Runestone (31 page)

Svenson’s soft snores and the deep breathing of Odin sounded in the cubicle of the three. Nils thought that no one else was awake in the entire lodge except for the athletic couple across the fire. Then, just as the sounds in the darkness seemed to reach a peak, there was a momentary silence. In this short space of quiet, he heard a sound that was perhaps the most frustrating of all. From the other side of the thin leather curtain at his elbow came a soft feminine chuckle that he recognized as quite familiar. He was greatly tempted to reach under the curtain’s edge and feel around in the darkness. His hand actually moved in that direction, but he hesitated.

No
, he told himself sternly,
but I will talk to Odin tomorrow!

W
alking Bird, now known as Odin, father of the gods, was almost ecstatic over his good fortune. His return to the People had been beyond his wildest fantasies. He was somewhat embarrassed that his long separation from family and friends was because of his own stubbornness and stupidity. Family and friends, however, seemed unaware of that factor. Unaware, or perhaps forgiving. There was a willingness to forget and forgive in the happiness of his homecoming.

That homecoming, he realized, was a major event in the lives of the People, as well as in his own life. He had returned with an astounding story, a prolonged story with several individual parts to it. Any one of the separate phases of that story would have been good. His capture and repeated attempts to escape…His eventual success, flight and his sanctuary among the Norsemen at Straumfjord…The voyage of exploration, the great canoes with winglike sails that caught the wind…The destruction of that entire expedition, and the escape of the three survivors…

Ah, he had not even had to exaggerate any of it in the telling! Best of all, he had brought with him the living proof of his story in the form of the two Norsemen. He had found it unnecessary even to demonstrate the powerful gifts of White Wolf. The appearance and demeanor of the light-haired holy man were enough to convince the People, once they had heard the story.

Was he really a holy man? Odin had spent much time in thought about that. At the time of the White Wolf episode, Odin had initially thought that he, Odin, was performing a deception on their enemies. He had deliberately led them to believe that certain things of the spirit were happening. But
somewhere along the line, reality had become blurred. Odin had lost track of what was real and what was part of his subterfuge. In his sincere efforts to convince their captors, he had been drawn into the story so completely…Ah, one
must
believe, to tell a story well. There were times when he himself believed that he had seen Thorsson turn into a wolf. In the final analysis, did it really matter? Events had occurred that brought about astonishing results. If he, in attempting to interpret those results, had brought about a belief on the part of others, so be it.

There are many things in the world that cannot be explained, but that cannot be denied, either. Maybe some of these that defy explanation should merely be enjoyed. The colors of a sunset, the whisper of the breeze in the pines on a warm autumn afternoon, the uniform lines of migrating geese high above…how were they able to space themselves in such exact formation? Odin had wondered about such things all of his life, and had eventually decided not to worry about it, but just to accept it. Some things are not meant to be understood. The sunset will occur, the breeze will still whisper to the trees, whether anyone understands that conversation or not.

And, Odin had decided, it is the same with things of the spirit. It did not matter whether Thorsson had
really
become a wolf, or had only
appeared
to. The result was the same, and it was good. Whatever the powers of the Norse holy man, they seemed beneficial to Odin. Had it not continued to be so? The most recent discovery, on his return to the People…Ah, had there really been any chance that Odin’s childhood sweetheart, with whom he had quarreled, would prove to be just emerging from her time of mourning for a lost husband? Hawk Woman had just become eligible for resumption of their once thwarted romance.

The two had talked, embarrassed at first. Very quickly, however, it seemed that they had resumed a conversation they had stopped only a little while ago. Soon they were chattering and giggling like children again. The resumption of their interrupted romance was a subject of great interest and of joy to the People. Even the infant, who looked much like her
mother, gazed at Odin with mischief in her large dark eyes, and smiled. And he found that that, too, was good.

Who was to say? Was all of this, these good things happening to him, just by chance? Or were they somehow resulting from his association with White Wolf and the unknown strength of the holy man’s powerful gifts? In the joy of the homecoming, he did not know and did not care. But he was thankful. Next season when the People carried out their annual celebration of thanks for the return of the sun and the awakening of growing things, he would offer prayers and sacrifices. Yes, to the spirits that guided the lives of the People, and to those of the Norsemen as well. He must find out more about their gods.

Perhaps he had been neglecting the newcomers, Odin thought. Once he had arrived home, he had been almost totally absorbed with reunion. Everyone wanted to talk to him and to listen to his tales of adventure. That was exciting and flattering, but it had begun to be a nuisance. He needed time to spend with his mother, his friends, and most of all, with Hawk Woman. It had become apparent at their first conversation after his return that they would be together. It was, however, for her to say when, and in the hope of a speedy resolution to that question, he was spending much time with her.

Therefore, White Wolf and Fire Carrier had been left to fend for themselves much of the time. Certainly, they had seemed to have no problem in adjusting to their new surroundings. Odin had expected none, because he had seen these two adjust quickly to the ways of fugitives, and again to those of their captors. One thing he had not anticipated was the reaction of children toward the Norsemen. To the children of the People, the most remarkable thing about the newcomers was their appearance. Their light-colored hair and eyes, and the bushy beard that grew directly from Svenson’s face seemed to fascinate the young ones. It had not been so with the children of their captors, but of course that had been a different situation altogether. That stay had been based on mutual distrust. Yes, that must be the difference.

Still, it had been startling to see the rapidity with which the children related to the strangers. To Svenson, especially.
Within three days, Sven’s every move was followed by a handful of children. When he sat, his lap was quickly occupied by at least one or two small ones. He reacted warmly, which in turn pleased the children. They laughed and teased and playfully tugged at the beard of the “Fire Man.” He in turn teased them, and it was not unusual to see a child riding on his back as he made his way around the village.

“Does Svenson have children at home?” Odin asked Nils.

“Yes, three or four. They are grown, I think.”

“It is good to see him with the little ones,” Odin observed.

The mothers, cautious at first, soon relaxed, seeing the obvious quality of the relationship. One extra advantage in all of this was that Svenson’s use of the People’s language was greatly helped. Naturally quick with language anyway, he rapidly began to communicate with his young followers in their own tongue. This in turn helped Nils, who was not quite so gregarious.

In half a moon, both were beginning to communicate, gradually improving their understanding as their usage increased. Nils had discarded his linen shirt, which had become threadbare, and was wearing a buckskin shirt that had been offered by Odin’s mother. Little by little, the two were becoming more comfortable with the customs and dress of the People. Odin felt pleased at that, and it helped to soften the slight pangs of guilt that he felt at having neglected them.

One of his concerns dealt with how well the outsiders would winter. There was a closeness, a forced association that was always somewhat of a problem in winter. During the Moon of Long Nights and the Moon of Snows there was frequently a period when no one could move farther than the adjacent lodges. Sometimes not even there, for a day or two. The People spent the time in visiting, telling stories, smoking, or gambling. Even so, tempers often became short before spring allowed more freedom of movement. By that time the lodges would have become stagnant and foul smelling, like the den of an animal. It was a joke among the People that some tolerated all of this better than others. Even so, it was an annual problem that was understood by the People. Odin’s concern was that it might not be understood by the newcomers.

Yet, surely, he thought, they had crossed the salty Big Water in their great canoes. That had taken many days, he understood. And they had had no women to comfort them, to warm their beds on the long, cramped sea voyage. That was another thing. The way things were now progressing, Odin felt that before Cold Maker swept down in full attack, Hawk Woman would have announced her intention to remarry. That was a matter of great anticipation for him. But what of White Wolf and Fire Carrier? How great was their need? He did not know their customs. He had seen the way Wolf looked at Calling Dove, and was not certain that he approved of such intentions toward his younger sister. After all, he did not even
know
the Norseman’s intentions. He could see the admiration and desire in the blue eyes, but what did it imply? A temporary dalliance, or something based on a sense of responsibility toward one’s bed companion? Odin was concerned, but did not know how to approach the subject with the Norseman. Even more disconcerting was the look in the eyes of his sister when she looked at White Wolf.

If these two did consummate the desire that shone plainly in the eyes of both, what then? What would happen when spring returned with the accompanying opportunity for travel? Would the two Norsemen immediately insist on starting back to their own people? Probably. If so, what of Calling Dove? Would the Norseman consider her his wife, and take her back with him, away from her people? Or would he feel no lasting ties, and leave her behind like a cast-off garment, possibly with child? Odin was wise in the ways of the world, and was not unaware of that strong possibility. It is the way of things, he knew. But he had never looked at the ways of men and women in just this way before.
This is my sister
, he wanted to shout. He found himself feeling a resentment toward White Wolf that was quite uncomfortable. And the man had done nothing to deserve it. Well, not yet.

Maybe
, thought Odin,
maybe I could talk of this with Hawk Woman
. Yes, that seemed to be a good thought. Maybe, even, Hawk Woman could inquire discreetly about Dove’s feelings in the matter.
Yes, women do discuss such things
, he thought,
more readily than men
. He would ask her to approach the subject with Calling Dove.

Feeling somewhat more confident, he went to look for Hawk Woman. He found her gathering sticks for fuel in the edge of the woods, her baby asleep in the cradleboard on her back.

“Let me help you,” he offered, starting to pick up branches to begin his own armful of wood. “I would talk with you.”

“And I, with you!” she said, smiling. She paused, studying his face. “You are very serious!”

“Yes,” he said. “It is a serious matter.”

“What?” she asked, sobering. “When we should marry?”

Odin was caught completely off guard.

“No … I mean, yes…I…well, no…I…”

“Stop!” she chuckled, placing a finger on his lips. “I think we should marry now. Soon, before snow flies.” She studied his face for a moment. “Was there something else?”

Now he recovered his composure, and smiled at her.

“If there was,” he told her, “I have forgotten.”

O
din and Hawk Woman consummated their marriage late in the Moon of Falling Leaves. There were jokes about the timing of the event. The next cycle in the unwritten calendar of the People would be the Moon of Madness. There were those who said that it would be more appropriate for this long-troubled romance, to wait until that time. Others were of the opinion that the couple wished to avoid such a connotation.