men were already at work pulling turnips up from the ground and tossing them into baskets. Gaddi pointed Erik to the baskets and then took his leave. No one spoke to him as he picked a row over from the men who were working and started pulling. There was a knife in the basket which made Erik curious so he watched the men around him. They cut the root and the greens from the turnip, taking the bulb and leaving the rest in the field. He’d avoided being screamed at by people so far and he was intent on keeping it that way for as long as he could manage, so he copied them as best he could. He’d half-filled the first basket with turnips when the idea occurred to him that most of these people had been here for hundreds of years. Tove seemed to be the only person he’d met so far who was bothered by it. He tried to understand why, deciding that maybe it was simple enough. They were farmers, they hadn’t known anything more than what he was doing just now and they lived in a place where it was eternally spring. It could be a sort of heaven for them.
He filled baskets at half the speed of the other men, who took to ribbing him when they were done with their rows and he still had half of one left. He’d managed three rows of the ones that were there when he’d arrived. Not an impressive number, but he was happy enough to have helped. His back was less happy about it, but that was just a punishment for spending a lifetime mostly sitting and eating fried foods.
Lunch was served when the turnip field was done. Some of the women must have undone Tove’s loose braids as they had done them up into something much more intricate. She brought him a plate of cheese and cubes of boiled meat with turnips. The meat was good enough but Erik was already starting to wish he had better options. Tove stood near him, eating her plate of food as well.
“What’s with the hair?”
Tove put her food down and patted at the braids. “For work in the fields they said. There’s meant to be a headdress to cover it up as well. Is the cheese to your liking?”
“You make it? It’s sour.”
Tove made a face. “It’s meant to be sour.”
“Well, then it’s the way it’s supposed to be and it’s not very good.” He picked up a chunk of the cheese and ate it.
“Not good but still you ate it?”
“I doubt I’ll be offered anything else. Plus, I’m a guest, right?” He ate the boiled beef and handed the plate back to her. “Thanks.”
She smiled and stacked the unevenly made plate as best she could under her own. The others were finishing their food at roughly the same time and Gaddi called the men over to the carrot field. The work there was much the same as it was with the turnips and went by quickly. The men had introduced themselves briefly on the walk to continue their jobs, but that was the end of their interest in him it seemed. He wanted to be sad about it, but he knew he would be heading back to Kvernes at the end of the day and they were likely thinking the same thing.
It was mid-afternoon when the carrots were done and they moved on to the wheat. The women walked ahead of the men with scythes, cutting the wheat. The men were in two rows, one tying the sheaves, and then Erik and his group stacked them. It was nearing dark when the work was done.
As they were preparing to go, Gaddi approached.
“You both did well.” He looked at Erik. “Slow, but the work was good.” He laughed, relieving Erik’s tension at the statement.
Gaddi handed over five coins for each of them for the day’s work and sent them on their way with good wishes.
Tove waited until they were out of earshot to start her complaints. “How did you find the work, Erik?”
“Honestly?” He rolled his head back and forth, deciding how much to say. “It was boring. Hard. Hot.”
Tove trotted out in front of him, spinning and walking backward. “Isn’t it all so boring?” She was smiling again when she spun back to face the trail. “I can’t begin to understand how they smile in Kvernes. Or in that sorry little town. None did while I was stuck inside with them, making sour cheeses in silence.”
“And you want to leave?”
She slowed, coming back to his side. “I do. I hope to.”
“Turnip farming seems like a pretty cozy life, though. Same thing for dinner every night. You might be missing out.”
Tove scoffed.
