Raven Boy

Chapter 17

At dinner, Hrafn sat next to Sveinn, intrigued by this dark-haired Viking who seemed so much in control of his emotions. He wanted to talk to him.

Sveinn just threw him a quick glance and moved, making space for him.

It turned out that Hrafn was not the only one interested in Sveinn's experiences – the young red-haired lad sat across from them. Hrafn learned that his name was Knut. Knut admired Sveinn's undeniable success with women and hoped to learn something from him.

As for Sveinn, he was not intending to talk at all, giving the food his full attention, determined to enjoy every bit of it. But if Hrafn was politely waiting for him to finish, Knut was more direct and impatient.

"Hey, Sveinn," he called. "So, what about your Eydis? Did you sleep with her just for fun, or are you really planning to come back to her?" Knut meant no offense. It was just in his nature: his stare was innocently curious and sincere.

Sveinn took his time finishing chewing, and then commented in an offhand tone, "If you are trying to impress a woman, which is what really interests you, being that bold and direct will only ruin your effort."

Knut's blue eyes widened. "But... but how do you want me to talk, then?" he asked, confused.

"Delicately," Sveinn said, putting a slice of cheese on his bread.

Ottar, who sat next to Knut, elbowed him and laughed. "You are wasting your time, lad. Where did you see a delicate warrior? He sees you're hooked and is playing on your ignorance to laugh after!"

Sveinn chuckled. "Sure! Listen to Ottar! He never seduced anyone but Asta, who knew him ever since he was born. As there is still no other woman, he will end up marrying her."

Everyone laughed. Ottar looked pissed off. "No, I won't!" he retorted. "Watch out, Sveinn, or I'll marry your Eydis just in revenge!"

Sveinn just shrugged. "Go ahead, if you want. But I seriously doubt it."

Knut's eyes shone again. He held his hand palm forward, interrupting Ottar who wanted to say something else, and exclaimed. "Come on, Sveinn. Tell me what's the secret!"

Calm and undisturbed as usual, Sveinn met his gaze. "There is no secret. It's like fighting: watch, listen, pay attention and try to anticipate –"

"Yes, of course!" cut across him another Viking. "Hide behind your shield, jump at her unexpected and always, always attack!"

A thunder of laughter shook the ship.

A mysterious smile played on Sveinn's lips while Knut was completely confused. He kept turning his head from one side to another, blinking in bewilderment.

Ottar patted his back. "C'mon, lad. Stop dreaming. He will never reveal his secrets. His father was a blacksmith..."

This time, Hrafn's jaw dropped. "Really?" he asked with the same admiring expression that Knut wore just a moment ago.

Sveinn gave him a quick glance and took a bite of his bread. Then he nodded.

This time Hrafn's curiosity was stronger than his sense of good manners. To prevent any possible intervention and change of subject, he hurried to ask, "So you can make swords as well?"

Sveinn took his time to swallow the food and answered, "I know how to do it, if that's what you mean. But as you can see, I chose to be a Viking."

"A big loss for our people, I will always say so!" commented Orm, appearing out of nowhere. He sat next to Hrafn and explained, "Not that he is a bad warrior, but his father was from Arabia, and knew the secret of making fine swords."

His eyes wide with admiration, the boy looked back at Sveinn.

"Is your father still alive?" he asked.

Sveinn shook his head. "He died by accident about eight winters ago."

"Do you have any other family left?"

"Certainly, somewhere in the south."

"Are you intending to find them one day?"

Sveinn gave him a thoughtful glance. "I've never been there in my life. I was born in our town and my father had never traveled again, as far as I remember."

"He must have told you loads of interesting stories about his country!" marveled the boy.

This time Sveinn didn't answer, staring at his loaf of bread.

Hrafn vividly imagined his own father, when he was teaching or telling stories. A devastating feeling of emptiness swept over him and he felt a lump form in his throat. Swallowing to dislodge it, he hurried to apologize.

"I'm sorry, you must miss him..." He made his hoarse voice very low, so that only Sveinn would hear.

Sveinngave him a long glance, his brows raised. His arms wrapped around his knees,the boy stared unseeingly at the deck, deep in his thoughts. It occurred toSveinn that Hrafn must have a hard time coping with it all. For the first time,he felt empathy for the new konungr.