‘Heil, my lord and mistress! I hope you and the boys have been well this winter.’
She avoided Runar’s eyes, as he would probably find her sudden formality strange. It had always been this way between them; Embla was not recognised as Gertrud’s half-sister and never would be.
Thorin squinted at her. His eyesight had been growing worse over the years, but his hearing was still good.
‘Embla? Is that you?’
‘We thought you were dead...there was a blizzard and then a snowslide...’ Gertrud’s voice was so quiet, Embla had to take another step forward to be certain she heard her. ‘Itisyou...’ Gertrud whispered.
‘Yes, but I took shelter in a cave. Runar has been looking after me, so please don’t be angry about him entering the gate... He swore to bring me home safely, and he has—’
Gertrud let out a choked sob that shocked Embla so much she stopped speaking.
Covering her mouth with her hands, Gertrud dropped like a stone into her chair, trying and failing hopelessly to smother the sound of her weeping.
If Odin had strolled into the Hall carrying a troll under his arm and farted in Thorin’s face, Embla would still have been less surprised than she was at this moment. She had never seen her half-sister so emotional, and it was somehow even stranger that it was due to her own return.
Thorin smiled tenderly at his wife and patted her hand before looking back at Embla with a warm expression.
‘She has missed you, Embla,’ he said kindly, and Gertrud gave a tight nod as she grabbed a cloth from one of her nearby servants and dabbed at her eyes with it. Embla felt her own eyes prick with tears. Never would she have imagined Gertrud to react this way...
Not over her.
Thorin leaned forward, scratching his long white beard thoughtfully. ‘You cannot have been in the caves all of this time...’
‘I met Runar in the caves, and he took me to his cabin on the other side of the mountain. I have been living with him ever since, until the ice sheet blocking the cave thawed.’
Gasps and murmurs filled the hall, and Embla gave a disapproving look at the people she had once considered her friends turning on her in such a way.
Was it truly so shocking?
‘If it wasn’t for Runar, I would have died!’ she snapped, not liking the horrified and judgemental looks of her people.
The Sami had not treated her like this, and she glanced at Runar, worried about how he might feel about it. Not only because of the condemnation, but also because the room was becoming more tightly crowded with curious people, and she feared he would find it too suffocating.
Runar was staring at her, as if she were the anchor in his storm. Sweat beaded his brow and the lines of his face were hard. She reached for his hand and clasped it, wanting to help him in any way that she could.
His hand gripped hers tightly back, and she gave him a reassuring smile that he did not return.
‘We are relieved to have you back safely,’ said the Jarl carefully. ‘Runar, I shall ensure extra hay and supplies are delivered to your side of the mountain in the autumn, as a reward for keeping our beloved Embla safe.’
‘There is no need,’ said Runar gruffly. Thorin had aged considerably since the last time he had seen him. Years had gone by that could never be returned, and Runar was the cause of them.
All these years, Runar had justified his selfish stupidity with arguments of youthful love. But now he realised that his actions had stolen from him the last thread of kinship with his father’s family. Not only that, but he had betrayed a friend, and that was unforgivable. The air around him grew thick and hot, and he struggled to catch his breath.
The loud arrival of three boys distracted Runar from his thoughts. They rushed into the room like a pack of dogs shouting Embla’s name.
Her hand loosened in his grip, and although he wished he could hold it tightly and drag her away from the hot, suffocating Hall, he knew he could not. Deliberately he relaxed his fingers, and then like a golden fish she slipped from his hand and was swept away on a tide of love.
The boys enveloped her, each of them clinging to her and shouting their joy at her safe return. Carefully Runar set down Embla’s pack and the bag of gifts on the floor beside her. He took a moment to watch her, to soak in the pleasure of seeing her pretty face for the last time, glowing with delight at the welcome she had received.
How could she have doubted otherwise?
He glanced at Gertrud, who gave him a tight nod of thanks. It was no surprise that when he looked at her, the past affection he had once felt for her was completely dead. It had burned brightly for a moment and then sputtered out to nothing. But he understood her a little better now, through Embla.
Embla was all sweetness and light, while Gertrud was as tightly bound as a fisherman’s knot. She may have never shown her love for Embla openly, but it was still there all the same—unlike what she had felt for him, which had only been a distraction from her loneliness, he now realised.
She must have missed Embla and her family terribly, but was probably too proud to admit it.
