Page 26
Story: Snow Bound
He brought her more lanterns, and soon the room was brighter than she had thought possible. Magni retreated to stand at the door.
“You’re guarding me, aren’t you?” she said at last. “You’re always watching.”
Something in his eyes flickered, and he nodded slightly.
She sighed. It wasn’t pleasant to be watched all the time, but she supposed he wasn’t doing it for his own amusement. He must have been given the job by the queen.
She stood and hauled one of the comfortable chairs over to him. “Are you allowed to sit while you watch me? It makes me feel guilty that you’re standing there all day long just watching.” Then she frowned. “Don’t you get hungry? I’ve never seen you eat.”
He blinked. Then he shrugged one shoulder.
Gytha wasn’t sure exactly what that meant.
When he brought her lunch, she offered him one of the puffy, meat-stuffed pastries. He shook his head, but there was a sudden gleam in his eye.
“Don’t you want it?” she asked.
His sharp features tensed just a little, and he gave a faint, reluctant nod.
“Are you not allowed to have it?”
He twitched his head sideways.
Gytha frowned. “Well, I don’t want to get you in trouble,” she said at last. “But you may have it if you want. It’s your decision.”
His stony eyes flicked up to meet hers, and perhaps they were a little softer than before.
“Anyway, there’s no need for you to stand all day. I’m not going anywhere. Sit down if you want.”
He did sit, one lean leg crossed over the other and his arms folded across his chest.
Alexander stood and loomed over him, and he shrank back into the chair, his eyes wide. Then the bear turned away and flung himself to the floor beside Gytha’s chair. He sighed heavily.
“What’s gotten into you?” Gytha frowned at him and then knelt before him. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” She smiled teasingly and ran her hands over the bear’s huge head until he lifted it and stared at her. She scratched under his chin and behind his rounded ear.
She bent closer and murmured, “I’m doing this for you, you know. Because you were kind to my family and me. Because you saved them, all of us, from starvation and fever and death.”
The white fur beneath her fingers was so thick and warm! She hesitated and then said, “My nighttime visitor is cold. May I have some of your fur to make night clothes for him?”
His dark eyes held hers, and she rubbed softly down hisgreat muzzle. The scratch her father had given him had become a deep red scar from the inside corner of his eye down almost to his black nose. She ran a finger down his muzzle next to it, not touching the tender red skin in case it hurt, and then, impulsively, kissed him on the top of the head. “Thank you.”
She began combing Alexander’s fur. It was so thick that it took only a few minutes for her to produce an enormous pile of fluff. It wasn’t enough for her plan but it was enough for a start.
The carding brush was a great help, but she still picked through the fibers to separate the long outer coat strands from the shorter, softer strands from the undercoat. She set the outer coat aside and considered the soft fur that remained. These fibers would make a much softer, warmer fabric than the outer coat would.
She twisted the fibers between her fingers and threaded it through the top of the spindle. The spinning motion was rhythmic and soothing, and she had produced a great length of fine white thread before too long. She wound it into a ball and hesitated. A fine, thin fabric would be more comfortable, but a thicker fabric would be warmer. She spun this fine thread into a two-ply yarn. It was still quite fine and soft.
In the basket with all the embroidery supplies she found knitting needles, so she set to work. She started with one leg of the trousers, and by the time she had used half the ball of yarn, her fingers were tired and her eyes were bleary.
When she looked up, Magni had put a tray on the nearby table.
“Oh, thank you.” She stretched her arms and shoulders and felt a rush of dizziness. Her fever had been gone for days, but the weakness would take longer to vanish.
She ate slowly, savoring the rich flavors. Again, she offered a piece to Alexander and this time, at her encouragement,he took it delicately from her fingertips. His huge teeth did not even touch her fingers.
She reminded herself that he was not, in fact, an extremely large, gentle dog, but abear. A wild bear, with his own thoughts and plans, even if he couldn’t speak them now. But it was difficult to imagine him as anything other than gentle and patient. He endured her combing, her questions, and the boredom of their confinement with the mute patience of an animal.
But as she sipped her tea sleepily, she thought that she had never heard of an animal who could talk before. Not really. There were children’s stories, of course, but nothing anyone had taken seriously. What sort of magic could give such an intelligent mind to an animal, and what did it mean?
Table of Contents
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- Page 26 (Reading here)
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