Last weekend we left off with a servant insisting that Maja had to rest, so Jorgen had to stop asking questions. This week we skip a bit to Maja's thoughts after Jorgen has left the cave.
A voice in her head told her that she had saved lives, and that should count for something, but she could not help fearing that the entire village was a ruin now, and far more lives lost because of her presence. Her aunt and uncle would never have turned her away, but she might have found another place to hide, and they might live yet. Of course she did not know that they were dead. It only seemed likely. Her uncle would have fought, of that she had no doubt. Her aunt might have run to safety.
Maja beat her fists on the ground and let one tear fall down her cheek. If she had not stumbled over that root, she would at least be able to help search for others, and tend to the wounded.
As it was, she could only lie by the fire and wait for news to be brought. Perhaps she would not have been of much help, but anything would be better than being forced to wait and watch, unable to even rise from the pile of furs in which she had been deposited.
"Maja?" a small, thin voice called.
"I am here, dumpling." She called back, reaching a hand out to the youngest of her cousins. "What news?"
The little girl shook her head, but took the offered hand and sat near her. "None yet. Do you think Papa and mama..." she could not finish the question.
"We must have hope, little one." Maja pulled her close and placed a kiss on her soft golden hair. "They will be found."
"What if they are not?" tears sparkled in Dagmar's eyes.
Maja fought back a wave of grief; it was like her parents' deaths all over again. "Then you shall live with me, and I shall care for you." She snuggled the girl closer and prayed her aunt and uncle would be found alive.
That's my contribution for the weekend. See you around the 'hop.