‘Why are you here then?’ asked his mother gently, interrupting his thoughts. ‘Usually, we do not see you until the spring. Do you need supplies?’ His mother watched his face with growing concern, no doubt seeing the many worries that buzzed around his mind like angry bees.
Not waiting for him to respond, she turned and spoke directly to Embla in Norse, ‘My name is Miljá. I am Runar’s mother. I am sorry, but we will have to put you in our storage tent tonight. There is not much room here. We had many new births last spring, and ourlavvusare very crowded.’
Runar stared at his mother in horror, and then quickly tried to hide it. There was plenty of room in the tents normally, and thesiidawould never leave anyone out in the cold.
He glanced at Embla, but to his relief she did not seem disturbed by it. Which eased his mind greatly.
‘I understand,’ Embla said warmly. ‘We have shared a cabin for weeks, so one night in a tent together is no hardship.’
His mother glanced at him with a satisfied smile, as if to say,See!
Runar took a step forward, noticing the growing number of elderly faces at the entrance of the tent. ‘There are a few things we will need...’
‘Let us speak of it inside,’ his mother said kindly, gesturing for them to go inside ahead of her. Runar took a deep breath, preparing to face the many questions and expectant faces of thesiida. Usually they asked him endless questions about his life, and he found speaking with them exhausting. But he quickly realised they were not interested in him this time; their eager eyes followed Embla, and he felt for once as if he had a shield.
The inside of the tent was a familiar sight. But he glanced at Embla to see her reaction. She soaked up the interior with wide eyes, and an expression of awe that reassured him. She did not mind the stares, because she was also curious about them.
A large brazier sat in the middle of the room, with low beds surrounding it. The beds were wooden frames with animal skins stretched over them. The floor was covered in reindeer pelts, and several bags hung from the ceiling poles. The central fire was large, and encompassed by flat rocks, the smoke spiralling up and out of the hole in the peak of the tent where the pine poles crossed.
The elders returned to their seats, some of them picking up their crafts absently, even as they stared expectantly at Embla as if she were about to entertain them with a song.
His mother showed her to a seat on one of the beds, and he sat beside her. They were each given a cup of warmed berry wine. Runar drank deeply, glad to have something strong and sharp to ease the awkwardness of this meeting.
Why had he not considered how difficult this might be?
He supposed he had been too focused on what he could give Embla by coming here, and not on what would happen when they arrived. More and more of the tribe were pouring in to look at her. It wasn’t often they met one of the Norse from the other side of the mountain.
His chest felt tight with so many people sharing his air. The brave ones pushed forward and showed off their crafts: beads, drums, reindeer bags, and tunics decorated with bright embroidery, as well as shaman carvings for luck and good fortune.
She barely had time to eat the bowl of reindeer stew that was pressed into her palms, between all the demonstrations. He had eaten his own quickly, enjoying the rich taste of meat mixed with the sharpness of dried berries. But it was beginning to sit heavy in his stomach, especially now that the tent was becoming more crowded. Several elders gave him piercing looks, unspoken questions, but he could not answer them even if he wished to.
He sank into himself, avoiding their eyes while Embla talked cheerfully with his mother, completely undisturbed by the crowd. Miljá translated her pleasant words of admiration to each and every person who spoke with them, and his mother seemed more pleased by Embla’s company than his own. Which would have offended him if it were anyone else but her.
Eventually he saw his friends Iskko and Lejo duck their heads into the tent. Iskko was grinning at him stupidly, as if seeing him with a woman was the most hilarious sight, while Lejo had a bitter scowl upon his face. Despite their expressions, he was glad to see them, as it gave him the perfect excuse to leave.
But could he leave Embla alone?
It seemed wrong to leave her with strangers. He would have hated it.
Maybe she also wanted to leave, and was hiding her discomfort?
Runar took her hand in his, hoping to reassure her. ‘If you are afraid or nervous, we can leave...’ he said quietly, ignoring his mother’s frown.
But Embla looked up at him and smiled, her eyes filled with an easy warmth. ‘I am not afraid. It is wonderful here.’
Embla had never felt more welcome. As she didn’t speak Sami, Miljá translated everything that was said to her. The tribe were keen to show her their crafts, and Embla was impressed by every piece. She had seen some of the goods Runar sold in Gudvangen, but had never been allowed to buy any, as she stayed in the chambers with Gertrud and the children whenever he visited.
It was nice to be the centre of so many people’s attention for a change. She had never been anything more than the children’s servant and Gertrud’s companion. Their hospitality and delight at her opinions was flattering, and overwhelmed her with joy.
The food and drink were delicious, and Miljá carefully explained the importance of the reindeer to their everyday life. Not only did they hunt them for food, but they also used every part of the animal from the antlers to its hide.
Occasionally the men of Gudvangen would hunt them. But the Norse preferred to stay in one place, raiding and farming rather than living a nomadic life like the Sami.
The fact the Sami were closer to the wilder aspects of nature meant they were well known to have magical powers. It was what made the Norse both respectful and apprehensive of them as a people. But Embla knew excited and curious faces when she saw them, and she found the people of Miljá’ssiidawere not so different from Gudvangen, and so she felt at home regardless of their differences.
However, she was beginning to realise that Runar did not feel the same way. There were lines of worry and sweat on his brow, and he seemed pale and withdrawn.
‘Are you well?’ she whispered, feeling bad that she hadn’t noticed his discomfort until now.
