Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [18]
“My lord isbjørn,” the lass said, breaking into the silence. “It is all well and good that I shall live in a palace for a year, but what of my family? If you have such wealth, can you not give a little to them?”
“Daughter.” Jarl’s voice was anguished. “No.”
“Little sister, please,” said Hans Peter desperately. “Do not do this.” He turned to the bear. “Why have you come here? Did she send you?”
The bear rocked back and forth, looking at each member of the family in turn. “This Askeladden? He hunts me?”
“Yes.”
“Lucky third brother?” The bear’s words had an edge to them.
“I suppose,” the lass said, cautious. “But so far he hasn’t really done anything of use.” She flicked a glance at her mother to see if this would upset her, but Frida continued to stare out the door.
The bear nodded. “Askel will find bear. Another bear. Fame and wealth for your family.” He made a noise like a reindeer lowing. “Will you come?”
The lass hesitated, but only a moment. There was a singing in her blood, and her heart pounded as though it would leap out of her chest. “Askel will find another bear,” she reported. “He will be famous, and you all will be wealthy.”
“It’s not worth it,” Hans Peter said.
“No, it is not,” Jarl agreed.
“You come?” The bear’s eyes were anxious. “All well. You safe. Family wealthy. You come?”
“Let me get my things,” she said.
Hans Peter made a strangled noise, and put out one hand to her.
The lass turned and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m going. I think I have to go. But I’ll be back, and you needn’t worry about me.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.
He closed his eyes and hugged her tight. The firelight made a halo out of his silvered hair, and tears ran down his cheeks. “I’ll get my white parka and boots; you’ll need them.”
“This is madness,” Jarl half whispered, sinking down onto a chair. “Madness.”
“No, Papa,” the lass said, going over and putting her arm around her father’s shoulders. “No, it’s the right thing to do. I feel it deep in my heart.”
He reached up and squeezed the hand that lay on his shoulder. His fingers were icy cold. “Oh, you poor wisp of a girl. If anyone could come out the better for an adventure like this, it would be you.”
Rollo trotted forward and leaned against the girl’s legs. “I shall protect you,” he said, giving the bear a defiant look.
The lass gave a little, nervous laugh. “And I shall have Rollo to protect me,” she told her father.
“No,” the bear said. “No wolf.”
The lass narrowed her eyes at him, her free hand dropping down to rest on Rollo’s head. “Yes, wolf. If Rollo doesn’t come, then I’m not going.”
The bear swayed back and forth, growling low in its throat. It was not threatening, more thoughtful. Then he heaved a huge sigh. “Wolf come,” he agreed heavily.
And so she went to pack her meager belongings. A comb. A carving of a reindeer Hans Peter had made. The few tattered clothes she had inherited from her sisters. And that was all. She tied it up in her shawl and pulled on a pair of breeches that had once belonged to Torst and then Einar, before becoming so ragged around the hems that several inches had been cut off. She put on both her wool sweaters and got her mittens.
Hans Peter wrapped her in his parka, putting the white boots once more over her own worn brown ones. Her father handed her a napkin in which he had wrapped some lefse and cheese. Her brother put everything into the leather knapsack he had taken on his sea voyage, and she strapped it to her back. The lass kissed her brother and father both and then her mother, who merely nodded at her in farewell.
“Get on my back,” the isbjørn instructed.
Hans Peter lifted her onto the bear’s broad back without needing to be asked.
With Rollo hard on his heels, the isbjørn took off into the blizzard as though he had wings. The lass held tight to his soft white fur, and prayed.
Chapter 8
Just when the lass had settled in to the strange