Читать книгу West of the Moon - Katherine Langrish - Страница 14

Chapter 8

A Day Out

BUT PEER DID not see Hilde again for a long time. Weeks passed. White windflowers sprang up in the birchwoods on the flanks of Troll Fell; the ploughed field above the mill sprouted with green barley, and still Hilde did not come riding down to the village, and Peer was kept far too busy to go walking up the valley to find her. He woke each morning sore and tired, and fell asleep at the end of each long day half dead with exhaustion.

One fine afternoon Hilde decided to take her little brother and sister down to the sea.

It was washday. Gudrun and Hilde had carried nearly every piece of clothing in the house to a place where a waterfall tumbled into a little pool. They had kilted up their skirts and trodden the clothes down till their legs were blue and aching. Bringing the dripping load back to the farm they found that Eirik, sitting outside the door in the sunshine, had nodded off. Unwatched, Sigurd and Sigrid had taken it into their heads to try riding the cow. They had untied her picket rope, scrambled on her bony back and allowed her to amble down the steep little valley where the wild garlic grew. She had gorged herself on the pungent leaves and flowers.

“The milk will taste of garlic for a week!” Gudrun scolded.

“We can make cheese,” suggested Hilde. “Ma, you need a rest. Let me get the children out of your way. We’ll take the pony and go down to the fjord, and you can sit in the sun and spin.”

“That would be lovely,” Gudrun agreed thankfully.

As Hilde led the pony downhill through the wood, the white trunks of the birch trees shone as if newly scoured and the brook flashed in the sunlight. Sigrid sang one song, Hilde another. Sigurd pounded the pony with his heels to make it trot. On leaving the woods the path slanted across the fields to the wooden bridge. The mill was working, clattering busily, and Hilde looked eagerly for Peer.

As it happened, Peer saw her first. He was cleaning the pigsty, a lean-to shed at the back of the mill on the other side of the millpond. Stripped to the waist, his ragged trousers rolled up, Peer shovelled out mud and smelly straw and cabbage stalks, while Bristles the boar basked against the wall, his hairy sides heaving. Resting for a moment to wipe sweat from his eyes, Peer saw Hilde and the children coming out of the woods. He almost ducked out of sight. Why did Hilde always have to see him this way, covered in dirt? But there were things he needed to tell her. He climbed out of the sty and waved.

Hilde waved back. “Hello! We’re going to the sea. Want to come?”

To the sea! Suddenly Peer didn’t care what his uncles did or said. A sunny afternoon with Hilde would be worth almost anything that could happen afterwards. He threw down his shovel. “I’ll catch you up,” he called, and Loki, who had been lying in gloomy boredom with his nose between his paws, jumped up wagging his tail.

Peer ran around the back of the barn, skirting a bank of green stinging nettles, and crept through the bushes till he was out of sight of the mill. He emerged on the path breathless, and fell into step with Hilde.

“Good for you!” she greeted him. “I hope you won’t get into trouble.”

“Oh, I will,” said Peer grimly. His face hardened. “I just don’t care any more.”

Hilde glanced at him. He was burned brown from working in the sun with his shirt off. He was covered with mud, and his trousers were nothing but rags. He looked thinner, taller and older. And Loki’s coat was rough, and his ribs showed.

“Oh!” she said, shocked.

Peer scowled, as though daring her to comment. “Loki doesn’t get enough to eat,” he said curtly. “Grendel gets it all.”

Hilde took the hint and changed the subject. “Meet the mischief-makers,” she said cheerfully. “My little brother Sigurd and my little sister Sigrid. Say hello to him, brats!”

“Hello,” said Peer, smiling. The two little children looked very alike, with pale fair hair and blue eyes. “Are you twins, by any chance?”

They nodded. “But I came first,” boasted Sigrid. “So Sigurd has to do what I say!”

“I do not!” Sigurd pulled her hair. They fell off the pony and wrestled in the road. Hilde and Peer dragged them apart. “Behave!” Hilde threatened. “Or Peer won’t come with us.”

“No, I’m coming all right,” said Peer. “I want to swim.”

Trollsvik was tiny compared to Hammerhaven, just seven or eight houses with streams of white smoke rising from their grassy roofs. A gang of dogs rushed up to sniff at Loki who instantly made five new friends. A woman came out from her door and threw a pail of water over her vegetable patch. Seeing Hilde she called out, asking how her mother was and whether they’d heard from Ralf. Peer stood shyly apart while they talked, but Hilde dragged his arm.

“This is Kersten, Bjørn the fisherman’s wife. This is Peer Ulfsson, Kersten, who has come to live at the mill.” Kersten smiled; she was very pretty, with long dark hair and green eyes, but Peer was embarrassed because he was so dirty, and glad when the conversation ended and she went back inside. Hilde tethered the pony, and together they crossed some low grassy dunes to the shore.

The wide fjord sparkled. Baby waves lifted themselves an inch or two and turned over with a clear splash on a narrow beach where every pebble seemed a different colour. A couple of faerings, narrow fishing boats, lay on the shingle. The twins squealed with delight and ran to pick up shells and seaweed. Peer breathed deep and gazed at the bright water and high mountains.

“I’m going in,” he said happily.

“It’ll be cold,” Hilde warned him.

“Who cares?” He ran into the water with a whoop. “You’re right! It’s freezing!”

Loki dashed up and down, barking at the waves in case they attacked his master. In a few moments Peer came wading out. “I’m clean,” he said through chattering teeth, “but I can’t stay in any longer. Let’s find a nice sunny boulder and sit down. There’s something I need to tell you.”

Wrapped in an old cloak which Hilde had brought to sit on, and munching bread and cheese which she had packed, Peer told Hilde about the flighty little Nis, and how he had promised to bring it some butter. He told about his meeting with Granny Greenteeth, and how she had revealed his uncles’ plan to sell Peer to the trolls.

Hilde was horrified. “They couldn’t!”

“Oh yes, they could. And that’s not all. The Nis found out that now it’s to be a double wedding. The old Gaffer’s son and daughter,” he explained carefully, “are marrying the Dovreking’s daughter and son.”

“Well?” asked Hilde, as he stopped.

“And it seems my uncles were very angry, because the Gaffer told them that the deal was off unless they could bring him a girl as well as a boy. You see, if he gives the Dovre prince a servant, he has to give the Dovre princess a maid.”

“So no gold for the Grimssons without a girl?” Hilde laughed in relief. “Then you’re safe.”

“I don’t know,” said Peer softly. “I think they’re going to find a girl. I think you ought to be very careful, Hilde.”

Hilde whistled. There was silence, except for the lapping of waves and the cries of gulls.

“So Troll Fell wants to impress the Dovrefell,” she said.

“With two human wedding presents,” Peer nodded.

“It’s unusual. I wonder what a troll servant has to do?”

“I don’t want to find out. I couldn’t bear —” Peer bit off his words. No need for Hilde to know how he dreaded being shut up in the dark.

Hilde began to speak, but was interrupted by excited shouts from Sigurd and Sigrid, who were playing around the boats. “Look! Look!” Another small boat was dancing in from the sea. Hilde jumped up, shading her eyes.

“That’s Bjørn’s faering. Look – can you see the seal following behind him?”

Squinting, Peer made out a dark dot in the waves.

“There’s always a seal or two following Bjørn,” Hilde told him. “People say they drive the herring to him. Some people even say that his wife Kersten was a seal woman, but my pa doesn’t think that’s true. Still, Bjørn and his brother Arne know more stories about the sea than anyone else. I wonder where Arne is? I can’t see him.”

Together they ran to help pull the boat up the beach. Bjørn was a short, stocky fellow with a strong friendly face, blue eyes, and untidy hair falling over his shoulders.

“Hello Hilde, my lass, who’s your friend? Hello sprats,” he said to Sigurd and Sigrid.

“Hello Bjørn. This is Peer Ulfsson, who now lives at the mill.”

Bjørn put out a calloused hand and Peer took it, liking him already. “The mill, eh?” was all he said, but his smile was sympathetic.

“Where’s Arne?” asked Hilde.

“Haven’t you heard?” Bjørn scratched his head. “He’s gone off south, and it’s your doing, Hilde, you and your father between you. He went on so much about how he wished he could have sailed on that blessed longship, that in the end I told him to go after it. ‘Take your boat,’ I said. ‘Ten to one you’ll catch them up, and even if you don’t, you’ll find another one to join. It’s the sailing season.’ So off he went. He’ll be back before winter.” He smiled at Hilde’s disappointed face. “But what’s this? A holiday? Light a fire, and I’ll join you. We can cook some fish.”

Sigrid and Sigurd ran to collect armfuls of driftwood and dry seaweed. When they had assembled a tangled pile, Bjørn struck sparks from his strike-a-light, and a fire was soon blazing. The fish were delicious. They all burned their fingers, but it was worth it. Even Loki gobbled his fill of the rich white meat and flame-blackened skins, and lay contentedly afterwards, licking his paws.

“Tell us a story,” begged Sigrid.

Bjørn lay on his back with his arms behind his head, soaking up the sunshine. “What sort of story?”

“A scary one!” said Sigurd.

Bjørn looked sideways under his lashes. And he told them about the draug, the phantom fisherman who sails the seas in half a boat and can be heard wailing in the storm winds when someone is about to drown. “Have you ever heard him?” breathed Sigurd. But Bjørn refused to say.

A cloud passed over the sun and a chill breeze sprang up. Hilde rubbed her arms and shivered. “I wish you hadn’t told that story,” she said to Bjørn, half-laughing. “I shall think about it now, and worry. I wish…” But she didn’t finish. “We’d better go. Thank you for the fish, Bjørn.”

“You’re welcome,” said Bjørn. He tousled the little ones’ heads, patted Hilde on the shoulder and clapped Peer on the back. “Good luck, friend!” he said.

“Thanks, I’m going to need it,” said Peer ruefully. He didn’t like to think what his uncles would do to him when he got back.