With a resolute mind she pushed forward through the snow. It was a much thinner crust now, with patches of muddy green peeking through occasionally. They had stayed the night in the cave before heading down to Gudvangen. She had found it strange to return there, as if they were reliving the past. Runar had pleasured her tenderly and thoroughly as if he were hoping to change her mind by filling the cave with her ecstatic cries.
As they walked down the mountain to the rolling valley below, Runar carried her bundle of clothes and gifts for the boys. He had left most of his supplies back in the cave. It was an unwelcome reminder that only one of them might return, and that Runar had no intention of staying in Gudvangen for long...even if it were allowed, which it was not.
No one stood at the gates, and she stared at the entrance in confusion before mumbling, ‘They must be feasting.’
‘Why would they be feasting?’
‘A marriage or birth perhaps? I cannot think of any other reason. Usually, there is a guard here.’
Runar looked around expectantly, but saw no one. ‘I do not like it... I will come in with you.’
‘But...’
He shook his head firmly, a hard look in his eyes that she had never seen before. ‘No arguing, Embla. I will see you safely home, or we both shall leave. I gave you my word, and even if it angers Thorin, I will bear it gladly.’
She gave a weak nod, and prayed silently to the gods that he would not be punished for walking within the settlement’s walls. Surely, Jarl Thorin would understand when she explained how much Runar had done for her. He was not an unreasonable man...although Runar had committed a terrible crime in coveting his wife. In fact, Thorin had already been incredibly lenient in his dealings with him, so perhaps he would be again.
She twisted her hands in the edges of her fur cloak as they made their way through the settlement. It was beginning to grow dark, and the thralls and labourers squinted at them from doorways with suspicion. Embla waved at them, but they turned away, as if unsettled by her greeting.
‘Do they not recognise me?’ she snorted with amusement. ‘I have only been gone one season!’
Runar looked at her and smiled. ‘You look like a baby bear all wrapped up in your furs.’
One of the warriors approached them as they walked towards the doors of the Jarl’s Hall.
‘Halt! What are you doing within our walls, Runar? If you have come to trade, you must wait outside!’
Runar gave the man a hard look. ‘There was no one at your gate. Why is that?’
The young warrior swallowed nervously, his hand drifting to the hilt of his sword. ‘There should have been...maybe they stepped away for a moment.’ He looked behind them, as if hoping the missing guard would come hurrying after them.
‘Was it Dagfinn? You should know better than to leavehimalone at the gate. He will be asleep in a corner somewhere,’ Embla said brightly. When the man frowned at her in confusion, she exclaimed, ‘Ottar, surely you recognise me!’
Pulling off her hat, she swept her hair back, realising how rarely people saw her with her hair uncovered. She grinned up at the warrior; he had been the same man she had thought was flirting with her at the last feast, and so she was certain he would remember her...even if it was only because he thought her dull. She had to admit it was thrilling to walk in beside Runar.
Not such a bore now, am I?
Ottar’s mouth dropped open when he finally recognised her, and he grabbed both her arms with a shout of surprise.
‘Embla! Praise Odin, youarealive!’
‘As you can see,’ grumbled Runar, pushing the man back a step with one light touch of his palm. ‘No need to grab at her.’
Sten seemed to agree with Runar, because he bared his teeth in a growl of warning and Ottar flinched, dropping his hands immediately.
‘Ottar! What is it? Who has entered my gates?’ The authoritative voice from inside the Hall could only belong to the Jarl.
Runar took her gently by the elbow and pressed past Ottar to walk into the Hall.
Thorin and Gertrud were sitting at the Jarl’s table on a platform at the back of the chamber. Fire burned in a long trough down the centre of the room, lighting up the brightly painted carvings and tapestries that covered the walls and ceiling posts.
Embla had always thought it a magnificent hall, but now she longed for the cosiness and familiarity of Runar’s cabin; this room seemed too large and draughty to her now. Her eyes swept down the high table, but she couldn’t see the boys.
Gertrud gasped and leaped to her feet when she saw Embla, but she didn’t say anything more, only stared at her with a stunned expression.
Thorin’s eyes hardened to shards of blue ice when he saw Runar. It was as if he had not noticed Embla yet, because he said coldly, ‘You dare to enter my Hall uninvited?’
Hoping to resolve the issue of Runar’s presence quickly, Embla stepped forward.
