Page 16 of Heart of the Mountain King

"I'd like that," Sten said with a small grin, the warmth of it doing inexplicable things inside Rask's chest as the bergsrå's magic wove blessings around Sten of Welcome and Friend into the Song.

△▽△▽△▽△

Chapter 6

A Predicament

△▽△▽△▽△

"Hello?" came Sten's voice over a burst of high-pitched yapping. "Is something out there?"

"Yes," Rask answered simply, maneuvering his way carefully down the rain-slicked hillside. "Sten lucky Rask not hungry varg."

Nevermind that no varg on Rask's mountain would dare attack Sten, not with notes of his Song ringing up and down these slopes declaring the little human WelcomeWelcomeWelcome and under the bergsrå's protection. Anything that lived within range would know better than to touch a hair on Sten's head now — not if they wanted to remain living.

But as for the mountain itself…

Rask's mouth flattened. Some things were beyond even the bergsrå's ability to control.

"Rask! Oh, thank Makros," Sten said as Rask drew near, his relief clear. He was wet and covered in mud, but otherwise appeared undamaged.

"Sten hurt?" Rask asked, just to be certain.

"No, I — well, yeah, a bit if I'm honest. Got turned around right before it started raining, sent me sliding down a muddy ridge in the dark. Mostly scrapes and scratches, and I might've twisted my ankle. But I'll be all right," Sten replied, sounding surprisingly pleased for someone so bedraggled. "Did uh… Did you come looking for me?"

Rask opened his mouth to answer but shut it just as quickly, the points of his ears burning.

Huddled under the dripping boughs of a tall pine, Sten was holding something close to his chest. The wriggling bundle of dark brown fur leaped from the man's arms, standing between its master and the approaching bergsrå as it yapped fit to wake the dead.

"Where Sten get small varg pup?" Rask asked, thankful for the interruption as Sten's attention followed the creature.

Sten laughed, startling the pup; its entire body going stiff and alert, before shooting its master an inquiring look.

"S'no varg," Sten corrected. "Just a dog, Rask. Shouldn't be any bigger than one of your goats when she's grown, and I've been told she can be trained not to bother them."

Kneeling on the sodden, pine-needle strewn ground, Rask held out his hand for the growling bit of fluff to sniff. Humming slightly, Rask wove the freshly spun notes around his fingers, matching his melody to the Song surrounding them. He made sure to leave small gaps, however; an invitation that left the pup tilting its head up at the bergsrå, simple curiosity swiftly overtaking its fear.

Not that it proved any less protective, nor even the smallest degree less loyal; glancing back at Sten before creeping cautiously closer to sniff at Rask's upturned palm. Then it was as if a dam had burst, as the canine cheerfully licked and rubbed its jaw against Rask's fingers. Her own melody joined in as well; bright, trumpeting brassy notes, before she leaped back to give a single, playful bark.

"What pup's name?" Rask asked the dog, but she leapt away, and it was Sten who answered.

"Well, according to our Bargain, I'm to deliver a bottle of brännvin to your cave each season for a year, right? So, meet my messenger. Been calling her 'Messy' for short," Sten chirped brightly. "Our Bargain never specified how much brännvin I'm supposed to supply. So I thought, if I brought her up with me each time I visited and trained her to find you, then come Mistide when she's grown up a bit, she might just be able to carry a small bottle attached to her collar without too much trouble. Won't hold more'n about a mouthful, but hopefully that'll be enough to suffice."

"Big trust in one so little," Rask pointed out.

"Yeah," Sten laughed weakly. "Still the best idea I've come up with so far, though. The whole village has been pitching in with all kinds of schemes, actually. It's become quite the popular pastime at Ojson's pub. One of the shepherds nearby had a fresh litter of pups for sale, and I guess a couple of the workers from the quarry clubbed together to get one. Stopped by the house with her one morning before their shift. Don't think I've ever seen Ma cry so much as when they told her it was for me, as thanks for uh… for what you did with the vættir…"

"Sten too," Rask corrected him. "Sten very brave, Bargaining with bergsrå for help."

"Oh, that's…" Sten coughed. "Anyways, I figure that makes her partly yours, too. So if you have a different suggestion of what to call her, she's still young enough we can probably change it."

Messy gave a sharp bark, catching Rask's attention. He glanced over to see the pup lolling on her back on the ground, wriggling happily in the thick layer of old pine needles carpeting the forest floor. She half-rivaled a hedgehog for how many needles were stuck in the fur, and Rask didn't envy Sten the job of plucking them all out.

"'Messy' good name," Rask decided as the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile. "Rask can help train, if Sten wishes."

"Very much so!" Sten laughed. "She doesn't seem to listen to me."

"Then Sten bring Messy to Rask to learn to listen too." Rask nodded.