Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [6]
“Pika, what are you doing out here?” Askeladden grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. “Did you see which way the reindeer went?”
She blinked at him, thinking fast. The others clustered around, holding their torches high. A few even carried spears, as though they thought it would be better to wound or possibly kill the reindeer than let it get away.
“What are you talking about?” The lass looked around innocently. “Askel? Why did you come this way?” She pointed at the tracks in the snow leading away from where they stood. “I thought you were looking for a white reindeer?”
“We are, you silly girl!” Askel shouted. “Did you see it?”
“That wasn’t the white reindeer; it was a brown one. It got caught in the brambles and I set it free.” She pulled out of his grip. “I thought it might be one of ours, but it was wild and ran off.”
“A brown reindeer?” Askel sagged, dismay writ large across his face. “I saw it from the top of the hill! I could have sworn it was white.”
“It had snow caught in its fur,” she said.
“Here, Askel, you’ve been leading us a merry chase, and to no purpose,” one of the other men shouted, disgusted. The others were grumbling as well, and a few had started off in other directions, looking for signs of their quarry.
“Gah!” Askel ran his hands over his face in irritation. “We’ll never find anything in this dark, even with the moon,” he complained. He grunted and turned back to his sister. “You’d best be on home, pika. It’s not safe for you out here, you know that.” Then his eyes fixed on what she was wearing. They narrowed, and he sucked in his breath. “Where did you get that parka?” His own coat was a motley collection of old furs and bits of wool, more patches than whole cloth.
“It’s Hans Peter’s,” she said, backing away from the greedy look on his face. “And he said I could borrow it, just for today.”
“So that’s what he’s been hiding in that old chest,” her brother mused, a hard look on his face. “I wonder what else he brought back from his journeying.”
“Nothing for you,” the girl retorted, but Askeladden wasn’t listening to her. He was staring across the stream, a calculating look on his face.
“I’m going home,” she said, but her brother didn’t answer. She didn’t repeat herself, but simply turned and made her way back along the stream and down the lower slope of the mountain to her family’s little cottage.
“Well?” Her mother was standing by the fire, looking angry.
“I found a brown reindeer,” the girl said, taking off the beautiful parka and holding it out to Hans Peter.
“A brown reindeer does us little good,” her mother snorted. “We have brown reindeer in plenty in the barn, or didn’t you know?” She went back to the soup pot.
Hans Peter took the parka from the lass and knelt down to help pull off the boots. The girl tapped him on the shoulder and, when he looked up, jerked her head at the ladder to the loft.
He nodded, understanding. “Help me carry these back up, will you?” he said for their mother’s benefit.
She picked up the right boot, he took the left, and she followed him up the ladder. He did not open his sea chest in front of her, but sat on it, and motioned for her to put the boot down by the foot of his cot. She set it on the floor beside its mate with reverence, then sat on the end of the cot so that she could speak low and still be heard.
“Askel saw me in these things,” she said, feeling ashamed, as though she had betrayed a secret. “He wondered what else you had brought back from your journeys.”
“He was after me before, when I first got back,” Hans Peter said, shaking his head. “Ah, well, it looks as though I’m up for another round of pestering.” He saw her stricken face and smiled. “Don’t worry, my lass. Askel is persistent, but I’m stubborn. He won’t find anything I don’t want him to.” He rubbed his hands together briskly as though washing away the topic. “Now. I don’t suppose you caught sight of the white reindeer, did you?”
The lass had thought to tell him the same lie she had told