Embla looked around at the women gathered in the tent. Some were pale, with angular faces and blond hair like the Norse, while the majority had black hair, rounder faces with tanned skin, and narrowly curved eyes like Runar and his mother.
All of them were beautiful, and she wondered why he had shown an interest in her.
Not just you. He had liked Gertrud too!she reminded herself, and it shook away her smug pride.
‘I am sorry to disappoint you, but I will be returning to Gudvangen in the spring.’
‘Why?’
‘Because...’ She struggled to think of an answer. ‘It is where I belong.’
‘A place does not own you,’ said the older woman with a knowing look, as if she could see the fear in Embla’s heart.
‘It is my home.’
‘Home can change,’ she replied dismissively. ‘In the summer we move to the coast to fish and hunt whale. In the winter, we follow the reindeer... Sometimes they bring us here. Sometimes they take us north... It does not matter. We will always have a home.’
Embla smiled tightly, a little frustrated by this strange conversation that made her dizzy with its constant twisting. ‘People matter because they make it a home.’ She thought of the boys and her heart ached.
Miljá frowned, and then nodded with agreement. ‘That is true. It is a shame you will not consider Runar then. His home is empty and quiet. I worry about him. He has only ever been truly comfortable with a handful of people. I think...’ She held up a hand and wiggled her fingers. Then she tapped Embla lightly on the arm with one of them. ‘Youare one of them.’
‘It is more than shyness then?’ Embla asked softly, her chest feeling suddenly tight as she thought of Runar returning to his lonely cabin after she left. She had been so focused on returning, she had not thought about how empty his life would be. How, unlike her, he could not so easily choose how he lived.
‘It is.’ An understanding passed between them.
‘Is there anything I can do to help him?’
She sighed again. ‘If there was, I would have done it long ago. You must be a very special person, Embla.’
She shook her head. ‘No,really,I am not.’
Miljá gave her a knowing smile and chuckled. ‘Tohimyou are.’
Chapter Twelve
Iskko and Lejo watched him pack up his supplies. He had already dragged out everything he wanted to take with him when he had prepared the storage tent for Embla to sleep in. Now it was only a matter of loading his sleigh.
They would be travelling back early the next day, so it made sense to have everything ready for first light. It was also an excuse for him not to return to the elders’lavvu.
‘Rather than watch me, you could help,’ he suggested as he heaved another sack of grain onto the sleigh.
Lejo only shrugged and continued to sharpen his knife. Iskko picked up a sack and threw it at him.
‘Here!’ he called with a wicked grin.
Runar cursed and grabbed it from the air before it slammed into his head. ‘Perhaps I will do better without your help,’ he grumbled.
‘As you wish.’ Iskko smiled, hopping up onto the water barrel he had been leaning against. He gestured towards the tent. ‘It looks very cosy in there...’
Runar ignored him.
Unfortunately, Iskko’s curiosity had no limit. ‘Maybe it is time I got myself a woman... I think I want one like Embla, warm-hearted and with deliciously plump curves.’ He swept his hands down lewdly, as if he were shaping a woman’s body with them. Runar glared at him until his hands dropped and he added quickly, ‘Not her specifically, just someone to cuddle in the furs with... How did you find your woman?’
Runar straightened. ‘Embla? She is not my woman.’Sadly,he thought. ‘Shewas lost and took shelter in the caves. Then an ice sheet fell and it blocked her path home. She will be living with me until the spring thaw.’
‘Your mother will want you to marry her. She will say the spirits of the mountain sent her to you, and that refusing their gift will be an insult. You will have no peace from your mother until you ask Embla to be your bride.’ Iskko laughed; he found nothing more amusing than his friend’s discomfort.
Runar was beginning to wonder why he was friends with these men. He guessed it was because they were always blunt with their opinions—even to the point of almost appearing rude. It made them difficult men to like, but easy ones to trust. Runar would gladly accept honesty over politeness. It was why he had always preferred his mother’s people over his father’s; there were rules and unspoken secrets in Norse society that he could never understand.
