Kris (29 page)

Then Canute added an air of apology to his words. “We didn't know it was a lost boy, or we would have helped him.”

“Thank you,” I told Canute and his men. “I must set out for the fjord immediately to search for him.”

“Eat first. You need the strength.”

The wolves moved relentlessly through the forest searching for small animals they could feast upon. But the cold forest floor offered little promise they would find what they were seeking on this night. They wove in and out of shadows like phantoms that appeared and disappeared at will. Any creature that should try to avoid them would have little suspicion of their numbers or their stealthy approach.

The pack leader changed his course and climbed up onto the slope that led to the rocky shelf jutting out beyond the forest's edge. The other wolves followed his path through the white mist, and soon the ridge was dotted with moving shadows that passed between and disappeared among the greyback boulders and glided along the open spaces between them.

At the crest of the ridge, the pack leader surveyed the land below. The full silver moonlight cast across the vast expanse of rock and forest leading to the fjord. And then as the others joined him near the highest
point, the wolf caught a trace of movement in the distance. It was too far away for him to know precisely what it might be, but he could see something move slowly across the snow, signaling that it was alive and easy prey.

The wolf watched the creature continue in its journey and howled in his anticipation of the kill, and the other wolves joined in chorus as their songs of hunger changed into a statement of intent.

I startled awake, immediately guilty for having fallen asleep.

The men were packing the camp. “You needed the moment of rest.” Canute handed me a cup of warm broth.

I quickly drank, feeling better for the warmth, and went to check on Sebastian.

Canute looked at the satchel on Sebastian's pommel as I handed him his cup. “We heard stories from the strangers. They said the man they looked for was the one who brought toys to children in the villages.”

I looked into his eyes to assess his meaning and intent and listened as he continued.

“They was fearful of the plague,” he said.

“Plague drives fear through the hearts of many men, especially those easily consumed by fear.”

“Well, we ain't the fearful type,” Canute said. “And I can see as you are not fearful either.”

“No. Not fearful. But concerned for the boy. For his safety.”

“You may not have the plague, but you are not well. Your illness should be your concern too,” Canute said.

“It is just the wet weather leaving its mark,” I said, suppressing a cough.

“Out here the cold and wet weather will kill you surer than the wolves.”

“Well, I will continue on as my strength allows. It is important the boy is found.”

“Yes, it is.” Canute said.

“And what of you?” I asked. “What brings you to this distant place? And why do you persist?”

“We are hunters,” Canute said. “So, we are here to hunt. And, now we hunt for a child, with you.”

“We heard many stories of you,” Jorgen blurted out.

“Stories?”

“Yes,” Vegar said. “Of the man they call the Santa.”

“And, do you think I am the Santa?” I asked.

“Yes.” Jorgen said. “Some say he wears a great red coat.” Then he paused to look me over. “And you wear such a coat.”

“You leave behind a long trail of stories,” Canute said.

“In my village, children wait for you each year,” Jorgen added. “Their parents tell them to be good or the Santa will not come.”

“And I tell Jorgen to be good or the Santa will pass him by too,” Vegar said. “But, it don't matter much, 'cause Jorgen is still a bad boy.” He laughed as Jorgen pointed a thick finger to caution him.

“I am just a toy maker,” I said. “I am no saint.”

“But children dream because of you,” Vegar said.

“They dream because there is much to dream about,” I said “and many miracles to behold.”

“These men who wish to harm you do not understand miracles,” Canute said.

“Maybe not,” I agreed “but perhaps one day they will experience one.”

“Yes,” Canute said, “and they will learn that miracles exist even in things they fear. Like gifts and toys and joy brought to them by the Santa.”

“Canute, Jorgen, Vegar,” I said to them directly. “Let's be on our way.”

“There are places to shelter near the fjord,” Canute announced as he leapt into his sleigh. “The weather is warmer there, as the wind comes from the west off the currents in the water. If the boy lives, I think he will have gone to shelter.”

“Then we shall go there,” I said. “And we will find him.”

“How do you know we will find him?” Vegar asked.

“Because I believe in miracles.”

Jacob and Thatcher roused the men from their cold sleep on the frozen earth.

“We haven't had much luck, Jacob. We've lost the first few days of Christmas,” Thatcher said. “How about we let the men go home and spend the rest of the holiday with their families?”

“What if he carries the plague?” Jacob demanded.

“Then I'll be a horse's keister, because I don't think this man would put our children in danger for anything,” Rolf spat from behind them.

“You don't know that,” Jacob retorted.

The sounds of breaking branches and the gallop of a fast-approaching horse broke the silence of the morning. Percy rode at full speed from the trees, leaping from the horse's back and landing at the feet of the men.
He had aged from the day before and looked as if he'd ridden through the night.

“It's Olaf,” Percy shouted.

Pel guided his sled along the forest's edge. Haakon, Baldur, and Eilif drove their sleds behind him and fanned out across the open ground as their reindeer surged ahead. They had searched the major forest trails, but Pel began to doubt he would discover Olaf in this manner. He issued a shrill cry to the others, who slowed in response. At his signal, they moved closer together once more and stopped to examine the options before them.

Pel told the other men he worried about Kris and felt they would do better by reconnecting with him. He decided they would circle back toward the fjord in an effort to find Kris and the boy. “If the boy is alive,” Pel said to his men, “the wolves already have discovered him.”

As Pel positioned himself in the sled, he signaled to Baldur, Eilif, and Haakon, and they charged off once more in an effort to find Kris and Olaf.

Olaf marched through the slushy snow, dragging the sled with his satchel on his back. Wolfie lagged behind. Olaf was unsure what to do except to walk ahead and look for shelter or someone to help him.

“You stay right beside me, Wolfie!” And Wolfie wagged his tail and marched along with Olaf as they continued through the slush.

Olaf was unaware that the wolves were following them now and watching every move, waiting patiently for a time to sweep in and attack.

As he trudged forward, Olaf shared his thoughts with Wolfie, who was an eager listener, tail and ears at attention. “We have to find Santa,” he said. “If we can tell him what happened at the Christmas gathering and warn him, maybe it will keep him from getting into trouble with Papa and the men from the village.”

Wolfie seemed to agree with that idea, and so Olaf convinced himself once more that he was doing the right thing.

But after walking for a considerable distance, Olaf began to tire, his hunger grew, and his pace began to slow. Wolfie barked at him to encourage him forward. This triggered a response in the wolves as the pack leader began to howl and other wolves joined his song to announce they were not far behind.

Olaf heard the wolves and began to run, with Wolfie keeping pace beside him. He was breathless with fear as he could tell the wolves were coming closer with every chorus of howls.

The wolves became excited now too and raced ahead, spreading out across the snowy plain to circle around Olaf so they could begin to close in on him.

Olaf pulled the ice axe from his pack as he stopped briefly to take several deep breaths and look for someplace where he might be safe. He was terrified as he listened to the wolves calling to one another in the dim light. As he looked ahead, Olaf could see the land slope down to a lower elevation where it met with a wide river. He could hear the wolves howling and yelping from almost every direction now, and he was not sure which way to go for safety.