Chapter 22
ERANN
Erann left the cave as soon as there was enough light to guide him.
Arrow lifted her head as he crept outside, but settled herself across Sereh’s sleeping form.
Fog hung close to the glacier’s surface, but this time it was definitely fog, not smoke.
He felt a twinge of guilt, but he needed to get to Rankil’s and while Sereh hadn’t said as much, he suspected she had no desire to return to Rankil’s steading.
He felt better if he didn’t know too much.
He needed the man’s help. He could hardly lie to his face, even though he knew Rankil wouldn’t feel the same compulsion.
He walked all day, stopping only when necessity dictated, relieved to finally step free from the glacier’s treacherous surface as darkness began to fall.
As much as he wished to press on, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake two nights in a row.
He found a tiny cave in the mountainside closest to him.
It was so small he could either keep his head or his feet out of the wind, but never both at the same time.
It was an uncomfortable and cold night as a storm blew up and howled in and out of every available hole in the cave.
He’d unintentionally left his backpack with Sereh, and his belly grumbled loudly.
He was pleased when it was light enough to get moving again.
The final leg of the journey took him less time than he thought.
He was much closer than he realised last night.
Ahead, the squat steading grew closer and closer, and with a grimace and a sigh of relief, he stamped to the door through the heavy snow, noticing as he did that no path had yet been cleared.
It would appear no one within Rankil’s steading was as keen to escape its confines as he would be.
But then, he frowned, they no doubt had more food supplies than anyone else, and there’d been more snow last night so perhaps any path had been covered.
Erann banged on the door and waited. When there was no reply, he banged again. Snow shook loose with each blow, dropping to the ground in soft clumps, and he glanced up, eyeing the heavy build-up on the roof. He didn’t want it coming down on top of him. Still, no one answered.
His breath fogged thickly in the air as he hammered harder, both fists striking the wood.
‘Hello!’ he shouted. ‘Hello! Let me in!’ Sereh hadn’t suggested the people from the steading had perished during the Long Night. ‘Wake up, you damn fools,’ he huffed, angry that his journey had been delayed and now he was being delayed again.
‘Hello!’ he roared again. This time he heard a faint shuffling behind the heavy wooden door. It creaked slowly open, and a bright light was thrust into his face, which Erann thought was unnecessary. It was daylight outside. He blinked hard, spots dancing in his eyes.
‘Welcome, traveller,’ a rough voice said.
‘I’m Erann Ramonsson. I need to speak with my sister.
’ The door opened wider, and without further words, he was waved into the narrow tunnel.
Even here, he was hit by the stench of the inner rooms, strong enough to overpower even the stink of the nearby latrines.
Erann forced his face to stay neutral. It was a disgusting blend of animal dung, human sweat and overcooked food.
If he’d been at his home, they’d have already begun cleaning the steading after the Long Night. It seemed Rankil hadn’t seen fit to order the same. Surely, his sister should have done so?
Only once they were in the tunnel was the light lowered.
‘Anya,’ Erann exhaled with relief. ‘Anya, it’s so good to see you. I’m desperate. I’ve come because I need your help. It’s my mother. Is there any way Rankil would let you come with me? Just for a few days, to my uncle’s steading. Please.’
Standing in front of her, Erann realised how much he needed her to say yes.
‘Erann,’ Anya said warmly, ‘you’re a sight for sore eyes. I’ve missed you. Look at you – you’ve grown. You’re a strong – and dare I say it – handsome young man these days.’
Erann blushed at her teasing tone. He wasn’t used to thinking about how he looked.
He saw only his mother, his brother, and, until the last Long Night, his sister.
None of them were likely to comment on whether he was handsome or not.
He didn’t know what to say, and Anya beamed at his obvious discomfort.
‘As to your request,’ she went on, her expression shifting.
‘I’m unsure. Your mother must be very ill for you to come all this way.
I’ll have to speak to your sister. I know you two fell out, but she’s our best chance.
Rankil dotes on her – and there’s much more at stake than you realise.
Now come. I’ll announce you to the jarl. ’
Erann winced at his father’s title being used for Rankil, but Anya squeezed his arm comfortingly.
‘We’ll see what can be done.’ She bustled ahead of him, looking back approvingly. ‘You look so well despite the awful Long Night, I’m pleased.’
They reached the inner door to the steading. Erann braced himself for the smell to get worse, wishing he had something to block his nose. Anya noticed.
‘You’ll get used to it,’ she said, ‘though I pity you if you have to stay so long, you do. Rankil’s not yet ready to clean the place.
He’s sulking – lost the young woman who used to read to him.
Stupid old fool. He forced her to go outside on the first day of the Long Day, even after a Long Night like the one we’ve just had.
It was far too risky to do such a thing. But then, he ever was a fool.’
Anya’s voice dropped to a whisper, although there was no one to hear.
Erann had barely time to process her words before the full force of the stench hit him.
His face twisted before he could stop it.
His thoughts raced, trying to make sense of what Anya had said – all the while reminding himself to behave himself as a guest in the steading of the man who was both his brother by marriage… and his sworn enemy.
The steading was smaller than Erann’s own, but areas had been curtained off to create separate spaces. Anya guided him to one of them in the main common room. The heavy curtain was festooned with dust and damp. Erann stepped through gingerly, hoping he wouldn’t touch it with his clothing.
The room was filled with men stretched out on benches running along the walls.
Erann’s family had long since stopped using such benches.
They were too uncomfortable, too prone to catch drips from the low-hanging roof.
The whole place smelled dank and stale. Erann had to work to keep his expression neutral.
How could his sister prefer this slovenly dwelling to home?
‘Sit here,’ Anya bade him, and left him to go in search of Rankil.
Erann stared about the room, his discomfort growing.
He couldn’t stop himself comparing Rankil’s steading to the one his father ran.
The one he ran now. The place was falling apart.
Water leaked through the turf roof; the floor was rough and uneven, without the usual raised wooden boards. No jarl should live like this.
He wondered again how his sister could tolerate it.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Aras slipped in through the heavy curtain.
He barely recognised her. She’d always been slim, but now she looked gaunt, almost fragile.
But she carried herself with care. She was gorgeously attired in a rich, thick grey wolf’s pelt that perched on her shoulders.
Her skirts were layered in a matching fur.
She might well look awful to his eyes, but she was doing it with a style he was sure Rankil appreciated.
Her beautiful, long auburn hair was tied back in intricate rings, though it only made her face look thinner.
She glanced nervously over her shoulder. She came straight to him, and Erann realised Anya must have told Aras of his arrival before going to Rankil. It would give them a few precious moments to talk, although he was surprised. Their last words before her marriage hadn’t been kind.
‘Erann, my brother, it’s so good to see you, although very unexpected. You said you would never step foot in this steading,’ she said loudly enough for the others to hear. But immediately, she dropped her voice and its haughty tone. ‘Is it true? Is Mother really so ill?’
Erann was taken aback. He’d expected all sorts of reactions from Aras, but concern for their mother wasn’t one of them.
‘Yes.’ He spoke gently and urgently. ‘She’s lost the will to live, with Father not returning, and… and everything else.’
He trailed off, unsure why he sought to protect Aras from the truth. But the wince on her face told him she understood his meaning well enough.
She leaned closer, keeping her voice low, her eyes sliding to where the other men still lounged around. She didn’t want them to hear. ‘I’ll make him send Anya. I’ll come as well. Will you escort me home, Erann?’ Her tone was pleading.
‘Mother’s not at home – I took her to Aunt and Uncle’s,’ he said. ‘Do you think Rankil will let you go that far?’
In answer, she squeezed his arm, just as Anya had earlier.
‘I’ll make him,’ she said firmly. An agonised look passed over her thin face. ‘Erann, please understand, I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want Mother to become ill.’
‘It’s not all your fault, Aras,’ Erann said quickly. ‘Losing Father… the idea that he must be dead… That’s what broke her. Everything else has just made it worse. I’m sure seeing you will help her.’
Tears shimmered in Aras’s deep blue eyes, and in that moment, he understood how much all of this was costing her. She wasn’t doing this for herself – she was doing it for all of them.
His heart went out to her. He reached up and brushed the tears from her cheeks.
She remained loyal. She was still brave. Stubborn, perhaps. Foolish, maybe. But she cared deeply. She hadn’t forgotten them. And being here with Rankil must be intolerable.