Ailia woke up and was instantly gripped by the pain she felt in her foot. Feeling exceedingly exhausted, she wasn’t able to say anything, but managed to moan quietly. When she opened her eyes, she saw a lively fire burning close to her and she felt the heat of the flames on her face. White polar bear furs and wool blankets covered her body and she felt no coldness even though she was still outside and still on the glaciers, as far as she could tell.
The young man she recognized as her rescuer approached her. At first she became afraid. He was a stranger and could harm her, especially since they were alone. However, when she looked at him, there seemed to be something both in his physical appearance and the way he moved and spoke that was so familiar, so comfortable, and soothing.
“I have never seen anyone take on the furious seven before,” he said lightheartedly. Brown, heavy fur covered his blue wool overcoat. His fur hat hid what she thought looked like dark-brown hair.
“The who?” she mumbled, still not quite certain she could trust this stranger.
“The wolves. A little south of here they are known as the furious seven. They have been responsible for many lost sheep lately.”
“I was close to beating them and if you had not interrupted me, I would have had them.” She tried to smile, but noticed that even that hurt.
The stranger smiled and let out a chuckle. “I believe you!” Shaking his head, he laughed again, his deep voice vibrating through Ailia’s chest. “Your leg will be healed in a few weeks. You had several deep puncture wounds and lacerations. I sewed them up while you were out. You also had an infection around your ankle. Have you been…chained?”
Ailia thought it a strange question. “No.” I can’t remember.
“You are lucky the wolves did not break any bones in your legs or arms with their tough jaws,” he said more seriously, stirring a pot on the fire. “I put an herbal compress on your foot and on a few of the smaller wounds on your face. You also had some sores on your hands from fighting off the wolves and I put some restorative ointment on them.”
He had certainly gone to great lengths to help her, and she doubted he would have, had his intentions been malicious. Still, she felt the need to keep her guard up. “Are you a healer?” she asked, looking straight into his blue eyes for the first time. There, she saw peace and kindness, and…immense suffering. How was she able to see all that without even knowing him? Yet, she could read his eyes like an open scroll. And not only that, her soul soared at the sound of his deep voice and she felt wholly and unreservedly drawn to him as if by a dynamic, living force—a force that was eternal, yet just beginning to flourish.
“I am,” he said. “My name is Soren.” He continued to stir the liquid and then he lifted the ladle and smelled the brew.
She thought the ladle looked like it was hundreds of years old. It was crooked and stained from years of use. “I’m Ailia.” She sat up.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said.
“Were you on your way to help someone?” she asked cautiously, not wanting to impose too much on his privacy.
“Yes,” he said without offering any more information about where he was going.
She felt guilty right away for having stopped him on his journey. “Sorry,” she said. “I hope I didn’t cause anyone else to suffer—or die.”
He smiled. “No, they will be fine.” He poured the boiling liquid into a wooden bowl and offered it to her. “Drink this. It will help take the edge off the pain.”
She reached for the bowl and smelled it. It smelled like a mixture of coriander, mint and lavender, as well as some other herbs she was not familiar with. She carefully sipped the hot drink and grimaced when the bitterness hit her tongue.
Soren laughed briefly. “Not very appealing to the palate, I know, but it will help you sleep through the night.”
“Have I been sleeping long?” she asked, realizing she didn’t know how long she had been out for.
“Oh, about three and a half days,” he answered.
“Oh, no! My aunt and uncle will be extremely worried about me,” she said.
“Did you become separated from them?”
“Last I remember, I was hiking up to Odinseat in Bergendal, and they didn’t even know I had left.” Then she thought about it and gasped. “And it was on my birthday!” But she still couldn’t remember what happened after she visited Odinseat. She must have been unconscious until whoever it was brought her and left her here.
“When was your birthday?”
“On winter solstice,” she said.
“That is the last you remember?” he asked, looking surprised.
“Yes.” Then she remembered more of what happened after she had visited Odinseat. “I remember seeing a band of Vik men with weapons, and…” She let her voice trail off, not remembering anything else.
“Have you been on the glaciers for a long time?” he asked.
“I, uh—I don’t know. I don’t remember. I don’t even know how I got here, or how long I’ve been gone,” Ailia said.
“If the last thing you remember was your birthday on winter solstice before the attacks, you’ve been gone for about four months,” Soren said.
Ailia choked on the tonic she was drinking, coughing it up. “What?” she yelled. Her aunt and uncle must be worried sick. Maybe they even thought she was dead. And what about Geir, her husband-to-be? He must be searching for her.
“So you have been gone a while,” Soren said.
“Yes.” Months had disappeared, if what Soren was saying was true. “I’m sorry, I—uh, I’m a little shocked,” Ailia said.
“No need to apologize. I am sure I would react the exact same way had I been in your position.” He glanced at her a couple of times, as if there was something strange about her.
Maybe he thinks I’ve gone mad, she thought. She should not tell him more. “I’m just not feeling well. My leg hurts, my head hurts—” she said, trying to explain why she was acting strange.
“The tonic will help you feel better soon,” Soren said.
She kept sipping the bitter brew until it was all gone. It felt good in her stomach and warmed her aching body, though it did nothing to calm her nerves. She needed to find a way to get home—fast. After they had sat in silence for some time, Ailia asked, “Are you from Bergendal or thereabouts?” Perhaps he could help her get home.
“No, I am from Trollsoe, but I have not lived there for quite some time. It is about a week’s journey by horse, toward the south-west, bordering on the ocean,” he said. He paused before he added, “Now, I mainly travel from city to city, staying for a few weeks until my help is needed elsewhere. What about you?”
“I come from Bergendal. My parents died of the smallpox before I can remember and my aunt and uncle raised me as their own.”
Soren looked at her again, that same scrutinizing look in his eyes.
Why does he look at me that way? Ailia wondered angrily. She’d had enough of people treating her unkind, believing she was cursed. “They’re not actually related to me, but I call them aunt and uncle anyway.”
“I am sorry to hear about your parents,” Soren said. “I have lost loved ones in the past and know how painful it can be.” His face went stoic.
“I don’t remember my birth parents,” she said. “I wish I would have known them. I wish I could remember my mother’s voice, or that I even had something from them, a letter, an item of clothing, something to prove that they existed.” She wasn’t sure if the drink was starting to work and that is why she felt she could be so open with Soren, or if he was indeed a kindred soul.
“So you only know the old Bergendal before the eternal winter began,” he said.
The eternal winter, isn’t that a prophecy? She knew she had heard about it from somewhere, but where? “I don’t know any other Bergendal than the one I grew up in,” she said. “Is it different?” Now, she started worrying whether her aunt and uncle were all right. They could have been taken by the Vik people, or could be—She did not want to t
hink about what bad things could have happened to them.
“Bergendal is not too different, but in worse condition than before.” Soren took off his gloves and used some snow to rinse out the pot he had made the brew in.
Ailia saw that he wore a gold serpent wedding band on his ring finger. Married. Although, he hadn’t mentioned his wife or family yet. After a little while the brew was starting to make her feel really drowsy and she couldn’t resist yawning.
“We had better get some sleep before dawn. We have a long journey ahead of us and it is easier to travel during daylight. It will take us two to three days to get back to Bergendal.”
Ailia assumed that was an invitation for him to help her get back home. “All right,” she said and yawned again.
He plopped down on the opposite side of the fire pit in a makeshift bed.
Ailia could see that he had given her all the warmer furs as he pulled the thin, overused reindeer fur over his body. Looking at him, she couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked in the light of the fire.
Their eyes met for a brief moment and Ailia quickly looked away, slightly self-conscious and uneasy about how her heart had started to race. “Good night,” she said, lying down and pulling the furs over her body.
“Good night,” Soren responded. “If you need anything, please do not hesitate to wake me. I am a light sleeper.”
“Thank you,” Ailia said with a nod. “For all you have done.” Then she remembered something he had said right before she lost consciousness. “I was just wondering—” she said. “You mentioned the name Lucia right when you saw me?”
“Yes, my mistake. I thought at first you were someone else.” He nodded, turned around and laid his head on the thin linen blanket.
“Good night then,” Ailia said and closed her heavy eyelids.
10
Friend or Foe