Berserker by Emmy Laybourne

Author:Emmy Laybourne [Laybourne, Emmy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1250055202
Amazon: B06XRKVKFB
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends
Published: 2017-10-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Hanne gnawed on a piece of hardtack. It was meant to be soaked in coffee or fried in grease, but the hunger in her gut could wait no longer.

Owen was trying to build a fire near the rock wall of their ice cave, though the wood was wet. He had poked two vent holes in the icy dome of the ceiling to let smoke out and fresh air in. One was near the rock wall, the other near their entrance hole.

Owen was not asking any questions. That was a blessing, Hanne supposed. He would leave them when it was safe enough to do so. That seemed a certainty.

He had been working with a steady efficiency for the last hour. He had unloaded the mule and unfolded and spread out the canvas cover sheet from his bedroll on the floor of the cave.

Sissel insisted that Owen tend to the dog before he examined the wound on her arm, explaining that the dog had surely saved her life. The arm of Sissel’s coat and the new shirt beneath had been ripped to shreds. Hanne’s muffler was wrapped around her arm.

Hanne had been proud of her sister at that moment, and also while Sissel held the lantern as Owen sewed up Daisy’s wound. Knut held the dog down, his fist clamped around her muzzle, in case the pain overcame the dog’s training and she tried to bite. She hadn’t, though. She’d borne the surgery well, only struggling when Owen tied off the stitches at the very end.

Now she was sleeping again, after having licked the wound thoroughly.

The walls in the shelter had frozen, slick with melted water. What a strange, dark cave it was.

Under Stieg’s direction, Knut had used scoops of snow from outside to form a wall, bit by bit shutting the hole they had come through. Once Stieg thought it had thickened enough from the snow piling against it outside, he had blown on it softly, melting it into place.

Now the air was warm, moist, and close, despite the whistling vent in the ceiling. The snow on their clothes was melting, which meant everything was damp, and the canvas “floor” Owen had laid out was muddy. The cave bore the smell of too many bodies in a tight space.

Stieg sat with his head cradled in his hands. Coffee might help the crushing headache that accompanied his using his Nytte.

Hanne wanted to make her brother some coffee, but in this state of hunger, she could help no one but herself. She had kept herself out of their small supply of sugar only by feeling how great the shame would be if she gave in. She would not have Owen see her eat up the sugar straight from the bag. She would not! The hardtack would have to hold her.

Owen cussed under his breath. The wood seemed too wet to light.

“Owen, are you frightened of us?” Stieg said softly. His voice had a raspiness to it. He sounded old.

Hanne stopped chewing. All was silent in the ice hut, except for the intermittent whistling of wind down the chimney hole.

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