Page 28 of Edge of the Wild

Tessa knew that Revna didn’t intend to sleep, but she’d reached a point of exhaustion at which naps pounced on her like predators, and she wound up with her chin on her chest, tilting out of her chair. After the last such incident, Leif had moved her – managing not to wake her – to the sofa by the window, where she slept, still, as Tessa helped Thyra and Bestla lift dripping towels of thawed snow into a tub and settle fresh, cold ones in place down the length of Rune’s torso.

No one, it seemed, worried much anymore about Tessa’s maiden sensibilities. First nursing Oliver, and now with Rune, with the family stretched to the breaking point, all attempts at preserving her modesty had been left off. Rune lay naked to the waist, save for the thick padding of bandages around his middle, and Tessa worked silently and efficiently with the two nurses, arranging the towels against his skin, ensuring the towels were rolled thick enough that the snow wouldn’t burn him.

Olaf was here, now, as Leif lit fresh tapers and the late afternoon shadows stretched long and thin across the floor, across the mattress, so that Rune’s pale skin was cut with diamond shadows from the leaded window panes.

The physician hummed quietly to himself. Pried up the bandages to peek beneath. Felt Rune’s forehead; peeled up his eyelids to examine his pupils. “The wound is beginning to heal nicely,” he said, tone quiet. “If his fever breaks, and stays down, then I believe it’s safe to say he’s avoided any serious internal damage.”

Leif tossed the spill into the hearth and joined them, rubbing wearily at the back of his neck. “What does that mean?”

“It means we must continue to wait, your grace. And pray if that is your inclination.”

Leif sighed, but nodded.

“Thank you, Olaf,” Tessa said.

He smiled at her and took his leave with a quick bow.

The makeshift ice packs all in place, Thyra and Bestla pulled the covers back up and set about removing the old towels so they could be laundered.

Tessa dried her hands on her apron, and, feeling a bit trapped, but back-sore from standing, dropped down into the chair nearest the bed. Her hand reached automatically for Rune’s limp one. “I hate feeling so helpless,” she murmured, and the moment the words left her lips knew that they expressed only a fraction of her steadily-mounting anxiety.

“Youfeel helpless,” Leif said, dropping down into the chair across the bed. “Imagine if you’d been there and not been able to stop it happening.” His gaze lifted to hers, afterward, stricken. “Forgive me: that was uncharitable. And you’ve been so very–”

She shook her head, silencing him. “We’re all stretched thin,” she said. “Is anything any of us say uncharitable at this point?”

He made a face and glanced away, toward Rune’s face: it had been more mobile since the ice packs were applied. His brow was furrowed, now, and his lips twitched, every few minutes, as if he might speak – but hadn’t so far.

“Leif, you know it wasn’t your fault.”

His mouth twitched. She wasn’t seeing a different side of him, she didn’t think – his rush to apologize proved that – but the constant grit of worry and wait had buffed away the gleaming, youthful optimism she’d come to think of as a more grown-up version of Rune’s bright exuberance. Rune was like a hunk of metal plucked straight from the ground, in the dirty grasp of a triumphant miner; Leif was the finished product, polished, shaped, ready for wear.

The last few days, though, he’d dimmed. She didn’t know what to offer other than assurances.

He said, “I knew he was drunk. I told him not to go out shooting in the dark.”

“How could you have known Ormr would be waiting for him?” she countered.

“Forget Ormr.” His tone cracked with frustration. “He could have shot himself in the foot – or shot someone else. He could have gotten hurt a dozen different ways.”

“But could you have actually kept him from going out there?”

“It would have gotten ugly, but I could have, yes, I could have–” He cut off, abruptly. Lurched forward in his chair, eyes widening.

Before Tessa could ask him what was wrong, she heard it – heardhim: Rune.

A deep breath. A murmured syllable: “…och.” Another, a sibilant hiss.

His hand fluttered in Tessa’s grip, and then tightened; palm-to-palm, he squeezed her back.

She gasped. Couldn’t stop the sudden rush of tears that filled her eyes as she watched his eyes flutter half-open, unfocused and drowsy, but open all the same. His head stirred, hair rustling on the pillow.

Leif shot to his feet, wavering, unsteady; Tessa imagined the blood had rushed from his head the same way it had hers. He braced a hand on the pillow and leaned over his brother. “What?” His voice quivered, like he didn’t dare believe yet. “Rune, can you hear me? What are you trying to say?”

Rune’s chapped lips parted, and he took another large, slow breath before croaking out, “Tha’s…tha’s bollocks. You couldn’t” – another breath – “’ave stopped…me.”

Tessa’s mouth fell open.

Leif’s did, too. He gaped at his brother a long moment.

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