Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow - Jessica Day George [64]
“This is Hjartán,” the first moster said, stroking the black horse’s nose.
The horse’s name took the lass aback. At first it sounded like an endearment, but then the crone crooned to the horse in the older tongue of the North for a moment, and the lass realized what the name meant. In the old tongue, it meant “heartless.”
The moster saw the lass’s expression and cackled. “I was a wee bit bitter over my fate when he was given to me,” she said. “Ride him as far as he can go, then flick his left ear and send him home.”
“Then ride my Falskur,” the second moster said, slapping the gray horse on the shoulder.
“Falskur?” Another strange name.
“Aye.” The old woman grinned. “The horse is not faithless, but it was faithlessness that brought me here.
“Ride him until he tires, for he is stronger and faster than his brother Hjartán. When he begins to slow, flick his right ear and send him home.”
“And then you will mount my dear Vongóður,” the Eldest said.
“Hopeful?” The name was startling, considering what the other crones had named their horses.
“We must always have hope, child,” the ancient princess said. “Even when it seems that there is none in sight.”
Fighting back another despairing sigh for which she was too young, the lass stepped up on a stump and then mounted Hjartán. She had never ridden a horse before, but Hjartán stood very still despite her scrambling. He was not as broad as her isbjørn, and his coat was smooth, but his mane was thick and she thought she would be able to hold to that well enough. She settled her pack on her back as best she could, made sure that Rollo was on his feet and ready to follow, and then smiled at the three old women.
“Thank you, dear mosters,” she said.
They smiled back, and for a moment, a ghost of beauties lost passed over their faces.
“May the old gods protect you, child,” the Eldest said. “When you have reached our neighbor, tickle Vongóður under the chin and he’ll find his way back.”
The first moster patted the lass’s knee and then brought her hand down with a crack on the horse’s rump. “Go!”
Squealing, Hjartán shot out of the clearing, heading north and east. Rollo and the other two horses followed hard behind. The lass clung to Hjartán’s mane and prayed that a branch wouldn’t whip her in the face. She might be blinded—with a thrill of terror, she wondered if that was how the ancient princess had lost her sight. She crouched low on the horse’s neck, hiding her face in her white hood again. Her muscles soon cramped and locked into place. After some hours, she tried to stop Hjartán so that they might all rest, but he would not be halted. She thought of leaping off, but the snow looked hard and icy, so she resigned herself to hanging on.
To pass the time, she thought of her bear, who was also a prince, and their time together discussing plays and poetry and stories about the lass’s childhood. She remembered telling him about finding the white reindeer, which only Hans Peter knew about, and how the isbjørn had not been all that surprised at the tale.
Thinking of the white reindeer made her think of her name.
The lass, who possessed in her heart the most beautiful name ever heard, firmed her resolve. She would find the castle east of the sun and west of the moon. She would atone for her faithlessness and make things right with the prince. She would find Tova, and bring her to Hans Peter so that they could be happy. Surely someone gifted by the white reindeer, who had befriended fauns and isbjørner and who had traveled so far, would succeed.
Surely she would.
She whispered her name into the wind. Hjartán surged through the trees, his brothers just behind. With a yip, Rollo sped up to match the stallion’s pace. The lass hung on, and the miles flew by.
Chapter 25
Wind does not need translation. It speaks the language of men, of animals and birds, of rocks and trees and earth and sky and water. It does not eat or sleep, or take shelter from the weather. It is the weather.
And it lives.
The east wind lives in a forest dark with trees. The trees do not