Sten nuzzled Embla affectionately, and with a loud sob she wrapped her arms around his shaggy body and pulled him close, burying her face in his brown fur. ‘Thank you, Sten. You saved me!’
He smiled at the way Sten sagged into her, happy to receive her affectionate thanks. He was about to try to help her stand when her hand suddenly grabbed at his tunic.
‘Runar...’ she sobbed, reaching blindly for him and dragging him into the hug. The three of them leaned on each other like the poles of alavvu. Their tight embrace offered each other comfort and gratitude as Embla cried heavy tears of relief.
It reminded him of when they had been huddled in that hole during the snowslide. A tight pain gripped his heart as he wrapped his arms around his family and held them close.
Ever practical, Embla didn’t waste too long on tears. After a moment, she wiped them away furiously and examined Sten’s wounds.
‘We need to clean him up,’ she said, getting to her feet.
‘You do that. I will dispose of the body and clean up out here. I do not want to encourage other animals to come foraging.’
Embla nodded and stumbled through the doorway, still obviously shaken by what had happened.
‘Embla!’ he called, and she turned to face him, her face still smeared with tears. ‘You did well.’ He wanted her to know that, no matter how much this experience had terrified her, she had still triumphed.
But Embla shook her head miserably, and turned away. ‘I should not have come outside. You said not to, but I thought it was you returning...and...it is my fault Sten is hurt.’
Sharp claws dragged across his heart. ‘No, I should have come home sooner. I am the one to blame.’
Embla shrugged and gave a miserable sniff before walking away. He could tell she did not believe him and it broke his heart.
Runar removed the spear and dagger and tossed them aside. He knew Embla wouldn’t use that eating knife again. Then he grabbed the tail of the wolf and dragged it down the stairs. He hated this dead creature with a fury he would never have imagined possible. Never before would he have treated an animal with disrespect, especially not a predator—it could anger the spirits that ruled the mountains. But he knew without a doubt this beast had been sent to test them, and he despised it.
There would be no convincing Embla to stay with him now. She had learned the true danger of living so remotely from others. No wolf would have dared come to her door in Gudvangen. That was the benefit of living in a town. People looked out for each other, and wild animals naturally kept their distance.
The wolf had been diseased. He suspected after looking it over that it was from an old wound festering at the back of its hind leg. Which was a relief, as he would not have to fret over Sten’s health, and he knew Embla would take great care of him and his bites.
He disposed of the wolf’s body as far away from his home as possible without being away for too long, and then headed home. The boar he had caught was still lying at the boundary where he had left it. After hearing Sten’s barking and Embla’s screaming, he had dropped it so that he could run faster.
He was tempted to leave it where it lay, so disgusted with himself as he was.
Look what his idiotic scheme had almost cost him! And for what?
There was no way he could give her the same life she had in Gudvangen. No amount of traditions, luxuries, or lovemaking could compensate for the safety of a community. He had been selfish to think otherwise.
Sighing, he picked up the boar and slung it around his shoulders. It would be a waste not to use it, and Embla hated wastefulness. Although, he was certain the meat would stick in his throat when it came to eat it. It weighed heavy on his shoulders as he carried it to the cold store, but he knew it was the guilt and not the animal that pressed down on him.
If he had not spent so long searching for it, then Embla and Sten wouldn’t have been put in danger. He also should have warned Embla about the wolf, but had forgotten to do so, too wrapped up in his own emotions.
He washed and swept the deck, clearing away as much of the blood as possible, and covered it with fresh snow to block the scent. The last thing he needed was a pack of wolves coming to his door.
Once he was confident the area was clean, he made his way into the longhouse, stamping the snow off his boots as he passed the animals. Then, ducking into their chamber, he carefully removed his boots at the doorway and put on his fur slippers.
Sten was on his blanket in the corner, and he raised his head as Runar entered before nuzzling back down to sleep. Clean linen bandages were wrapped around his neck, and he looked clear-eyed, if a little sleepy.
Embla stood up from her chair as he entered and gave him a worried look. ‘Thankfully, the wounds are not deep. I have cleaned them thoroughly, and smeared them with honey and cobwebs to help bind them.’
Runar nodded, forcing himself to give her a reassuring smile. ‘He will be fine. He has been in a worse scrape with a bear.’
Embla gasped in horror, and then gave the dog an affectionate kiss on the top of his head. ‘He is such a good dog.’
Sten appeared to agree with the statement, because he twisted in his blanket, offering her his belly to scratch. She did as he asked, and then gave him a large bone from the stew to chew on.
‘I’m afraid it is very dry now,’ she said with a frown as she peeked inside the cauldron, and then filled a skillet with some flatbreads to cook over the fire.
Guilt twisted like a rusty knife in his gut. Turning away, he put aside his weapons, as well as his outer layers, all while avoiding her gaze.
