Chapter Five
The sleigh coasted to a stop. Hanne poked her head out. They had come to rest beside an enormous tree. The twisted branches overhead blocked out any moonlight. She was grateful for the circle of light thrown by the lanterns, small as it was. Her gratitude was short-lived as Ragnifer held up his pole and the lanterns suddenly went out. Her senses were heightened by the dark and the cold. Hanne heard the snow crunch as the little man clamored down. Ragnifer sharply tapped his pole onto the icy ground. As suddenly as the lights had gone out, a glow emerged from the crevices in the giant tree. Before Hanne’s baffled eyes, snow melted in the shape of crescent moon-shaped windows. With a shudder, snow tumbled down as an arched door swung open. A cheerful giggle carried on the frigid air. The doorway was filled with a smiling woman.
In response to the woman in the doorway’s gesture, Hanne struggled out of the sleigh with Lilja in her arms. The cheerful laughter continued as they slogged through the very deep, soft snow. Hanne had the sense of her being entirely round… round, pretty face, and rotund body, with a cinched apron at the middle. Her white-blonde hair hung heavily past her full hips. A triangular kerchief covered her hair, although she had no neck to speak of, and Hanne couldn’t see where it was tied under her chin. If laughter had a color, Hanne thought, this woman’s would be silver. Hanne was ushered inside and the door snugly shut behind them.
They were standing on a landing between staircases. Hanne followed Ragnifer as he confidently ascended a flight of stairs. “Come on, might as well get the not believing part out of the way.” The stairs turned within the tree trunk and then suddenly opened up. The high domed ceiling was alive with what appeared to be stars. Not star shapes—real, twinkling stars. One of them shot across the ceiling leaving a crystalline tail in its wake.
Their hostess gave a sharp rebuke. “That’s enough, Dara, we all see you…” Leaning conspiratorially closer to Ragnifer, she continued, “She does nothing but show off, all day, every day…” The star froze and seemed to sulk, at least it looked like what Hanne imagined if a star could sulk, which, of course, they couldn’t. Hanne was bewildered. She had seen things she would have never thought possible, but she was gob-smacked by this.
Ragnifer made the introductions. “Stella, this here is Hanne the former princess, which I alone am capable of getting to the great wall.” The little man seemed to be puffing his chest out.
“Hello, Stella,” Hanne said. This seemed to set Stella off again, as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Stella took the baby from Hanne’s arms and carefully composed her face to appear as if she was gazing adoringly at Lilja. Hanne was not fooled, and noticed that Stella was actually watching Ragnifer through her eyelashes.
Gazing up at the magnificent ceiling, Hanne asked, “What is this place? Do you live here?”
More giggling and Stella gave a shy shrug. “It’s a sort of hospital.”
Hanne could see no beds or patients.
Ragnifer interjected, “Young Stella here and her family are stornhirdirs.”
Hanne’s mind first tripped up on the term ‘young Stella.’ The woman was at least the age of Hanne’s own mother. Moving past that, she untangled the other words. “Star shepherds? Is that what you said?”
Stella gave another shy shrug. “You must be hungry,” she said. As if a hospital that cared for injured stars was an everyday sort of thing and required no more of their time or attention.
It was difficult for Hanne to go down the stairs. Her feet were stiff in their frozen boots. She followed down the stairs, slowly.
Underground must be where the star shepherds lived.
There was a glowing beehive oven and the pleasant smell of something roasted and delicious. Hanne glanced around. The roots of the tree formed the walls of the clean and cozy room. Brightly painted furniture and woven rugs lent comfort to what could have otherwise been a rugged home. There was a line of windows nearly at the ceiling, which would provide light during the day. Framed needlepoint renderings of constellations sat cheek by jowl with paintings of Stella and her parents. Hanne was speechless as she followed Ragnifer and the shepherdess of stars to the table, her frozen legs and feet making her ungainly and clumsy.
Ragnifer worriedly took Lilja into his own arms and Stella hustled some pans from the oven.
“Stella can cook,” Ragnifer assured Hanne. Stella laid plates of a flaky pastry coil filled with walnuts and rosemary on the table. It smelled more delicious than anything ever had to Hanne. Stella poured some pear cider and Ragnifer tucked in greedily to his supper. “Where is everybody else?” he asked mid-chew, spewing a shower of flaky pastry all around him.
This breach of etiquette didn’t faze the star shepherdess; she continued to gaze rapturously at the indifferent little man.
“Pabbi and Modr are rescuing a fallen friend. I stayed to welcome you. We got your message.”
Hanne had many questions, beginning with how exactly had Ragnifer sent a message? She had been with him the whole time.
A ruckus outside the door diverted everyone’s attention before she could give voice to her queries. The door banged open. Even through all the snow that had blown in with them, Hanne could see that there was a woman who looked remarkably like Stella, only with her hair entirely hidden by a lavishly embroidered pointy cap. The similarly hatted man was being dragged by a bundle he tightly clasped in his hands. The cloth-covered object would make an attempt at getting airborne and then crash, taking the little man with it. This had the effect of making him bound like a frog and then slither a bit on the floor before his next ill-fated attempt at flight. Ragnifer leapt up and threw himself onto the wriggling cloth bag.
“Here, let me.” Stella wrapped her arms around the object and sank down to sit cross-legged on the floor. She shimmied the cloth bag off and a weak light streamed from the cracks in between her fingers. Stella nestled her apron around it. Her face was illuminated with the reflected glow emanating from her lap. She whispered soothingly to the quivering lump in her lap. It settled down. “Now, rest a bit,” Stella whispered. Her face glowed prettily. “Princess Hanne, this is my Pabbi and Modr.” Her parents gave a quick bow and Hanne hurried to stop them. “Please, we should be curtsying to you for taking us in.”
Her companion guffawed.
“I ain’t doing no curtsyin’. You speak for yourself.”
Everyone but the woodsman laughed. “Your home is so pretty,” Hanne said to the sturdy little woman whose portrait adorned the walls. “I have never seen anything like it,” she said, which could not have been more true. Hanne stopped talking, unsure how to address them as she could hardly call them Mother and Daddy.
She was relieved when the older woman pressed a hand to her own chest and said, “Ilma and my husband is Anvindr.” More cider was poured. Hanne’s toes began to ache as they became slightly warmer. She must have shifted uncomfortably because Ilma leapt up. “You poor dear, you must be frozen. We forget how fragile your kind is.” Over Hanne’s protests, she ordered her husband to pull the ‘warming stone’ from the oven, and she began unlacing Hanne’s boots. Hanne’s hand on her shoulder did not slow down her hostess’s ministrations.
Ragnifer saw her discomfort and waved it away. “It’s for the best. Ilma knows her way around a frozen body.” There was nothing at all reassuring about this.
“Wait, wait, check the baby,” Hanne insisted. Ragnifer laid the babe on the table and Hanne quickly undressed her. Lilja appeared none the worse for wear. Her toes were warm and pink.
Ilma threw her arms around Hanne’s neck. “Good job, Mama!” Hanne was discomfited, but pleased. While Ilma redressed the baby, wrapping her bottom in a fresh woolen diaper, Arvind pulled a hefty square stone from underneath the beehive oven. It appeared far too large to be lifted by such a compact little man. It was quickly wrapped in thick, heavy flannel and placed in front of Hanne. Her stockings were filled with melting ice. Amidst much clucking and fretting, Ilma rolled her stockings off and placed her pale feet flat on the heated rock. Hanne winced and lifted her feet reflexively. Ilma gently pressed her knees down. Once she relaxed, it was not as hot as Hanne had feared. Ilma pulled the sides of the woolen wrapping up and bound them around Hanne’s knees, effectively trapping the heat around her feet and calves. Hanne gasped as both of her feet began to throb.
The others continued to discuss her as if she wasn’t there. “Those are ridiculous boots. Let’s see if I can find her some skallers,” Ilma said.
Anvindr rose and fetched an ornately carved wooden box from a shelf. “Really, it’s a wonder any of them live very long,” he said.
“Fragile,” Ragnifer agreed while he filled his pipe. Ilma fetched some sweetly scented oil and some thick woolen slippers.
Anvindr leaned back and propped his feet on the table. His wife laughingly shoved them off. “Not on my clean table! Were you raised in a cave?”
Hanne decided this was her opening to ask some questions. “Are there many stornhirdirs? Do you all live in hollow trees?”
Ragnifer’s mouth dropped open. Hanne had clearly unwittingly said something rude. “What kind of question is that? How many star shepherds does the world need?” he scolded her.
“Well,” she began timidly, “I had no idea there were any.” The others shared a conspiratorial smirk.
“Typical, don’t see what’s right in front of your face,” Ragnifer snorted. A more serious look passed between the vaettir and the stornhirdirs.
“There’s something afoot,” Anvindr said slowly, taking a long swig of cider.
“It’s nothing we can put our finger on,” said Ilma as she took Hanne’s feet onto her lap and began to knead them with the oil. “The snow is dry for this time of year.” Hanne had no idea how anyone would even notice such a thing.
Stella continued, as she stroked the bundle in her lap. “Nobody was ready for such a harsh, early winter. Not the rabbits, the caterpillars, or the stars. It’s the strangest thing.”
All the aches of being tossed about in a frozen sleigh began to ebb away. Hanne’s exhaustion hit her like a mallet.
Ragnifer rose. “We need to get some sleep. We’ll need to be on our way soon enough.” Hanne glanced around. Tucked into the corner of the room was a bed. She recognized a trundle bed underneath. Where on earth would they all sleep?
They all began the trek up the curving stairs. The sky opened up around them. “Are we outside?” Hanne whispered, gesturing toward the stars above them.
“No, it’s just a really big tree,” Ilma answered.
Hanne wondered if it was a joke, and then realized it was not. “Is this Yggdrasil—the tree of life?” she whispered reverently.
Anvindr answered, “A distant relative of Yggdrasil, maybe a second cousin or something.”
The branches stretched up and formed a dome that was impossibly high and full of resting stars.
Stella had successfully soothed the star still cradled in her skirt. “All right, if you insist, but let me help you,” she whispered. Stella moved to the center of the room. “Be kind,” she chided the stars hovering nervously above her. “Are you ready?” she whispered to the star in her frock. Somehow the star must have communicated the affirmative, for she rapidly grabbed the corners of her apron and stretched it taut. The injured star gave a tentative bounce and then used the outstretched apron to trampoline itself toward the roof. Hanne sat with her face turned upward and her mouth agape.
“What? Are you offering a home to every bug that can survive the cold?” Ragnifer asked with a barking laugh. Hanne closed her mouth.
Before her eyes some of the branches began to move and twisted themselves into two beds and a cradle. Ilma had a stack of bedding in her arms and efficiently made the beds. “Don’t you burn the whole place down with that pipe,” Ilma chided Ragnifer. He hung his head like a scolded little boy and meekly promised to be careful. Stella lingered as long as she could at the top of the stairs, making what Hanne could only describe as cow eyes at the wood sprite. Only when it was abundantly clear that Ragnifer wasn’t going to look up from the belongings he was organizing did she surrender and with a disappointed sigh descend the stairs.
Hanne couldn’t resist teasing Ragnifer as she tucked Lilja into her bed. “She’s clearly in love with you.”
His eyes flashed in fury. “What do ye take me for? She’s a child!”
Hanne was silent for a moment, not sure how to respond to that. “Do you know how old she is?”
“On the south side of fifty! I’ve known her since she was born.”
“You think fifty is young?” A sudden thought grabbed her. “How long do you live? I mean, vaettirs and star herders and whatever else might actually, although I know it’s impossible, exist.”
“Those of us which might actually exist…” He gnashed his teeth vexedly. “We live until we die.” He loudly tugged his boots off, keeping up an angry muttering. “Who is she calling impossible?”
Hanne climbed into her own bed, with a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. She was learning to allow the ranger to vent his spleen until he ran out of steam. It didn’t take long this time. He took a steady drag on his pipe. The fragrant smoke formed a wreath around his head.
“Young Stella… heh. Hmmm, not an altogether revoltin’ proposition. She can cook, after all. The deer probably wouldn’t hate her, neither. Perhaps her mother could get some meat on her bones…”
Hanne decided pointing out that Stella was spherical in shape would be ungracious. On a whim, she pulled out the scroll. It unrolled to a part she hadn’t read before. She squinted her eyes. It was dark in the treetop, but she wasn’t quite ready to fall asleep. Soft as a spring dewdrop, the injured star settled behind her bed. It provided just enough gleam to read by. Jonis was describing his new bride Ana to his friend the general. For the current bride to be, it was sobering reading. Ana was innocent and young.
I know it sounds vulgar, but I like the idea of being the man who has exposed her to new ideas. I get to re-experience things as my darling girl does.
Hanne shifted grumpily. She wasn’t darling, or a girl. And she had a pretty good idea of the sorts of things a husband wanted to expose his bride to. Swine, she thought to herself. Ana was dainty and slender as a rail. Hanne looked down at herself. Nope, definitely not. Ana had raven tresses and brilliant blue eyes. Hanne ran a hand through her chestnut rat’s nest and rolled her hazel eyes. It got worse. Ana had grown up on a keep and knew precisely how to conduct herself. She knew all the same people her bridegroom knew. Hanne had spent most of her life unsure if the wall was real or not.
Upon reading that Ana was the sweetest tempered, most soft-spoken and tender-hearted dove to ever grace the wall, Hanne tossed the scroll over her shoulder, unsure just who she disliked more: Ana, Jonis, or herself. A small rustling noise made her turn and she was amazed to see a delicate branch retrieve and hold out the scroll to her. The celestial glow cast rose gold shadows over Lilja’s sleeping profile. Hanne realized in that moment that none of it mattered. If she was going to spend her life married to a man who could never care about her since she wasn’t his perfect Ana, then so be it. If her chilblains got chilblains, and she never had another friend in her life and he punished her every day, so be it. Let it come. Lilja would be safe, and someday, her mother would tell her the story of the adventure they had gone on together and that every second of it had been worth it. Hanne decided she was going to absorb the magic all around her, the better to tell the story to her daughter.
They were inside a tree that served as a clinic for wounded stars. A sprite who could talk to animals was muttering in his sleep and the only thing that prevented him burning the entire place down was that one of those magical prehensile branches had lifted his pipe from his sleeping hands. This was to be savored. Hanne was transfixed by the stars moving around her bed, as she fell asleep to their celestial waltz.
She was wrenched from the sweetness of sleep by being shaken by Ilma. “The stars are shrieking, you must away right now.” The star-shepherding matron was frantic. “Hurry, lady, the team is being made ready.”
Hanne dressed herself while Ilma wrapped Lilja snugly. Stella knelt in front of her and guided her feet into the skallers—boots made of three layers of fur with turned-up toes. Stella skillfully wrapped colorful wool around the top and over Hanne’s stockings, thereby locking warmth in and snow out.
Hanne hadn’t even caught her breath before she was prodded into the sleigh and Ragnifer urged the team forward. The woods flashed by them, in the dark. Hanne could sense Ragnifer’s anxiety, and it fed her own. A pack of wolves fell in beside them and kept up with the frantic reindeer. They were not what the team was running from, they were comrades in arms. Hanne twisted around and yet could not see anyone following them. Suddenly, the reindeer began to slide on the snow. It took all of Ragnifer’s skill to keep them all upright.
Over his shoulder he called to her, “Me pole! Hand me my pole!” The bitter wind nearly ripped it out of her hand but he was able to grab it from her. The wizened woodsman waved it over the ice and began to hum, “Gronn.” Hanne recognized it as the chant he had used to bring grass through the snow. No grass appeared. Perhaps they were moving too fast for that, but it did seem to soften the crust of ice that was making the reindeer slip. The team began to gain ground again, their hooves throwing up heavy clumps of snow. Hanne’s ears were battered by a skyward rumble. She was startled to see a flock of owls flying close behind them, stirring up the snow with their powerful wings.
Hanne held Lilja even more tightly as they careened onward. She gave a shout of joy when she realized that the owl’s ministrations were removing their tracks. If anyone was chasing them, it would not be easy. Hanne’s attention was focused on their amazing avian compatriots. It was clearly hard work and each owl would perch on the back of the sleigh to rest while others took its place in the formation. It was the pungent odor that made her turn around and look for its source. She shrieked as Ragnifer drove them straight at a herd of what looked like running haystacks with formidable horns. The muskox gave way the merest fraction and suddenly the sleigh was surrounded by them. The hooves thundered as both the muskox and the reindeer continued to run at a full bore. Hanne grasped Lilja and slunk as low in the sleigh as she could.
The oxen were so closely pressed around the sleigh that more than once she was hit across the face with the foul-smelling tresses borne by their bovine protectors. She found herself so warm that she loosened the fur from around her shoulders. She could see nothing beyond the well-muscled shoulders of their escorts. It was amazing how easily the trampling horde incorporated the more elegant reindeer among themselves. With Ragnifer crouched low, they become invisible within the earth-shaking horde.
They came to a violent shuddering stop. Hanne had nearly let go of the baby from the jolt and curiously looked around. Instead of shoulders, all she could see was the rumps of muskox ringing the sleigh in a tight circle. Before she could stand for a better view, Ragnifer grabbed her sleeve and yanked her onto the floor of the sled. “Stay down, Princess. They’ve fallen into formation.”
Hanne raised an eyebrow; she had no idea what that meant or what the appropriate reply was. She could see Ragnifer exerting all of his self-control to not slap his own forehead at her stupidity. “The youngest oxen surround us and each circle becomes stronger. The strongest ox is in the outside layer. Anyone who wanted to get you or the babe would have to fight through all of them.”
“But who is it?”
“They are wearing masks, but they have to be skilled riders to have caught up with us. Don’t you worry; it would take an army to get through the ox ring.”
All was quiet except for the stamping of the heavy oxen ringing out upon the frozen rime. Occasionally the muskox would shift in such a way that Hanne could tell that their pursuers were looking for an opening.
As suddenly as they had stopped, they were moving again, at an even faster clip than they had been before. Ragnifer skillfully drove his sleigh amongst hundreds of thundering musk oxen. The snow fell in a damp cloud that prevented Hanne from seeing even Ragnifer’s back. She was learning to read the movement of the herd. They thundered forward while the oxen in front of them were peeling to the sides to allow the sleigh to charge forward through a stone arch and under an iron portcullis. Ragnifer had gotten her to the wall.