Sigrid meets two big, friendly fools

Sigrid hurriedly gathered up her yarn as the barking drew closer. It sounded like only one dog and not a pack, but she was nervous around dogs on the loose, and she was far enough from the house that she didn’t know whether a scream would bring help in time.

Someone was shouting now – at the dog, she thought. She dropped her bag and stood just as the enormous blond dog burst through the underbrush and bounded towards her, his tongue flopping and his tail waving like a flag. She was about to scream when an enormous blond man appeared behind him and stopped the dog in his tracks with a single shout.

Sigrid was relieved to have been saved from the dog, but the sight of the man put her no more at ease. And he was walking towards her!

“Good day, cousin,” Eirik said gently when he drew near, and she relaxed a little at the softness of his voice, though her heart did not slow in its pounding. “I apologize for my dog. I did not know anyone was sitting here, or I don’t let him run at you. I hope you are not frightened.”

“Only for a moment,” she said.

“He only want to greet you. He’s a big friendly fool,” he said, stooping far over to caress the ecstatic animal’s ears.

Sigrid laid her bag on the log and sat beside it, where she could reach the grinning dog’s head more easily. “What’s his name?” she asked as she gave the animal a hesitant pat.

“Kottr,” he said. “So, it means cat,” he explained sheepishly.

“A dog named cat?” she laughed.

“It’s a long story. May I sit beside you a moment, cousin?”

“Of course, if you will tell it,” she said, feeling very bold and grown-​​up in her reply.

“So, I call my sister Kitten and she call me Puppy since we are small children,” he explained. “And when we come here, the first Christmas, I think to give her a small gray kitten from a cat she like, and at the same time she think to give me a pup from the Baron’s dog that I like. We always think alike. And so, for a joke, I name my dog Kottr, and she name her cat Hundr, which mean dog.”

“That’s funny,” Sigrid giggled.

“Not very,” he said, “but it makes us laugh.”

“It makes me laugh, too,” she assured him.

“So, it’s more funny than I thought – or you are more silly.”

“Both, I think,” she said, and was rewarded by a bright smile.

She liked the little beard and mustache he had – it made him seem older but not too old, and it reminded her of her father, for whom she still had a secret adoration. Brede despised him, Synne had forgotten him, and Selwyn had been born after his death, but Sigrid still loved and remembered him. Bits of him anyway. It was true that it seemed to be his mustache that she remembered above all else, and how it tickled when she sat on his lap and he kissed her.

“So, cousin,” he said suddenly with a look of concern, “I am afraid now this is your brother’s land, no? I follow my dog, but he don’t care about such things.”

“It is, but it’s all right.”

“Oh, I don’t think your brother like me to come too near. We don’t tell him I got lost today. Or we blame my dog,” he said with a smile.

“That’s right, silly cat-​​dog!” she said, daring to heartily caress the slobbering beast.

“Why do you come to the brook to sew?” he asked with a nod at her bag. “Do you get your silk from the fairy looms?”

“No,” she sighed, “it’s only that the light in our house is so poor. And it’s so gloomy in there! I like to come outside when it’s fine. On the rainy days, I feel as if I could scream.”

“That’s no house for young ladies,” he said.

“Well, we mean to make it nice. We are sewing hangings for the walls, and rugs and so on.”

“So, it is a house in need of young ladies,” he said thoughtfully.

“Luckily it has two,” she smiled.

“For now. Tell me, cousin, do you often come here? My cat-​​dog often get me lost here.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” she said, blushing in confusion.

“I simply don’t want him to frighten you as he do today.”

“I shan’t be frightened of him anymore,” she said and gave the panting dog a friendly pat.

“So, that is fine. I let him run. But do you always come alone? Perhaps you will like to tell someone else that he is a friendly cat-​​dog, so she isn’t frightened too.”

“Oh, no,” she said. “I always come alone. I mean… my sister usually likes to play with Selwyn or the other children. She’s only a little girl, still.”

“She don’t like to waste her time with sewing like you.”

“No.”

“So, that is fine. My cat-​​dog, he have a good nose and he will tell me if he smell you from far off. He will say, there is that pretty girl who like to rub my ears, I think we go see her a while.”

Sigrid laughed and rubbed the dog’s ears.

“You see how he like you already? He don’t want to go home with me, I can see.” He squeezed Kottr’s muzzle and tugged playfully at his ears while scolding him in Norse. “Your mother was a Norsewoman, was she not?” he asked Sigrid suddenly.

“Yes.”

“So, do you understand what I say to my dog?”

“No, she never taught us anything of her language, except Brede a little, because he wanted to learn.”

“That is too bad. I don’t sound like such a stupid pig-​​dog in Norse. Perhaps I teach you some time.”

“I would like that,” she said eagerly.

“You would? So, that’s fine. I too. And, so, you will see I’m not so stupid as you think.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid!”

“That is because you don’t know me very well yet. The more I talk, the stupider I sound.”

“I don’t think so.”

“That is because you are silly, as I said. But we don’t mind, do we, Kottr? We’re only big, friendly fools ourselves, aren’t we?”

Kottr whimpered and slobbered as if he were laughing and gazed up at his master with adoring eyes.

Sigrid wondered how anyone so fond of his dog could mean harm to a young lady. She could see that Brede was exaggerating – probably mortified at having been found out doing something he shouldn’t with Eirik’s sister. Just because he was bad with young ladies, it didn’t mean all young men were! Brede wasn’t even all that fond of dogs.