Passive (Volume 2) - ON HOLD

5-Ella

*Ella*

10th of Wolf Moon, 436 AC

Northern Reynes to the Shadow Isles

As winter progressed, the band of Veturmenn that escorted their king and his new bride from Akara in the far south all the way back to the Shadow Isles moved further and further north. Ella, who had thought that she'd become accustomed to the Veturmenn's brisk traveling pace, found her skin chapping in the bitter wind. The dry patches cracked and bled as winter's grasp on the land worsened.

In the early days of Wolf Moon, they'd reached the tundra that made up the northernmost region of the Reynish Empire. The further they pushed, the more barren the land became, until the only cover came from small, twisted pines that grew further and further apart. At night, the fires were lit from caribou dung they came across, and wolves howled at the fringes of their camp.

A pair of massive timber wolves–one white, one black–broke past their defenses and went for some of the horses. Ella and Tollak had been nearby, and Tollak speared the black one. He handed his massive bow to Ella in a show of trust. She wasn't the world's best hunter, but since her son's birth, she'd improved, and the white wolf was at point blank range, so she shot it. Tollak skinned both, and she turned the black pelt into a cloak for her husband. When she offered it to him, he pulled off his old cloak, right then and there, and replaced it with the one she'd made. Next, she made the white pelt into her own cloak, since she didn't have a fur wrap or cape yet.

At night, she and Tollak slept in each other's arm, fully clothed, with their son, Eirik, between them. They didn't make love anymore; it was too cold and their days too hard. Neither of them had the energy. During the day, Ella rode with Eirik cocooned against her chest, his sling tucked between her coat and her shirt, with the white cloak draped over both of them.

Ella had never thought of herself as being particularly maternal, but she could not deny her love for her son. She stopped often, during the day, to feed him and to make sure he was warm enough. He was, she thought, the most even-tempered baby she'd ever heard of. He rarely cried, only looked up at her through dark eyes so like his father's, rosebud lips pulling back into a beautiful, toothless smile whenever he saw her.

As Wolf Moon wore on, and they continued north, Ella learned to ignore her discomfort as they rode, and to rub a special balm into her chapped hands, feet and face when they stopped at night. Soon, her hands toughened, and no longer cracked and bled. Her lips remained raw, and the skin around her eyes, which grew pink and chapped easily, but the rest of her skin soon became softer with the liberal use of the balm.

Finally, one day, as they rode along the coast, icebergs dotted the ocean for as far as the eye could see, Tollak drew the company to a halt and turned to Ella. "Look," he said, pointing at the northwestern horizon. "Just there," he went on. "That dark little spot? That's the nearest of our islands. We will reach our ships tomorrow."

Ella squinted at where he pointed, and could just make out, in the sea of blue and white, a dark speck that, if Tollak hadn't pointed it out, she would have missed. "I see it," she said, her heart pounding. They were nearly to her husband's kingdom, and that little black dot on the horizon was her first glimpse of it. Soon, they would be rallying their men and would sail on Valoria. Soon, she would have her birthright back. She smiled.

As the rode on, the island became more distinguishable from the sea around it, and Ella thought she could see cliffs and trees upon it, but it might just have been her imagination. They made camp earlier than usual, and the men split into two groups. Some fished from the cliffs, pulling dinner from the icy sea below. The others, led by Tollak, organized themselves for the hunt.

Ella left Eirik with her handmaidens and sidled up beside her husband. "My love," she whispered in his ear. "Do you think I might join you on this hunt?"

Tollak raised an eyebrow. "You want to come with us?" he asked. "Ella, my heart, we will be going on foot, and it will be hard. We will be tracking a herd of caribou. Their tracks are fresh, but it won't be easy going in this snow."

Ella squared her shoulders. She was much stronger now than she'd ever been, and she knew she was ready. "Yes," she said firmly. "I want to come, Tollak. Your men won't ever respect me if I don't participate in tribal activities. Right now, they see me as the beautiful foreigner you married. Let me prove I am more than that."

Tollak wrapped an arm around her waist, and she looked up at her, practically straining her neck to meet his gaze. She always forgot how tall he was until she stood next to him. "Fine, my love," he said, though he looked less than pleased about it. "You may come. But you must stay close to me and not wander off. It would be easy to get lost out here."

Ella was more than willing to make that concession. "Thank you," she said, rising onto tiptoes to kiss him. "I won't disappoint you."

Soon enough, they set out, following the tracks the caribou had made. Ella and Tollak took the lead, setting the pace for the rest of the hunters. Every hunter carried a spear and a bow, and kept water skins at their waists.

The way they moved, together, yet far apart, reminded her of the way the wild hunting dogs of the desert around Akara hunted, closing in on their prey from all sides, cutting them off before the caribou even knew they were being flanked, then tightening their knot.

Ella ran alongside her husband, the freshly fallen snow muffling their footsteps as they moved in on the herd. They crested a small rise in the earth, and Ella got her first glimpse of the massive herd. Thousands of animals loped across the tundra, heading south for the winter. Her jaw dropped at the sight. The frozen ground appeared to have thawed into a river of brown as the herd moved, one gargantuan blight moving across the winter landscape.

Tollak drew her to a stop, one hand closed around her arm. "Look," he said, pointing to a smaller, grey shape, then another, and another. Ella squinted. Wolves flanked the herd like the hunters, slowly moving in for the kill. "We are not the only ones who are hungry," Tollak added, his voice bemused. "Perhaps my beautiful wife would like another wolf pelt for her collection."

Ella grinned mischievously. "Perhaps I would," she said slyly. "But wolf meat is no good, so perhaps these creatures will do us a favor and bring a caribou straight into our trap."

Tollak chuckled, then pointed. From their vantage-point, they could see a handful of Veturmenn waiting out the wolves, who chased, unknowingly, a young caribou straight into the hunters' grasp. One beast went down, an arrow in its flank, and the other wolves faltered. Ella drew her own bow and aimed, sending up a small prayer. Now was not the time to miss a shot.

She aimed, waiting for the perfect shot, and, finally, fired, her arrow flying straight and true into a grey wolf's flank. Tollak smiled at her and finished the last wolf off with his own shot, letting the other hunters spear the caribou.

Tollak and Ella trotted down the hill and helped the other hunters string up the caribou so they could bring it back to camp, and, in the hunters' eyes, when they turned their gazes upon Ella, she saw a burgeoning respect for their new queen.

That evening, once they'd returned to camp, dragging the caribou with them, they learned that four other caribou had been brought down, providing enough meat for the whole camp for their last night before they sailed for the Shadow Isles.

Unlike usual, Ella feasted with Tollak and the tribe that night, instead of with her handmaidens in her tent, like most nights. The men sang songs and the women danced, and Ella curled up in the crook of her husband's arms, her son in her arms, staring into the fire, its flames casting shadows upon her skin.

Soon, she knew, she would see her kingdom for the first time, and she knew that she would have to earn her people's respect, like her husband had done when he'd conquered the Isles. A small, triumphant smiled curled the corners of her lips.

Soon, she would finally be a proper queen.