Chapter Eleven
In which there is much discussion…
Stigg was terrified when he discovered Arna had disappeared from the cottage. He looked all around the barn and house before he noticed her tracks leading towards the greenhouse. His alarm grew when he saw the portentous sky overhead. A terrible storm was coming. It surprised him that he was so overwhelmed by the thought of danger befalling her. This girl was upsetting the delicate balance he had carved out for his life. Stigg was a solitary, careful man—not prone to change or social interaction. Arna was causing him to feel differently about his methodical existence. She was good for him. Knowing he had no time for such distracting thoughts, he pushed them away. He followed her tracks before the storm hit. About half-way to the greenhouse, snow started to fall in great heavy sheets. Wolves howled in the distance and Stigg quickened his pace. The lantern he carried swung like a great pendulum as he lumbered through the deep snow. The howling grew louder. Then, up ahead, Stigg saw the white wolf running towards him.
“What’s happened?!” Stigg demanded.
The girl’s hurt. I was guarding the greenhouse and she saw me. I did not mean to frighten her. She climbed up the rock face. When I tried to stop her, she couldn’t hear my words. She lost her footing and fell. I think she’s broken her leg, the wolf told Stigg as he ran in Arna’s direction.
“Did she hurt anything else?” Stigg asked, laboring through the thickening snowstorm.
I’m not sure. As soon as I saw her fall, I ran to get one of you, the wolf answered.
Man and animal ran as fast as they could through the oncoming storm to get to Arna. Since the wolf’s speed was far superior to Stigg’s, he made it back far earlier than the man. He lay down next to the girl, who had passed out, and attempted to warm her body with his. The light from Stigg’s lantern revealed her still form long before he reached her. When he made it to her, he knelt next to her body. It was already covered in a thin blanket of snow, though the side closest to the wolf was beginning to melt. Stigg’s heart pounded as he checked for Arna’s pulse. It was there, faint. The wolf had said her leg may have been broken. He pushed her skirts up, exposing her stocking-covered legs. He examined each one and saw that the bone of her left thigh was threatening to break through the skin and tights. It would be very painful to splint, but it needed to be done before they could move her. It was a blessing she was unconscious. He gingerly examined her head but could see no gash or wound. There was a deep hole in the snow where her skull had made contact, however, and he imagined she would have a sore neck for the next few days.
“I’m going to splint the leg before any more damage can be done”, Stigg told the wolf.
The white creature nodded and settled over her body so that she would be still if she awoke during the process. The wolf inclined his head. When Stigg had a good grip on the leg, he exhaled and jerked the bone back into place. Arna did not stir, which troubled him. He tore strips from his jacket and grabbed several pieces of wood that had fallen from snowy trees. Tying them around the leg, he secured the splint. Stigg picked her up immediately after—careful to cradle her head in his arms. The wolf carried the lantern in its jaws as they got her back to the cottage as quickly as possible. Already, the storm had made it almost too difficult to travel.
Stigg noticed the way Arna smelled of lavender and jasmine—the varieties his mother hung in their kitchen. His fear almost paralyzed him. Though he had not known her for very long, he felt responsible for her protection. He cursed himself for failing to notice her absence sooner. Clenching his teeth, Stigg pressed on through the blinding snow. Fanndis was frantic when Stigg carried Arna’s limp body through the open kitchen door.
“Lay her on the table,” Fanndis barked as she wadded up a spare towel to cushion the girl’s head.
Stigg showed his mother Arna’s broken leg and his setting. Fanndis nodded; Stigg had done an expert job of it. Fanndis tore strips of linen from her medicine kit. With Stigg helping, and the wolf watching from the doorway, she removed Arna’s skirts and tights. Then, Fanndis thoroughly cleaned the wound and the entire leg with warm cloths and lavender oil. She rubbed a foul smelling salve over the wound that would stop internal bleeding and speed the healing of the bruised skin over the break. Using several layers of linen, they bound it from Arna’s knee to the top of her hip near the thigh. Then, they wrapped the entire leg so that it would keep still. They set the wrapped leg on a stack of pillows that Stigg fetched from the den.
Next, Fanndis examined Arna’s head. She felt as gently as she could around the back of the girl’s skull and felt an enormous bump—Arna probably had a severe concussion. She knew it was bad that the girl had fallen asleep and Fanndis promptly slapped Arna across the cheek. That didn’t work. Fanndis resorted to the Seidh and put both hands on either side of Arna’s face. She willed herself to enter her pupil’s mind and aroused her consciousness. Arna’s eyes fluttered open and grew wide as she screamed in her pain. Stigg bristled at the sound, his body tensing.
“Arna, your leg is broken and the pain will be intense for a few moments. We’re getting something for the pain now. How is your head?” Fanndis spoke slowly and loudly so the girl’s eyes focused only on her.
“My….head…” Arna mumbled, dazed.
“Does it hurt?” Fanndis prompted.
“I’m…dizzy…” Arna said, trying to stay focused on Fanndis, who currently had two heads.
“A concussion; I’m sure of it,” Fanndis said to Stigg and the wolf. “We’re going to give you something for the pain. It will make you sleepy,” the old woman continued as she nudged Arna and carefully guided her back down to the pillow.
While Stigg watched over the girl, Fanndis went about the kitchen gathering herbs: hops, lavender, and devil’s claw to mix a powerful painkiller. She took the kettle from the fire hook and immediately poured it into the powdered herbs. It made a strong tea for Arna to drink. After three or four minutes, the old woman supported her apprentice’s head and helped her sip the tea until Arna had drunk all of it. While the girl started to doze off, Fanndis quietly asked Stigg to ready the bed in the back of the cottage. While her son did as he was asked, Fanndis requested that the wolf watch Arna while she went into the room with Stigg to make a sun spire to keep the girl warm through the night.
Since Fanndis had not fashioned a spire big enough to support the sun she needed to make, she had to make do with a broom propped between two chairs. Fanndis summoned as much energy as she could and moved her hands in spherical motions, as if she held a great orb between them. Within seconds, a bright, hot, brilliant sun sphere spun between her hands. She set it to float above the broom handle and anchored the sun she had made to her make-shift spire with a hovering spell. When the room had heated through and there were enough blankets on the bed, they brought Arna in and set her on top of the covers. The sun spire’s warmth would keep her comfortable enough and the leg needed to remain uncovered. Though the sun spire warmed the room, it did not glow very brightly. Fanndis asked it to burn a dim orange so that it would not wake the girl.
Stigg watched over her throughout the night, with Fanndis checking in on her every hour or so to make certain that the leg was not infected. Arna had been very lucky that the wolf had been guarding the greenhouse. It was unfortunate, however, that he had been the unintentional cause of her injuries. Yet, if he had not been there, they might never have found the girl. As soon as they had her down in the bed to sleep, the snow storm began to beat and whip the cottage with savage winds and sheets of ice. The air howled viciously and Fanndis gave credit to Stigg’s thatching that the roof did not cave in. Stigg knew he would have to go on the roof in the morning and shovel the snow off the thatching so it would not buckle and break under the thick blanket.
The night passed slowly for Fanndis and her son. By morning, they were both exhausted, but Arna was not stabilized yet. The storm had calmed to a gentle snow shower by dawn. Stigg finally ordered his mother to bed, though she fough
t him every step of the way to the sleeping pallet by the hearth. Within minutes, she had dozed off. Stigg returned to the bedroom and sat in the chair by the bed. Arna breathed normally; no sign of fever, and her heartbeat was strong. He knew he should sleep, but instead, he took her small hand in his hands and prayed that she would get better. All was quiet well into the afternoon.