Page 8

As Byrgir opened the door to leave, I glimpsed the large, dark shadow of a dog standing in the snow, just outside the door in the fading light. It was bigger than any dog I had seen before, and it stared through the doorway with an acute intensity in its yellow eyes.

“Byrgir’s good with animals,” Eilith said as she hung a large pot of water over the flames in the hearth. Then she set about pulling bread, cheese, and dried meat from shelves and cupboards. “And I’ve taught him some basics of wound care and healing. Your horse is in good hands.”

I nodded, unable to make the thoughts in my head come out as cohesive words.

Eilith set a plate of food down next to me and put more wood in the fireplace, before tugging on her cloak and retrieving the pot of water from the hearth.

“Eat, Halja. Your body won’t heal without the energy to do it. I’ll go help Byrgir with your horse.”

“Anam,” I croaked.

She nodded, and swept out into the snow and fading light of twilight.

I ate all I could and felt the warmth of the hot tea radiate outward from my center; the stove warmed me from the outside.

As I thawed, the numbing cold turned to agony.

My frozen hands and feet screamed and throbbed with the familiar, needle sharp pain of nerves that had been too cold for too long as they warmed.

My head swam and the thick blankets seemed to pull me down into them.

I awoke to the door swinging open. Eilith and Byrgir came in, followed by the huge wolf-like dog. Large snowflakes blew past the doorway, illuminated against in the dark exterior by the glow of the lamps inside. I sat up, my body stiff and achy.

Eilith’s dog approached me, walking around the small table near the fireplace while keeping its yellow eyes fixed on me intently.

It stood taller than the table at shoulder height, and looked more wolf than dog.

I reached out my hand and it sniffed it, before snuffling its nose around in my blankets briefly.

It then flopped in front of the fireplace, apparently satisfied with the results of its investigation.

Byrgir hung his snow-covered coat, hat, and mittens on a wooden rack suspended from the ceiling over the fireplace. Eilith filled a large bowl of water and they both washed their blood-stained hands.

“I think he will be alright,” Eilith said as she dried her hands and yet again began gathering food in the tiny kitchen space on the far side of the fireplace.

“The wound is in a very difficult place to wrap, but if he can keep the bandages on and let us tend to him, he should heal.” She was quiet for a moment as she cut slices of cheese.

“There’s something different about his wounds, something not quite right.

They’re turning black, as if they’re infected, but it would be far too early for a normal infection to be spreading like this if he was just injured today. Did it cut you too?”

“No,” I answered. “I don’t think so, at least. Thank you, both, for taking care of him.

I can’t afford another horse and he’s...

” I hesitated again, feeling foolish for being so attached to a horse, especially so quickly.

I feared their judgments would be the same as my father’s.

Maybe I was ridiculous for caring. “He saved my life,” I finished, looking down.

“He was guarding you when I found you.” Byrgir’s deep voice was quiet as he took a bowl of bread, cheese, and dried apples from Eilith. “He was in rough shape himself, but he tried to bite me when I went to pick you up.”

I smiled and felt tears well in my eyes. I looked down again and adjusted my blankets so they wouldn’t see them.

“Thank you, Byrgir. We’d both be dead if you hadn’t come along.”

“I’m just happy I picked today to restock Eilith’s firewood,” he smiled, and the earthy, sweet smell of tobacco drifted to me as he lit a pipe.

After they had eaten, Byrgir and Eilith moved the table back against the far wall of shelves so they could pile sheepskins on the floor in front of the fireplace for Byrgir.

The wolfdog sprawled out against him. I drew the curtain around my little bed in the alcove, and my headache soon dragged me under again.

I slept much later into the day than usual.

I finally stumbled out into the snow to find somewhere to pee as there was no indoor plumbing in the small cottage, just a large tub and sink in the washroom in the back.

It was still snowing, but much more lightly than it had been last night; the sounds of the steading were muffled under its blanket.

I found the outhouse, then made my way to the small stable.

Anam was lying on his side in clean straw, his wound covered beneath a layer of clean linen.

A tightness cinched inside my chest at the sight of him injured and exhausted on the floor.

I slipped into the stall and sat with him a while, cradling his big head in my lap and stroking his silky cheeks and ears.

He closed his eyes, sighing heavy breaths.

Eventually, the cold and my rumbling stomach motivated me to venture back inside, and I left Anam to rest. In the cottage, Eilith packed some salves and food for Byrgir as he readied his mare for the journey home.

We walked to the road with him where Eilith gave him a hug goodbye.

She looked particularly small in his bearlike embrace.

“Come back any time, as always. And let me know if Ruby needs more of that tincture. I’ll make her another batch.”

“I will,” he said. “Thank you for the salve, I always go through it faster than I think I will.” Byrgir turned to me. “Feel better, Halja. I hope it’s a speedy recovery for you both.”

“I really can’t thank you enough.” I said, feeling out of place watching the parting ritual of two people who knew each other well. “I owe you a huge debt.”

“Nah,” Byrgir said, swinging into the saddle. “Anybody would have done that. You owe me nothing.”

I tried to respond but found that I couldn’t make the words come out, so I just nodded, feeling like an idiot.

Snow swirled around Byrgir and his black Friesian as they disappeared down the road into the forest.