My Beloved Wolf

Chapter 15

I wake to the sun peeking through the cracks in the barn, realizing I’d slept longer than I had intended. Anders is awake next to me, but he’s made no effort to move. Instead, he holds me tight like he never wants to let me go, and I find that I don’t want him to.

I’d stay with him here forever, except I need to earn the gift for him. He didn’t want to marry me because he couldn’t give me a gift. It showed me how important this is to him. I lean my head up to kiss his cheek, wiggling out of his arms.

He sighs sadly but releases me. I dress quickly and climb down, not bothering to bring the bread I had kept, for I know the widows will feed me. Even when I didn’t help them, they fed me. They were so kind to me, and I realize now that they must have known I was with her when she passed. I had no reason to be so upset- I didn’t know her. But they knew it was hard to be there with her, and they held me close when I needed it.

I knock on the door and Inga opens it, a smile on her face as she motions towards the table. As expected, she places food on the table and sits across from me, silently eating with me before we begin another morning together.

After what feels like an eternity, and I’m covered in sweat, we finish the laundry. I move to leave, but Inga stops me. She says something, but none of what she says sounds familiar to me, and I look at her with confusion. Whatever she needs to tell me seems important, but I can’t figure any of it out.

“Catherine,” she says. Inga takes my hand and leads me to the door, turning to grab something wrapped in a cloth before we leave. We get to the gate, and she motions for me to lead.

“Catherine?” I ask again, realizing she wants me to take her there. She must not know where to find her during the day.

We walk in companionable silence, as all our interactions have been. She’s been so kind to me, but even more so, she’s been such a mother figure when I desperately needed one. It’s scary to be in a new land, and while I have Anders, I find it so lonely sometimes. She shared her food with me and held me while I cried. I’ve never had that before, and I did not realize how much I would love it.

We reach the village and I begin to look around for my friend. While she usually works in the barn, she doesn’t always. She told me one day that she tries to keep her head down and stay out of the way, not wanting to draw the attention of the Jarl. She does not like him. At all.

I pass a young boy I’ve seen before, and he waves a greeting and then points behind the barn. I smile at him gratefully. As we turn the corner of the building, I find Catherine unloading fresh hay from a wagon into the barn.

“Hey,” I say, pulling her attention our way. “I think Inga wants to talk to you.”

She nods and joins us, saying something to the woman. They speak for a moment, and she smiles at her with such a happy expression.

“She said the widows were thankful to you and Anders for helping Knute,” she tells me. “They like you. She said your work for her is done, and she has your payment.”

Inga holds her hands out to me, presenting an item wrapped in beautiful linen. I take it from her and look it over.

“I still have one more day,” I say. “I had promised three days of work but have only completed two.”

“She says no more is required. They want to see you happy with Anders.”

“Thank you,” I tell her in her own language. She reaches out and begins to unwrap the item in my hands. Inside, I find a beautiful band made of heavy metal. It looks like the one Anders wears, though not exactly. She speaks as we look at it, her fingers gently going across the intricate lines twisting across. There’s a wolf head on each end. Inga reaches up and wipes away a tear, smiling sweetly at the band.

Catherine gently pats the woman on the shoulder and lowers her voice as she leans to me. “The Jarl here gives these to the men as they pledge their loyalty to him. Her husband was from a different village, and the band meant something different there. His band represented his oath to protect and care for her when they married. She couldn’t bring herself to bury him with it and kept it, but she wants you to have it for Anders.”

“I can’t take this,” I say, looking up at the two of them. “I just wanted something for him to have since he has to leave his with me. I know it’s important to him, but I can’t take something that means so much to her.”

“No,” Catherine tells me. “She says Anders will love you as much as her husband loved her. She insists. It is like it was meant to be for him.”

I want to thank her and tell her I understand how important this is to her, but I can’t find any words to express what it means to me. Instead, I reach out and wrap her into a giant hug that she returns. It’s warm and caring, and I imagine it’s what having a mother or maybe a grandmother would feel like. My dad did everything he could for me, but it’s just not the same as this feeling.

“She says Anders reminds her of her husband,” Catherine continues to explain to me. “He will care for you as her husband did. She also has a wedding gift for you.”

I pull back and look at the woman, who smiles at me. She hands me a second item wrapped in linen, tied with a cluster of little yellow flowers, its long stem wrapped around it.

“She said to open it when you get ready for him tomorrow,” Catherine shrugs. “She didn’t tell me what this is but said that if you two are ever separated, it’s hiding something that will help you get back to him.”

I look at the beautifully wrapped item, unsure what to think. I hadn’t expected anyone to know when we were getting married and certainly not to care. Anders and I are strangers here, with no family and barely getting to know anyone. Her generosity is overwhelming, and I find myself reaching out to hug her again.

Once she leaves to return home, I head to Helga’s hut. I’m unsure if she wanted me to come today, but I should stop by and check. I knock and walk in to find her at a table, mixing and muddling some herbs in a pestle. She pats the seat on the bench next to her, and I sit, watching her carefully as she works.

Helga occasionally looks at me with a smile but continues her work. She lifts items and tells me their names before showing me what they are for. Sometimes, she points to her chest and takes a deep breath. Other times, she points to her lower abdomen. Sometimes, I don’t understand what she’s trying to tell me at all, but I smile and nod.

She hands me some herbs and motions for me to mix them as she is, but they slip from my hand and fall to the table. “I’m sorry,” I tell her wide-eyed, unsure what to do. Helga smiles and reaches over, brushing the herbs into her hand. She places them back in the bowl before patting my back, showing me it is alright.

The language barrier continues to grow smaller each day, but I feel more at home here than I ever did where I was from, like this was meant to be.