North Child (45 page)

The story that Rose told was extraordinary. If I had not known Rose and known that she does not lie, I simply would not have believed her. Trolls, “softskins”, shattering ice palaces, and something called
kentta murha
. Truly the stuff of nightmares.

The man who used to be a white bear was quiet and pale, and though clearly he was happy to be freed of his long imprisonment, there was still a lost look about him, as if he was not sure where he fitted. He and Rose were awkward with each other, though I could tell there was much feeling between them.

On our way south we stopped at the village of Neyak. Malmo and a delegation of her people were waiting for us on the shore. It had been Malmo who had told us where to seek Rose.

We had found Malmo – or rather she had found us – as we were making our way north along the coast of Gronland. She and several of her people came out in small two-person boats and gestured at us until we understood that we were to follow them. When we had dropped anchor and gone ashore, Malmo went directly up to Father and told him where to look for Rose.

I had no idea how Malmo knew we had come in search of Rose, or how she knew where to find her, but it did not occur to me to doubt her. She gave us “maps”, carved out of walrus tusks, of the coastline. (Father later remarked that they were extraordinarily accurate, some of the best mapping work he had ever seen.) Malmo also indicated we should turn inland at something called Tatke Fjord. Which is where we found Rose.

After arriving in Neyak and being greeted by Malmo, I went to look for Thor. I found him working on his ship. He was assisted by two friendly young Inuit men, to whom he had taught all his favourite drinking songs.

An older handsome Inuit woman brought a substantial meal at midday, which they shared with me, and I thought I detected a shy sort of understanding between Thor and the woman.

He told me quite frankly that after I had left, he drank up every drop of ale remaining on the broken-down
knorr
, but that he hadn't had anything stronger than reindeer milk since. Initially he got quite sick, he said, his body not being used to an ale-free diet, but the people who had become his friends – especially the handsome woman, whose name was Rekko – had taken him in and seen him through the sickness.

“I've gotten used to it here,” he said gruffly. “Think I'll stick around. And once I get the
knorr
fixed up, I might even start a small trading business, between Gronland and Iseland. Should keep me out of trouble. For a while anyway,” he added with a grin.

I told Thor about Gest, that he had survived the storm (it was information from Gest that had led Neddy and Father to Gronland), and Thor was amazed.

“By Odin, I'd never have thought it possible! Well, that'll be my first voyage, then. Find the old scoundrel and see if he fancies going into business together.”

I smiled.

I brought the white bear to meet Thor, and for some reason they took to each other right away. Maybe because both men had been lost for so long, Thor understood him better than any of us. The white bear even pitched in to help fix Thor's ship. He had never done work of that kind before, but he was strong and a quick learner, and it was clear he was glad of something to do.

It was an odd time, our short stay in Neyak. Father, Neddy, Soren, and I were preoccupied with figuring out what to do about the people we had taken away from Niflheim. There were seventeen survivors, and they were from all over the world. The two Njorden were the simplest to sort out, because they could tell us exactly where they had lived. And the same was true of the three from Fransk. But the others were more complicated. Malmo helped with the different languages, and the maps Father had with him were useful as well, but there were two whom we simply could not figure out. One was the young woman who had been on the sleigh with me when I had first gone to the ice palace, and the other was an older woman with flame-coloured hair. These two, we decided, would simply come home with us (and they both were quite pleased with the arrangement), while we would make every effort to return the rest to their original homes.

Soren suggested that once we got to Suroy, the first big port in our southward journey, it wouldn't be too difficult to find each a passage to his or her home. And he was willing to pay all expenses. I saw then just how immensely generous Soren was, and I understood how lucky our family had been to meet up with him.

I did not know how those returning home would explain their disappearance. Who would believe the true story? Even the crew of Soren's ship – those who had seen us emerge from Tatke Fjord, a motley group in animal-skin coats speaking a wide array of languages and accompanied by some rather extraordinary reindeer – even they had difficulty believing our tale.

At least, I thought, those seventeen people would most likely have homes of some kind to return to. And unlike the white bear, they knew their names.

I had made up my mind. I would go away.

In Suroy we were able to find passage for all but four of the people who had been enslaved. Three were from Fransk, and the fourth from a small inland country that had no coastal port. The man called Soren had been exceedingly generous. He reminded me of a good and gentle shepherd leading a herd of stray lambs back to their folds. The three from Fransk he decided to take home himself in the ship called
Rose
, travelling directly to La Rochelle before returning to Njord. And the one who lived inland, Soren supplied with provisions and enough gold pieces to make a good start towards his destination. I was sure he would do the same for me, but I could not ask without giving away my plans. And I did not want anyone to know I meant to go. Especially Rose.

I knew that if I was to look into those purple eyes, I would not be able to leave her.

In my days of wandering the world as a white bear, I observed much about the ways of men and women – and I knew that for me to start a life on unequal footing with Rose was to court disaster.

I must at least know my name.

Fransk was where I would begin my search. The one thing I knew about myself was that I had been a prince. The pale queen had told me one day when I said to her that I felt inadequate to rule the land of Huldre. “But you have royal blood,” she said. “You were a prince in the green lands.”

A prince in Fransk. More than a hundred years ago.

But I thought I'd be able to find someone in Fransk who knew of a long-ago king with a son who had “died” prematurely. I had been having more frequent flashes of memory the farther south we travelled, and I thought it was even possible that I might recognize the place where I had grown up.

I had no intention of trying to reclaim a royal title. I would have been thought a raving lunatic if I even attempted to convince anyone I was Prince So-and-So of the previous century, not to mention being ushered off to the nearest madhouse. Fortunately, my brush with potential kingship in Huldre had left me thoroughly disinterested in royalty of any kind. No, whatever form my life took, I wanted it to be a simple one.

I had decided to go to the castle in the mountain, though it seemed unlikely the castle would still be there. It was possible the Troll Queen had not taken me too far from where I had originally lived. Whether that was true or not, I thought it a good place to start.

My plan was to slip off the ship after it docked in La Rochelle. I would depart well before dawn and make a good start before anyone was awake. I wanted to leave a note for Rose, but when it came time I found myself unable to. What could I say? “Dear Rose, I go to find my name. Hope to return in a year or two. Yours truly, the man who was once a white bear.”

No, I decided, it was better just to go. After all, she might be relieved.

I did not sleep well that night and thus had no problem rising before dawn. I gathered the few belongings I had decided to take with me – including my flauto – made my way through the silent ship, and descended the gangplank.

I awoke at dawn, which in itself wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the way I sat bolt upright feeling that I'd been smacked across the face.

I jumped out of bed and dressed with an urgency I didn't understand. I left my room quietly and made my way down the hall. Suddenly I stopped, not sure exactly where I was going. I stood like a hunting dog sniffing the air, trying to figure out the direction in which its quarry lay.

Then I knew. I made my way to the room where the white bear had been sleeping. Silently I opened the door. In the dim light from the porthole I could make out the slumbering forms of two sailors. But the third bunk, the white bear's bed, was empty.

In some odd way I had been expecting it. But I was flooded with despair anyway. He'd said nothing to me – no goodbye, nothing.

Then I saw something shiny lying on top of the neatly folded blankets of the empty bed.

I crossed the room. It was a silver ring, the one with
VALOIS
inscribed on it, the one I had worn on my thumb throughout the long journey. He had left it for me.

I grabbed it up, stuck it on my thumb, and left the room.

I returned to my quarters, got my cloak, then left the ship.

There were many people already on the docks, but none of them had seen a man with golden hair wearing a coat of white fur. How long ago had he left? Could it have been as long ago as the night before, right after the last person had retired for the evening? I felt suddenly cold and wrapped the cloak tighter around my shoulders.

Was I going to have to seek him all over again? I felt a rush of anger. Why would he disappear like that, in the middle of the night with no explanation or even a goodbye?

I stopped midstride.
Perhaps I should let him go,
I thought.

Then I remembered his face those past few weeks, strained and pale, and my anger softened. Maybe this was what he needed to do.

As I was walking along the road leading out of La Rochelle, an old farmer and his son came along in a wagon and offered me a ride. It turned out they were travelling in the same direction, and I was very grateful for their kindness.