Page 37 of The Very Virile Viking

"He must have been a wise man, your grandsire."

Tears sprang immediately to her eyes. "He was. Oh, not so much in book learning, but in simple truths. I swear, Gramps had a hokey proverb for everything. We teased him by calling him the Italian redneck philosopher."

"I wish I could have met him."

She pondered what he'd said, then changed the subject. "I didn't realize that you were so unhappy back in LA"

"Not unhappy, precisely. I do not understand half of the marvels of Ah-mare-ee-ca. There is so much more wealth than in the Norselands, so many more efficient ways of doing things, so much entertainment

for your vast amount of free time. And yet I have been dissatisfied here. Until now I did not realize why.

There are just too many people crowded into too small a space, too much ease and excess, too many complications that add nothing to the betterment of everyday living."

"But those are the things that make life better. High-rise buildings. Televisions. Cell phones. Cars."

He shook his head adamantly. "All a man really needs is home and heart... and occasionally a bout of a-viking when adventure calls, or fighting when warrior skills are required by one's king." And lovemaking… good lovemaking... often… preferably twice a day. Aaarrgh! There I go again. My brain in the bed furs . "I am a farmer at heart, and the land is what I have missed most."

She laughed. "I'll tell you one thing, Magnus: if this is all an act… you are bound to get an Oscar someday."

"I would not mind a car, though I do not know what an oss-car is, but you could not pay me to live in one of those high-rise keeps. Pretty prisons, they are, if you ask me."

"You are really a strange person," Angela said with a laugh.

Strange, eh? Well, leastways she did not say I was a repulsive person. Or a slimy toad, as Inga once called me. Yea, I was correct. She likes me. "Good strange or bad strange?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out."

Or mayhap not. He looked at her and could tell she had answered honestly. Good enough… for now, he thought.

The children were chattering away, having given up on the tongue game. They too were excited about finally reaching the end of their journey.

"Look over there," Dagny shrieked. "It is a pond. And those trees… their leaves look like green hair.

Dost think fairies live there?"

"Or trolls," Njal offered, making a scary face at his sister.

"Those are weeping willow trees," Angela told them. "I loved those trees when I was a child. I have so many memories of playing games under their wispy branches. Personally, I think they resemble fine ladies with flowing dresses, especially when there's a breeze." Angela's face turned pink then, as if she were embarrassed at revealing so much about herself.

"Weeping willow? What a pretty name for a tree! We do not give trees such fanciful names in our country," Dagny said dolefully. "We just call them oak, pine, or elm."

"Are there fish in that pond?" Jogeir wanted to know.

"Yes. I think so," Angela answered, to Jogeir's delight.

"There is a swing hanging from one of the trees."

Kolbein pointed out. "Are there children living here?"

"No," Angela said. "It was my swing when I was a little girl."

"It must be a really old swing then," Kolbein blurted out, then turned red-faced when everyone laughed at his blunder.

"Not that old, young man," Angela remarked when she was able to stop laughing.

"I have never seen so many wildflowers together, and so many colors. It is beautiful." Kirsten's nose was pressed to the window on her side.

"Where are all the free-can dragons? That's what I want to know?" It was Hamr speaking. Who else !