Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
“We worried this day would come,” Steen said from behind me. “But we will be ready when it does.”
“That’s enough learning for one day,” Freyr announced, breaking me from my own fearful thoughts. “I’m hungry.”
“I have rabbit stew cooking,” I said proudly. It had taken me all morning to prepare, and though I still struggled in almost every aspect of doing it, I felt as if maybe I had finally gotten a handle on this wretched task called cooking.
Dagr took the bow out of my hands. “Well then, let’s go try this stew of yours,” he said with a small smirk that seemed as if he was in on some secret I was unaware of.
“Oh yes, let’s,” Freyr mumbled. Steen elbowed him in the rib cage and shot him a warning look.
I’m sure they all expected a meal that was far from a pleasant feast, but I was confident I would surprise them all with my rabbit stew.
As we walked back into the house, the aroma of the stew wasn’t exactly as I had expected it to smell like. In fact, it was the complete opposite. I wasn’t sure what boiled human head smelled like, but if it had an odor, I was sure this rabbit stew would match it in comparison. Cringing as I walked to the boiling pot, I took a ladle and stirred the meat and potatoes around, which only made the pungent odor emerge all the more intense…and awful.
“Mmm, smells delicious,” I heard Tore say from behind me.
His comment seemed odd because I thought the opposite, but maybe the scent of rabbit cooking was an acquired smell I wasn’t used to.
“Well, it appears to be done,” I said. “You can all grab a bowl if you would like.”
“I can’t wait,” Freyr said, the first to grab a bowl as he winked at the other men.
Each huntsman followed Freyr and dished the stew into their bowls, then sat at the long table looking at each other with wide grins.
“You first, brother,” Steen said to Freyr.
“Oh no, let’s leave that honor for the elder. Dagr can be the first,” Freyr countered.
Dagr looked at me, at the bowl of stew, and then grumbled beneath his breath, “I would love to.”
He shoved a spoonful of rabbit meat into his mouth and slowly chewed, glaring at the other men as he did so.
“Well?” I asked, anxious to hear if I had redeemed my culinary skills. “How is it?”
He nodded and swallowed. “This is truly a meal I shouldn’t experience alone.”
Pride washed over me. I loved that I could provide a meal for these men, and though I may not be a fan of the smell, clearly Dagr was impressed enough to tell each of the men to dig in, which they all did.
“What seasonings did you use?” Tore asked with a full mouth.
“Just some herbs I found and some seeds.”
“Mustard seed?” Odin asked as he too swallowed a large mouthful of stew.
“Is that what it was?” I asked with a shrug. “I wasn’t sure but decided to put it in. Is it the seeds that make it so good?”
“Well, the seeds sure do give it bite,” Steen said, stirring the stew around with his spoon, but when he saw me watching him, he was quick to take a spoonful and put it into his mouth.
“I have to confess,” I said. “I was worried if I would ever be able to truly cook for you all. It seemed so daunting at first. But now that I can see how much you all like my stew, I will make it one of our regular meals.”
“Good for us,” Freyr said with a smirk, which warranted another jab from his brother’s arm I didn’t understand, but brothers would be brothers.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Magni asked.
“Oh, I am not hungry,” I said, yawning as I did so. “I’m actually a little tired and think I’ll go upstairs to take a nap if you all don’t mind.”
Odin was the first to shoot out of his seat. “I’ll take you,” he announced loudly and with determination.
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“But I will. After all you have done for us—cooking this fine meal—it’s the least I can do.”
Before I could protest, Odin surprised me by lifting me into his arms and heading toward the stairs. The sound of the men chuckling had me turning my head to see the men emptying their bowls back into the pot of stew with large smiles and shaking heads. Right before we got to the stairs, Odin reached for a basket of apples and held them beneath me as he continued the ascent to his room. I got a glimpse of him glancing at the other huntsmen as he gave a mischievous wink.
Maybe I should have been offended that it was now quite obvious the huntsmen had, in fact, detested the stew, but the fact that they had all sat down and tried to act as if they were enjoying the rabbit disaster said a lot for how they valued my feelings. These men truly…cared.