He relaxed, feeling suddenly at home in the presence of electronic technology, remembering Fess, his father’s robot horse, who had been the inseparable companion of his childhood. Of course, Gar had tried to separate himself from the robot several times, wanting an adventure Fess wouldn’t have approved of, but the computer-brained steel horse had found him every time.
It almost seemed that Fess had found him again.
The women were gathered about the firepit at one end of the common. There were several men working with them, skinning out and cleaning the ox.
“That was a good match,” one of the men opined.
“It was indeed, Korlan,” Garlon agreed. “I was amazed that Gar lasted so long against a giant.”
Korlan nodded. “I was proud of my son. He wrestled his best, but was careful not to hurt the little fellow.”
“You should be proud indeed,” Garlon agreed.
Alea was surprised that he took no offense hearing a man bigger than he referred to as “little”; he seemed to understand that the term was relative.
“Skorag showed good hospitality to a guest, Isola,” Riara said to another woman. “You have reared him well.”
Isola smiled, pleased. “Thank you, Riara. He wrestles well and is considerate. Now if he would only settle his heart on one young woman, I would count myself a successful mother indeed.”
Orla suddenly became very concerned with the bit of hide she was scraping.
Alea watched her, smiling. “If you can find me a knife, I can help.”
“Surely, little sister.” Orla took a second knife from her belt, glad of the change of subject.
The blade was as long as Alea’s hand. She started scraping the hide loose, saying, “This knife must be so small for you! Why do you carry it?”
“For splitting the quills of feathers, to fletch arrows,” Orla told her, “and other fine work.”
Isola and Korlan lifted the ox high so the others could scrape the hide off the underside. Alea was glad the head, hooves, and tail had been removed before she came, and the spit placed. She’d seen such things done before, but preferred not to.
“This whole generation of young men seems to have grown up healthy and strong,” Riara said. “The gods have blessed us.”
“I like the chests on them,” Orla said; then, critically,
“Some of them have lumpy arms, though. Muscle enough, mind you, but lumpy.”
“I know what you mean,” said Riara. “I prefer a clean flowing line to the shape, myself.”
Garlon surveyed the woodpile and said, “I think we’d better see to splitting some more logs.”
“I’ll come with you,” said one of the other men, almost twice Garlon’s size.
They strolled off as Isola and Korlan, with a grunt of effort, hoisted the spit onto its brackets.
“Stand clear,” another man told them, then struck sparks into the tinder in the firepit. He blew on it gently; the fire caught and ran through the kindling.
“There should be dancing tonight, Tovaw,” Korlan told him. “Are your pipes tuned?”
“I had better check them,” Tovaw said.
“And my drum needs a new head.” Korlan strolled off with him, sharing a grin.
“I don’t like lumpy legs, either,” one of the other women said. “Muscles, yes, but not if they’re knobby.”
“I forged a dozen arrowheads today,” one of the remaining two men told the other. “Did you bring home an eagle from your hunt?”
“No, but a large hawk should do as well,” the other said. “We had better fletch some more arrows.”
They rambled away, but glanced back at the women, then exchanged knowing nods.
“Well, of all the nerve!” Alea cried indignantly. “Leaving us as though we had the plague! Your men are no better than ours!”
Then she realized that Isola was smirking as she watched the men wander off.
“They want us to be free to discuss their merits,” Riara told Alea, “without worrying about hurting their feelings.”
“Can women hurt men’s feelings?” Alea asked, amazed. The women laughed heartily at that, and Orla said, “Your Midgard upbringing has left you with a great deal to learn, little sister. Yes, we can hurt their feelings as easily as they can hurt ours.”
“More easily,” Riara said. “Their vanity is so easily wounded, poor souls.”
“Sometimes I think they value our good opinion too highly,” said another woman.
“True, Sria,” Riara said, “but never let them know it!” That brought another general laugh. As it ended, Alea said, “Their wandering off, then, was only good manners?”
“Well, a bit more, I would say,” Sria said judiciously, “but yes, it’s a mark of their regard for us.”
“And fear of what they might hear,” chuckled a fourth woman.
“A giant can face anything but a woman’s scorn, Narei,” Riara agreed.
“If he cares for the woman,” Narei amended.
Alea only listened, wide-eyed. She had never thought that men might fear women’s opinions of them—but that did explain why they were so quick to anger.
“You seem to know little of men’s better side,” Narei told her.
“You might say that,” Alea said bitterly. “Mind you, I’ve seen a few men who did treat their wives gently, but only when they thought no one else was watching.”
That brought a storm of incredulous questions and horrified denials.
“Surely they must flatter you when they’re courting you,” Orla objected.
“I wouldn’t know,” Alea said, bile on her tongue. “None ever courted me—I was too big.”
But Riara caught some sort of undertone to her denial. “None at all?”
“Well, there was one when I was very young, scarcely a woman.” Alea had to force the words out. “I didn’t realize that he only meant to use me, not to marry me. I learned quickly enough, though, when he went on to another lass.”
“He didn’t!” Narei cried indignantly.
“You mean he had the audacity to court you when he didn’t mean to marry you?” Orla asked, aghast.
“I mean exactly that, though of course I didn’t know it until he’d had what he wanted and left me.” Even now, fourteen years later, Alea had to fight back tears.
“If any of our young men did that, the fathers and brothers would beat him to a pulp,” Isola said darkly, “if we women did not do it to them first.”
Alea stared. “Do none of your young men come courting unless they are ready to propose?”
“Not ready, but wanting to,” Orla said slowly, “and we, for our part, let them know quite quickly if we don’t.”
“It’s unfair to keep them dancing on a string, like puppets,” Riana agreed.
“Of course,” Sria said, “they aren’t allowed to court until they have proved they can grow a crop, raise animals, and bring home a filled game bag.”
“And before a man can propose, he must build a house, though his friends may help him,” Riara said, “and keep it clean, inside and out.”
“Of course, we have to prove the same,” Orla said. “And that you can cook?”
“Cook?” the giant woman exclaimed, astonished. “Everyone can cook! How else do you think bachelors stay alive?”
“Why, living at home, where their mothers can feed them,” Alea said.
The women all laughed at that. When their mirth had ebbed, Riara said, “Fancy a mother letting a grown man stay around the house! No, our young men live in the bachelors’ house, and if they haven’t learned to clean up after themselves by then, they quickly do!”
“We’ve heard the Midgarders don’t treat their women very well, little sister,” Orla said, frowning. “From what you say, it would seem to be true.”