"And if ye win?"
"Ye will milk the cow, morning and night, for two days."
"Lads dinna milk cows."
"Then I am fortunate yer not yet a lad." Kannak tore off two pieces of bread and walked out the door.
Jirvel watched him test the bow again and smiled. "God has surly sent ye to us, Stefan. Will my daughter lose her wager?"
"Aye."
"Good. She needs to be set down occasionally. Spend the day hunting while we see to the marketing. The land can wait another day or two and we must keep ye strong."
*
In the light of morning, Stefan got his first good look at the land. The cottage was far enough from the tree lined river to avoid the spring floods, yet close enough for fishing and hauling water. He followed the path to the river, knelt down, cupped his hands and splashed water on his face. But when he looked at the reflection, all he saw was his father's lifeless face. He closed his eyes tight, searched his mind for a pleasing image to remember and settled on the mighty commander standing in the stern of the ship with his legs apart and his arms folded. Finally daring to open his eyes and look again, the reflection he saw was his own. He looked as tired as he felt.
Stefan ran his fingers through his short hair and got up. Then he looked in all directions, decided he was alone, stripped down and took a quick bath in the cold water. It helped refresh him.
When he went back up the path, he paused a moment to admire the beautiful oak tree next to the cottage, with its sturdy branches and leaves enough to provide ample shade on hot days. Other oak trees and bushes lined all four sides of the property except where animals had trampled paths to the river over the years. In the middle was the farm land and it was obvious most had not been worked in years. He walked to the small garden, picked up a handful of dirt and let it run through his fingers. The soil was not so different from his home, nor was the climate, which so far, was just as warm if not warmer than home.
Once she was done with the milking, he let Kannak show him where everything was, helped both women mount the horse and then handed them the empty baskets and two flasks filled with fresh milk. After they were gone, he looked over the garden again and took stock of the tools in the shed. There weren't many and the wooden shovel was warped, but with good care, and if the weather was not too harsh, he thought he could manage to grow enough to feed them with perhaps a little extra.