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“Agnarr, what in Christ’s name did you have brought in on my father’s ship?” Elias stared as the cargo was unloaded, trying to figure out what it was.
“It’s a surprise!”
“It’s a monstrosity!” Agnarr laughed as Elias gaped at the metal contraption. “Are you going to put it in the dungeon and use it on the prisoners?” Arendelle’s dock bustled around them, the burly sailors and longshoremen giving the young king and the eldest son of Minister of Trade a wide berth.
“It’s not a torture device.”
“It looks like one,” Henrik grunted and cracked his knuckles. His mother, Madam Sundberg, was a formidable woman who had clawed her way to the top of a lutefisk empire and who, even as King, Agnarr tried not to cross. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was very familiar with torture devices as a facet of business practice and had passed such practical knowledge on to Henrik.
“It’s not,” Agnarr insisted as they ambled closer. “It’s a new invention. From Denmark. It’s like a velocipede. But for two people.” Although he would never admit it to his childhood playmates, it didn’t look quite as impressive as the diagram the inventor had sent him.
“Are those . . .iron wheels?” Elias raised an eyebrow. “Those are going to play merry hell on the cobblestones.”
“Heard the Brits call these things boneshakers,” Henrik intoned. “You shouldn’t do this, Ag. Arendelle is going to need heirs. You know. Some day.” Elias snorted and clapped a hand over his mouth. Agnarr glared Henrik.
“Your concerns are noted, but it’ll be fine.”
“Who’s going to want to ride with you on that death trap, anyway?” Elias asked.
“I’m not.” Henrik said. “I want to go riding, I climb on a horse. Much easier on the squishy bits.”
“Who said I wanted to ride with you?” Agnarr puffed his chest out as ran a hand along the back seat. “The whole point of this, Henrik, is to ride with a young lady.” Henrik clicked his tongue thoughtfully and looked a bit impressed. Agnarr continued. “That’s why there’s this space here,” he waved a hand at the front. “For their skirts.”
“Agnarr,” Elias sighed, crossing his arms. “I don’t know a single girl who’d be crazy enough to get on that thing with you.”
“Iduna.”
“What?” Agnarr and Elias spoke as one, except Agnarr’s voice cracked.
“Iduna,” Henrik said flatly. “She’s crazy enough.”
“Oh, that’s true,” Elias looked thoughtful. “Iduna is insane enough to try it.” Agnarr felt his face flush, ducked his head, and hoped they didn’t notice.
“Well – I mean. You know. If you both think I should ask her –“ Speaking to the handlebars, he missed the knowing grins shared by his companions.
“She should be closing up at the apothecary soon. Right Henrik?”
“Yeah. Old Man Visser usually leaves her to it. We can go now.”
Which was how Agnarr found himself at the top of one of the larger hills along Windmill Way with Henrik, Elias, Iduna and two of her friends from the boarding house, Maddie and Greet.
“What exactly is this thing?” Iduna asked as she ran her fingers along the metal frame.
“Some new Danish invention.”
“What is it with you and new Danish things?” She teased. Agnarr grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. “This should be fun!”
“You’re going to kill somebody,” Greet shook her head as she looked down the long dip of the hill. The sun was starting to sink behind the mountains.
“Everyone is home for dinner,” Iduna replied as she folded her skirt away from the wheel. She tucked the excess material onto the seat. Agnarr swallowed nervously. The hill seemed a lot steeper than it did a few minutes ago and Elias and Henrik seemed far too eager for him to push off. He prayed he looked half as composed as she did. Council meetings didn’t make him sweat half as much.
“Then you’re going to kill yourself,” Greet insisted.
“I won’t let anything happen to her,” Agnarr said firmly and then felt his stomach flop when Iduna flashed him one of her sunny smiles.
“We’ll be fine, Greet.”
“Your Majesty, can we get some kind of verbal pardon that when you break your neck she won’t be tried for regicide?”
“If anything happens to me, Greet, you can chalk it up to my own idiocy,” he promised as he straddled his seat.
“The Council will definitely believe that,” Elias laughed.
“Don’t worry,” Iduna rolled her eyes and grinned. “I won’t let anything happen to him.” She looked back. “Are you ready?”
“Ready!” Agnarr said. They inched forward as the others drew back. “We’ll start with the left foot.” The front wheel wobbled a moment, making an unearthly sound as iron ground against stone, but Iduna concentrated on righting it as they reached the slope of the hill. She heard Agnarr softly chanting “Left side, right side, left side,” as she worked to push against the pedals. They were balancing. It was working.
And then gravity took over and they were flying.
Iduna let out a whoop as they rattled down the mostly empty street, managing to avoid the handful of astonished citizens who watched them whiz past. She could hear Agnarr let out his own vibrating cheer as they clattered along. She couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to pick up speed. The houses and store fronts and carts and lampposts were blurring together and her teeth were rattling together inside her head as they raced towards the docks.
She hadn’t gone this fast or felt the wind rush along her face and roar in her ears since she was a child. She hadn’t felt the heady high that came with motion and speed and a slight touch of the unexpected. She heard Agnarr laughing and whooping from behind and it was wild and it was warm and it was wonderful.
And there was the pier and the sudden realization that she had no idea how they were supposed to stop the damn thing. And then it was wet.