[Ealasaide]

Ragnar lay on his back on the roof gazing up at the fluffy white clouds that floated by overhead against the backdrop of azure sky. His arms ached pleasantly from the hard work of hauling the water buckets up to the roof, but not so that he couldn't do it all again should the necessity arise. Since the fire seemed virtually extinguished along with the threat it offered, however, he felt no urgency to get moving again. It was pleasant up on the roof. The sun was warm, the smoke smell not too bad, although he knew his own clothes were laced with it. He sighed and laced his fingers behind his head. It seemed ironic that something so tragic as the fire should happen on such a lovely day.

Finally, he sat up again and looked down at the activity still taking place in the inn yard. He could see Olav along with some of the other men and women still working at putting out the last smoking embers of the fire. The blond girl who had helped at hauling buckets over to him was huddled on the ground some distance away, hugging a sheepdog. He watched as she raised her head and pointed a blond kid in the direction of the assistant innkeeper, then dropped her head again. Something about her didn't look quite right. Since Olav seemed busy and Ragnar didn't really know anyone else, he decided he would check on the girl. Pulling his feet up, he walked over to the tree and, with the grace of a cat, swung himself down through the branches to the ground.

When he reached the girl, he knelt down beside her and, to be on the safe side, held out a loose fist to the dog. "Hey," he said to the girl. The dog gave his fingers a suspicious sniff.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She raised her head and he was instantly struck by the paleness of her skin. She nodded. "The smell got to me."

He nodded. "Yeah. It's pretty nasty. Nothing like roast horsehair."

The girl blanched and lowered her forehead into the crook of her elbow.

"Sorry," he added.

"No, it's not that." The girl's muffled voice answered. "It's just...it's just the other fire."

Startled, Ragnar looked around. "What other fire?" The fire was out. What other fire? He glanced toward the roof of the inn, but it yielded no evidence of smoke or fire. In fact, nothing except the charred rubble of the stable showed any hint of fire. The girl shook her head.

"At my uncle's place when I was seven. It smelled just like this. I had forgotten until the wind turned..." she paused and swallowed hard. Ragnar watched as her shoulders contracted in a dry heave. He reached out a hand to touch her back, but withdrew it abruptly as the dog growled deep in its throat. He noticed then that the dog had mismatched eyes, one blue and one brown, both of which watched him with threatening intensity. Very slowly, he lowered his hand.

"They lost horses?" he asked gently.

The girl shook her head. "Just a sweet old plow horse named Daisy," she answered to the contrary of her gesture.

"Well, that's not too bad."

"And two of my cousins." Her shoulders shook again with another dry heave. "Ingmar and Ilsa. Ilsa was just three. My uncle never got over it.”

“Oh...” Ragnar answered helplessly. He didn’t know what to say to that. He had never been good at comforting people. For lack of any other ideas, he started to raise his hand to make another attempt at touching her back, but lowered it again at the sight of the dog’s curling lip and white canines. The dog growled again, but this time the girl gave her a quick squeeze.

“Hush, Kajsa.” The girl swallowed again, obviously trying hard not to breathe.

The dog stopped growling, but, unseen by the girl, continued to bare her teeth in Ragnar‘s direction. Ragnar sat back on his heels.

“You’re not sick,” the girl said suddenly.

“What?”

“I saw you up on the roof swinging your feet. The innkeeper thought you might be ill.”

“Oh,” Ragnar grinned. “Nah. Not sick.”

“Why aren’t you helping with the fire, then?”

Ragnar shrugged. “I will. I did. But right now, I’m helping you.” He stood up. “If your dog would let me, I’d get you out of the main draught of the wind. You’d feel better.”

With her face still buried in the crook of her arm, the girl nodded. Carefully, she let go of the dog and pushed herself to her feet, picking up the little bundle she had been using as a hassock. She leaned heavily on Ragnar’s arm when he offered it and, slowly the two of them made their way out of the portion of the yard that was directly downwind from the stable. Instantly, the girl began to breathe easier. The dog, however, continued to regard Ragnar with narrowed eyes. It began to strike Ragnar as comical.

Still helping the girl along, he threw a glance over his shoulder to see what Olav was up to, only to find him standing still in the smoking ruins of the stable, watching him, his feet planted firmly in the ashes and a dark scowl on his face. Ragnar grinned and dropped him a wink.