Chapter 19 #2
But then an extension to the side of the steading caught his eye. He swallowed with relief and strode towards it through the deep snow, lifting his snowshoe-clad feet high over the drifts.
The door opened easily, giving only a faint creak. The faint smell that met him was familiar – long-since cleared away manure and animals. The animal shed. There was no taint of death here.
‘I can sleep here, but first…’ He retraced his steps back into the steading.
With some effort, he closed and fastened all the shutters he’d opened earlier and then pulled both the inner and the outer doors firmly closed behind him.
In the morning, he’d set the fire and send them on their way to their Gods. He could do nothing else for them.
With the steading closed up once more, he made his way back to the barn and hauled the large doors closed behind him. He retrieved the heatstone from his backpack and built a small fire out of dried animal bedding stacked in the far corner, welcoming the heat and light.
He couldn’t help wondering why the farmer hadn’t done the same.
They could even have burned the steading.
Why not use this fuel to keep his family alive?
Maybe Swein had been too weak from hunger to make the trip outside during the terrible Long Night storms. Maybe there hadn’t been a choice left.
It appeared no animals had sheltered in the annex during the Long Night.
Had they been forced to slaughter them all before the last Sunset of the previous Long Day?
Whatever the reason, Erann was grateful for the small comfort the fire afforded him, after everything he’d seen.
In the glow from the flames, Erann absently ran his fingers over his father’s journal.
He flicked through the silky pages, gazing at the regular columns.
Nothing about them made sense. The numbers meant nothing.
With a tired sigh, he curled into a tight ball next to the fire and watched the small blue flames dance until finally sleep took him.
His dreams were filled with crying children.
He saw them clearly – running towards him, begging him for food.
The last child to die stared at him with anguished eyes and pleaded for help.
Erann tossed and turned, trying to escape from the dream, but it held on to him.
It repeated, over and over again. He could feel tears streaking his face and scrubbed at them in a half-waking daze.
He wanted to wake up but couldn’t escape the cloying dream. Then suddenly, a sound broke through.
The harsh baying of a wolf pack cut over the fiercely howling wind of the blizzard, far too close for comfort. They must have caught the scent of the dead bodies on the wind.
Erann lay gasping. Any relief he felt from escaping his dream was replaced by fear as he listened.
‘At least I closed and bolted both doors,’ he said to himself. ‘But is it enough?’
He sat upright, reaching for his backpack and scrambled to his feet. Quickly, he stamped out the fire. He didn’t want the wolves to smell someone who was still alive.
Earlier, he’d noticed a small loft space in the annex. He fumbled around in the faint light from the dying fire until he found the ladder and hauled himself up, dragging the ladder up after him once he’d reached the top.
‘I hope they can’t get in,’ he mumbled to himself, just to hear something that wasn’t the howling wolves or the shrieking wind. ‘I wish I’d burned the bloody steading. Anything would be better than sitting up here, freezing on this bloody wooden shelf, waiting for the wolves to go away.’
Suddenly, the wolves stopped howling.
Even above the shrieking wind, Erann could hear the soft crunch of their paws in the snow as they circled the annex.
Had they caught his scent after all?
He’d no idea how far into the night it was, or how long it would be before dawn broke. He didn’t think he’d been asleep long, but he couldn’t be sure. He glanced upwards, wishing he could see the sky to track the planets on their nightly journeys.
He sat huddled, alone, shivering and cold, listening to sharp nips and low growls from the wolves, wondering if daybreak would ever come. His teeth were clamped together to stop any sound escaping.
Erann had almost managed to convince himself they weren’t going to attack when he heard it.
Scratching at the walls.
It echoed through the empty shed, setting the hairs on his neck on edge. He had no weapon with him and now the wolves had found themselves a feast.
What would he do if they got in? He couldn’t run for it – there was nowhere to go, and anyway, they’d be on him the moment he left the safety of the annex. Even if he had a weapon, what good would it do against a pack of starving wolves?
His heart hammered faster and faster. His breath came in uneven gasps.
He couldn’t fail now, not when he’d come so far. He had to make it to Rankil’s. He had to help his mother.
Lost in his panic, he didn’t realise the scratching had stopped, nor did he hear the soft shuffle of the wolves’ paws fading away. It was only when he’d finally managed to still his breathing that he realised how utterly quiet the night had become. Even the shrieking wind had died away.
A shaky sob escaped as relief washed through him. He made himself comfortable against the rough wall and sank almost immediately into a deep and disturbed sleep.