Kottr comes home

Sir Sigefrith had not even had the time to sit down at his desk when the door opened and Haakon and Heafoc came marching in.

“Uh oh! Good morning, runts. Sorry I missed breakfast. I – ”

Sigefrith grinned sheepishly and blushed. He had been obliged to have a “little talk” with Haakon several days before in order to clear up some confusion resulting from a few things the big boys had told him. It was the first “little talk” Sigefrith had experienced since he himself had been the small confused person, and he could say now that it was far more embarrassing for the big person. Moreover, the embarrassment was lingering, though Haakon seemed blissfully unaware of it.

“We overslept,” Sigefrith finished weakly.

“That’s all right,” Haakon said, swelling with self-​​importance. “But, Papa, I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?”

“Kottr came home.”

“There!” Sigefrith laughed. “You see? I told you he would be back again in the morning. He probably simply followed some lady dog home, and…” He blushed again. “Stayed for supper…”

“I know, Papa, but listen: when he came home he had blood all over his mouth and chest.”

“Blood! Oh dear…”

“And he wasn’t hurt at all,” Heafoc added.

Sigefrith was sick at heart. When he had been Haakon’s age, the old dog that had been his father’s had suddenly taken to killing sheep, and all young Sigefrith’s tears and tantrums could not save him from the fate of sheep killers. 

And he knew Haakon’s love for Eirik’s old dog was no less than his own had been then. Haakon and Kottr had grown up together.

But Haakon looked up at him with an expression of innocent confusion. He did not know what had happened to his dog, but he did not dream that Kottr might have sealed his own doom that night.

“Excuse me a moment,” Sigefrith said and went for the door.

He met the man he sought directly behind it.

“Thorric!”

His steward stopped and bowed.

“Have we heard of any sheep killed last night?” he asked softly, hoping the boys would not hear.

“Sheep?” Thorric cried and stepped into the room. “Is that what they were after?”

“Who were after?”

“The Wild Hunt.”

“What?” Sigefrith gasped.

“Haven’t you heard, sir?”

“I just got up…” Sigefrith said, and blushed at the mere presence of Haakon beside him.

“They were seen last night, all from the crossroads at Nothelm up to the cherry orchard hill,” Thorric said excitedly. “Dozens of riders, dozens of dogs – some are saying wolves! They galloped down the road from the crossroads to the field across from the church, and ran off that way.”

“Why wasn’t I told?”

“You just woke, sir…”

“Damn! Good Lord!”

“What about the sheep?” Thorric prompted him.

“The sheep? I thought… Haakon says Kottr came home this morning with his mouth all bloody. I thought, perhaps a sheep…”

Sigefrith did not want to think what he was beginning to think, but Thorric was not in the mood for discretion on this morning.

“Perhaps he ran with the Hunt?” Thorric said. “I only wonder what they caught…”