Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [25]
“I know, but let me enjoy it for just one night,” she said.
“All right, but be careful.” And then he went back to gorging himself.
“Just one night,” the lass murmured. “Then I shall get to the bottom of this enchantment. Of all these enchantments.”
Chapter 10
The lass went down to the entrance hall as soon as she finished breakfast the next morning. With Rollo by her side, she started at the pillar nearest the golden front doors.
“Man. Reindeer. Ship. Something. Ship. Something. Man.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Rollo pointed out. “None of them do.”
“I’m aware of that, Rollo.” The lass put her hands on her hips and sighed. “The trouble is, Hans Peter never bothered to carve things like ‘run’ or ‘sail’ or ‘hunt.’ He only carved things like ‘reindeer’ and ‘man’ and ‘ship.’ So I know that there’s a man and a reindeer, and they have a ship, but I don’t know what they’re doing.” She rested her forehead against the smooth ice. She’d been deciphering the carvings for hours. “Stupid!”
“Are you well, my lady?”
The lass jumped and spun around. Erasmus was standing behind her with a strange look on his face.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine, thank you. I just—I was—” She gestured at the pillar.
“You were just what, my lady?” There was a wary look in the faun’s eyes.
It occurred to the lass that she barely knew this strange creature. He had seemed sad, and pitiable, last night when he spoke of his years inside the ice palace. But that might be an act. Could she trust him?
She decided to be wary. “I got lost,” she lied. “I was . . . looking for the isbjørn.”
Erasmus blinked as though not certain he could believe her, and the lass gave him a wide, innocent smile. The wary look left the faun’s eyes. “My lord sent me to fetch you for luncheon,” he said. “If you will follow me?”
The lass followed him out of the entrance hall and down a wide corridor. All along the corridor were niches with pedestals in them. On one pedestal sat a straw basket. The next held a pair of knitting needles with a half-finished mitten on one needle, the ball of yarn neatly placed beside it.
“Erasmus?”
“My lady?”
“Why are there balls of yarn and baskets and old rag dolls on display?”
The wary look came back to the faun’s face. “I couldn’t say, my lady.”
The isbjørn was waiting for them in a long, narrow room that was dominated by a long, narrow table. The lass counted two dozen chairs, though a golden plate and gleaming silver were set at only one place. The isbjørn was hunkered down near that chair, waiting for her.
Feeling a cold thrill down her spine, the lass sat in the place that had been set for her. It unnerved her to see the huge bear sitting there so calmly. As kind as he seemed, she could not forget that he was still an animal, a predator large enough to eat her and Rollo both.
“Did you sleep well?” The rumbling voice sounded genuinely interested.
“Er, yes, thank you.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes.”
Erasmus took several platters covered with silver domes from a sideboard and laid them in an arc around the lass’s plate. One by one he lifted the covers to reveal delicately seasoned fish, roasted chicken, soft white bread rolls, honeyed fruit, and pickled vegetables. She had never seen most of the things before her, and the things she could identify (fish, chicken, potatoes) she had never seen cooked that way. Her mouth watered and her stomach gave a lurch and a growl.
With a rumbling laugh, the isbjørn told her to eat.
“But I had breakfast only a few hours ago. And that was so much . . . fruit and sweet rolls and porridge . . .” She trailed off. “I’ve never seen so much food in my life.”
The bear blinked at her. “But . . . is it so bad? Where you live?”
“The winter has lasted a long time,” the lass said, not wanting to give the impression that Jarl was a bad provider. “No one has very much. But my family doesn’t starve.”
Blinking again, the bear said, “Of course not.”
“Aren