He blinked as if the smoke were in his eyes, and he nodded. ‘Yes... Are you?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She nodded. ‘Your mother says she will give us everything we have asked for, and even help us transport it back with a team of dogs!’
Runar nodded absently at her words, his eyes darting around the tent as if searching for an escape. He nodded at two young men who watched him from the entrance.
‘You can leave if you wish to...’ she offered quietly.
Relief washed over his face. ‘Would you mind?’
Miljá interrupted them by leaning across her to speak with her son. ‘You should prepare one of the storage tents for you and Embla tonight.’
Runar nodded and leaped to his feet. ‘I will do it now, and come back for you when it is ready.’ Then, with a slightly guilty expression, he added, ‘If you do not mind waiting for me?’
Embla nodded cheerfully. ‘Go. I will be fine here.’
He left with Sten following dutifully behind. After he had gone, Miljá turned to her with a soft smile. ‘He struggles in a herd. Better to give him an outside task to focus on.’
Embla frowned, watching him leave with a worried heart.
Miljá must have realised her fears, because she took her hand and patted it gently. ‘Do not worry. It takes him a little time to get used to people again, but then he is fine. His friends will help him.’ She nodded at the two men who were already following him out as he passed.
‘He did tell me he was—’ she searched for an appropriate word ‘—shy.’ It felt like a poor description.
Miljá nodded sadly. ‘When he was growing up, we lived in isolation. We tried to take him to thesiidaor Gudvangen to help him get used to company. Sometimes I think that only made him worse. A big group can be...difficultfor him—his father was much the same.’ Miljá gave her hand an affectionate pat. ‘But tell me more about yourself. I wish to know everything...’
Embla talked about her place in Gertrud’s household, the Jarl’s sons, and her role as a midwife in Gudvangen. To her surprise Miljá seemed impressed by everything she said.
‘You are a wise womanandunmarried? How is that possible?’
Embla gave a bitter laugh. ‘It is very possible. I have no status or family name... I am not an ideal match for most men.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I am not beautiful.’
Miljá looked horrified for the first time. ‘Who has told you that? You are very beautiful, and skilled. A man would be a fool not to beg for your hand.’
Embla blushed, and that only seemed to encourage Miljá more, because she reached up and pulled the cloth from Embla’s head. She had removed her hat long ago, but kept her cap on out of habit. ‘If you are not married, then you should wear your hair loose. That is the Norse way, is it not?’ The older woman began to untie and shake out her braid.
Embla nodded numbly. ‘I suppose... I mean, I never have... It can get in the way of my duties...’
But Miljá ignored her, and instead admired her hair as she fanned it out. ‘So beautiful, like honey and sunlight.’ Then after a thoughtful pause, she asked, ‘Would you like my son to court you?’
‘What? No! I mean... Why would he want to?’ But she was reminded of the way he had touched her in the cave, and their kiss beneath the Bifrost. Hedidwant to court her, andshehad been the one to deny him.
‘Why?’
Embla was beginning to wonder the same thing herself.
Before she could answer, Miljá added, ‘He needs a wife, and children—the land must pass to someone who does not mind us wintering here.’
‘I see,’ Embla said weakly. It seemed the only reason Miljá wanted her son to court her was so that he could secure the land for thesiida.
Oblivious to Embla’s discomfort, Miljá gave a miserable sigh, as if it were a worry that plagued her daily. ‘Several of our young women would gladly marry him—even though it would mean living alone in the mountain. But he has shown no interest in any of them!’
At first, Embla had felt disappointed. But now she was oddly flattered.
Was she really the only one to catch Runar’s interest?
