The woman finished the work and smiled wide. “You need anythin’ else, just give a knock. And just leave the bowls whenever it is you’re done. I’ll collect ‘em when I can.”
She was back inside after that. The stew was good, with potatoes and carrots and peas. They were vegetables he hadn’t seen in Kvernes and the bread was like nothing they’d been making at the bakery there.
Tove was more than halfway done with the sizable portion when she first said anything.
“These tiny green bits are delicious. Turnips taste different, though.”
“They’re potatoes,” Erik laughed. “And the green bits are peas. I think we may have been lied to about the world outside of Kvernes.”
Tove smiled. “I always knew they were lying. And now I have proof of it.” She laughed. “And here I am eating potatoes and, and…”
“Peas.”
“Peas!” She held her spoon up. “I can’t imagine anything better and we’ve only just started.” She nudged him. “It’s only just started, Erik.”
They finished the bowls of stew and left them on the bench. Erik asked the men standing around across from them where they could buy supplies. Tove clarified that they needed dried meat, some bread, and anything else that might be helpful.
Everyone selling things was pleasant without any of the odd feeling that Erik had gotten off of the trader before. Part of him wanted to ask if the man was from this town but it might add undue awkwardness to their short time there and that wasn’t worth doing. They’d bought two small loaves of fresh bread, one of which Tove couldn’t resist pulling a piece off of. The baker noticed and laughed.
“You like it that much, I’ll have to throw in another.”
He went in and grabbed another, wrapping it up in a piece of cloth like the others, handing it to Tove. She was lost for words.
“I don’t think she’s ever had anything like it,” Erik said, chuckling. “It’s very good, I must say.”
“You flatter a man, I’ll tell you.” The baker leaned out the door looking just down the street they were on. “If she finds that a treat, I reckon she’s not from ‘round here. There’s a man just down that way, sells plums. Four doors from here.”
“Plums?” Tove was quick to ask.
“Thought she might say that, but you’ve had ‘em, eh boy?”
Erik nodded shaking his pockets. He had five farthings and his two coins left. “I’ll go see him. Thanks.”
The baker nodded and headed back into his house. They walked down the way he’d shown them and knocked. An old man came to the door.
“What is it you need, stranger?”
“The baker said you sell plums.”
“That I do. Four to a farthing.”
Erik pulled a farthing out and put it in the man’s hand. “There you go.”
He disappeared back into the house and Erik looked down at Tove who had returned from pressing the third loaf of bread into the pack.
“Don’t guess you packed any coin of your own?”
Tove crossed her arms as the man came back with the plums. “Of course I did. Anyway, we’re a warband. It’s all the same coin. We share.”
The old man chuckled at the word warband and Tove took exception.
“What’s funny about that? We are! We’re going to—”
Erik put his hand over her face and pushed her back to stop her walking toward the old man. She turned away in a huff. The old man handed over the plums and Erik gave them to Tove to hold, which she did grudgingly.
“How far to Lofgrund from here?”
The old man poked his head out of the doorway and looked up at the sky.
“Day like this? Should make it there just about sundown if you stick to the road.”
Erik thanked him and they returned to the main road, headed north-east. After filling their jars with water, Tove handed him a plum and then tried one herself.
She frowned. “Too sweet. I prefer the bread. And we are a warband, you shouldn’t have interrupted me. He ought to know.”
“We’re not likely to be taken seriously with only two.”
She waved the plum at him dismissively. “It’s early days yet. We’ll make Odin take notice by the time we make it to Valhalla. He might even let me in at that rate.”
She finished the plum in spite of the complaint and Erik did the same, agreeing with her that it was too sweet. They kept the other two in spite of not being elated with them. The walk wasn’t any different than any other part, the roads quiet and the woods empty and easily watched. He thought it would actually be sort of hard to be a raider so long as people were armed in general. They had two knives between them, one packed with the rest of their supplies and the other with Tove. They definitely wouldn’t be effective if caught out unless Erik was given time to unpack. But he wasn’t any sort of expert with a knife except for generally knowing where to put the sharp parts.
The road wouldn’t be the place for him to find out. With the sun setting, Lofgrund came into view at the center of a field that went on for miles in each direction. Even with the city in sight, they had a half hour of walking left before they finally arrived at the gates. It was dark by then and Erik was starting to feel the deep regret of a man who decided to carry a heavy pack all day.
There were a trio of guards standing at the far edge of a drawbridge. They kept close watch on Erik and Tove as they crossed the bridge toward the gate. The construction was definitely not something
