Troll Mill (17 page)

“Ouch!” Peer yelped, laughing, glad to excuse the tears in his eyes.

Bjorn let go. He said sadly, “I don’t blame you for getting angry with me. I’ve been angry with myself. And most of the village is finding it hard to understand. They say the draug boat’s following me.”

“Yes, we’ve heard that from certain people,” Ralf growled.

“You mean Harald and Thorkell.” Bjorn shut his eyes for a second, as if there was something he didn’t want to see. “I’d like not to believe it. But … I don’t sleep very well. I hear things outside the house at night.”

“Things? What do you mean?” asked Hilde.

“Every night, they come wading to shore after dark and cluster around the house, dripping and whispering and picking at the door. I lie awake, listening, but I can never quite hear what they say. That’s why I haven’t come up the valley. In case they follow me.”

Peer felt cold.

“Nonsense,” said Ralf gently. “You’re not sleeping well, you’ve said so yourself. I’ll warrant you don’t eat properly, either!”

Bjorn shook his head. He looked down,
stroking Ran’s hair with his rough, blunt fingers. “No, no, they’re real.”

“But, Bjorn.” Hilde dropped to her knees beside him. “What’s this all about? What is the black seal Thorkell saw?”

“Ah, him,” said Bjorn with a slight shiver. “I’ve seen him too. That’s the one I have to watch out for, Hilde. That’s the same one I threw the harpoon at, seven years ago.”

Ralf snorted. “How can you know that?”

Bjorn looked at him steadily. “Because, the other evening, I went to take the boat out. But when I tried to run it down the shingle, it wouldn’t budge. It might as well have been filled with stones. I looked over the gunwale, and there was a big man lying down inside. He bared his teeth at me, and I gave a shout, and he bounded out of the boat and ran. I saw then the broken harpoon sticking out of his shoulder.”

Hilde clutched Ralf’s arm. Bjorn added, “It was after sunset. He ran into the sea. And I heard splashing and wallowing in the shallows. And if that’s what Thorkell saw, you can understand why I’m not too popular in the village right now.”

Ralf sat silently. “A strange story,” he said at last. “I don’t know what to say, Bjorn. If there’s anything in it, you need help.”

At that moment, the latch clicked noisily. They all jumped. Gudrun elbowed her way in, a basket over her arm.

“Gudrun!” said Ralf. “I thought you were still with Asa. Where’s Eirik?”

“I’ve given Asa a piece of my mind, which she won’t forget in a hurry,” Gudrun said. “I pinned her ears back, I can tell you! Eirik’s on the beach, playing with the twins.” She laid the basket down. “How are you, Bjorn? You look tired. I’ve brought some of our eggs. You sit there with the baby, and I’ll cook them for you.”

“Eggs?” said Bjorn appreciatively. “Now this is nice. This is very nice!” He leaned back, letting Ran sprawl on his chest, as he watched Gudrun scramble the eggs on a black iron skillet. A dreamy smile curled the corners of his mouth.

“Did I ever tell you what happened to Kersten once? She’d been out on the cliffs, climbing after gulls’ eggs. She’d got a tidy collection, and had nowhere to put them but in
her apron. So she was coming home, really carefully, holding up her apron with all these eggs in it. I was at the back of the house, and I heard her calling me. I didn’t know what she’d been doing, and I came around the corner behind her and put my arms around her to give her a great big hug. And the eggs went everywhere!” He laughed at the memory. “Splat, splat, splat! Wasn’t she annoyed! How she scolded me! She called me a clumsy bear, but she couldn’t help laughing.”

The merriment died from his face. He stared blankly into the fire. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. No explanation. No time to say good-bye. Just—gone!”

Hilde caught her breath. Now—now was the moment to say something! It had been so clear, so strong, that moment of joyful certainty. She knew she was meant to tell Bjorn about it.
But what can I say? We saw a seal, and it seemed to be telling us that everything’s all right? That the world is beautiful, and life and death are in their proper places? What will Pa think of that? He’ll just be angry with me for raising Bjorn’s hopes.

She hesitated too long. Gudrun wiped her
hands on her apron. “Give Ran to me, Bjorn, while you eat up your eggs, and then you can have her back. The little thing needs you. You’ve been a stranger for long enough. Surely by now you’ve given up looking for her poor mother?”

Bjorn took a mouthful of the hot, buttery eggs. He ate silently for a while, and then said stubbornly, “I’ve not given up, Gudrun. She’s out there among the skerries. Even if she’s forgotten me, even if she’s wild now and doesn’t remember—perhaps, if she saw me, she’d come back. I’m hunting her, and the black seal’s hunting me. It’s all a matter of time, now. One day soon, the boat will capsize, or a wave will swamp me. That’s how it will be. But I don’t regret a thing. I’d do it all over again! Not many fishermen live to be old, anyway.”

Gudrun threw down the skillet with a crash.

“Shame on you, Bjorn, for talking like that! Anyone would think you’d made up your mind to drown. Which you will, if you keep taking that little boat of yours out alone, and in all weathers. There’d be nothing surprising about that. As for black seals and draug
boats, fancy believing a word of anything dreamed up by old Thorkell and Harald Bowlegs! I thought you had more sense.”

“I’ve seen the seal myself,” said Bjorn gently.

“Anybody can see a seal!” Gudrun cried.

But Ma told us herself about how the gray seals can take mortal shape
, thought Hilde, puzzled.
Doesn’t she believe it anymore?

“Living like this is doing you no good at all,” Gudrun went on. She swung around. “Ralf, the boy needs help. Tell him! I’m surprised you haven’t already!”

Ralf blinked. “Tell him what, Gudrun?”

“My goodness!” Gudrun put her hands on her hips. “Tell him you’ll go with him to Hammerhaven to fetch his brother, of course. To fetch Arnë. What are you waiting for?”

Ralf’s face cracked into a huge grin. “Gudrun, you’re amazing!” He sprang to his feet like a dog set loose. “She’s right, Bjorn. What do you say? If you and I go in the boat, we can reach Hammerhaven tonight. If Arnë’s ashore, we’ll bring him back tomorrow. If he’s out fishing, we can wait for him.”

Bjorn began to object. “I can’t bring Arnë into this. He’s busy with the fishing. He has a
partner who depends on him.”

Gudrun rolled her eyes. “It’s very simple, Bjorn. If Arnë was in trouble, wouldn’t you want to help him?”

“She’s right again,” said Ralf. “He’s your brother, Bjorn. He’ll want to be here to help you.”

Very slowly, Bjorn nodded. “I should like to see him,” he admitted.

“Then we’re off!” Ralf rubbed his hands. “Two, three days—it shouldn’t take more. Get your boots on, man!” He stuck his head out of the door. “A light wind coming down the fjord, and the tide was high a couple of hours ago. If we leave now, we can sail out on the ebb and row into Hammerhaven with the flood.”

“But be careful,” said Gudrun, suddenly nervous. “The faering is such a little boat. You won’t go near the skerries?”

“Don’t worry.” Bjorn looked dazed, but happier, as though glad to be given a job he knew how to do. “I know the waters, Gudrun. We’ll bear out into the middle of the fjord before we turn south, to give the headland a miss, and after that, depending on the wind, we can row or sail into Hammerhaven. No
reason to fare as far out as the skerries.”

“You’re the skipper,” said Ralf cheerfully. “I’m just the muscle power.”

Peer stepped forward. “I’ll come too.”

He wasn’t sure why he said it. Mostly to help Bjorn, but partly to show Hilde that he wasn’t jealous, that he didn’t care if Arnë came back to Trollsvik. He stole a glance at her, but she was chewing a fingernail and frowning. What was she thinking? He couldn’t tell.

“Better not,” said Ralf. He put a hand on Peer’s shoulder. “We can’t have all the men going off together. You look after the family for me.”

“I will, Ralf!” Peer felt inches taller.

“Oh good,” said Hilde, “then you get the job of carrying Eirik back up the hill.”

They stood in a group on the shingle, watching Bjorn and Ralf drag the little faering down the dark bank of wet pebbles and into the water. The sail flapped and cracked as the two men jumped in. Bjorn scrambled into the stern and grabbed the steering oar.

“We won’t be long, Gudrun!” Ralf called. “Look for us tomorrow, or the day after!”

“Good-bye, Pa!” screamed Sigrid.

“Good-bye!”

The faering flew away from the shore. They saw Ralf turn his head, listening to something Bjorn was saying behind him. He was laughing.

Hilde turned to look at her mother. “Oh, Ma. Don’t worry. They’ll be all right.”

“I had to do it.” Gudrun’s face was white but resolute. “When I think of what those two boys did for us, the year Ralf was away—the way they stood up for us against your uncles, Peer—while nobody else in the village lifted a finger, although I will say most of them did turn out to search for the twins—and when I heard Asa saying that Bjorn brought all this upon his own head by marrying a seal-woman, as though poor Kersten had been some kind of monster—well, I couldn’t stand it, that’s all!”

“Of course you couldn’t,” said Hilde.

“I only hope Arnë can talk some sense into him,” Gudrun added.

“Then don’t you believe the stories?”

Gudrun sighed. “I don’t know, Hilde. But believing them isn’t doing Bjorn any good.”

They watched the faering diminish, cutting out into the middle of the wide fjord. The sun was westering. There was a bloom of haze over the opposite shore. The mountains there looked flat and shadowy against a sky the color of tin.

“Look!” Peer exclaimed. “Another boat.” A long way out, where the water and the hot afternoon air shimmered deceptively, he’d seen the dark line of a sail.

“Where?” Hilde squinted under her hand.

“I’ve lost it. No, there—see?” There it was, just a scratch on the brilliance. As they watched, it seemed to blur and vanish. Hilde shivered.
A six-oarer, with a dark sail
, she thought, suddenly cold as Asa’s words returned to her mind.
And it flickered in and out of sight like a butterfly’s wings….

Bjorn and Ralf were sailing confidently out toward the mouth of the fjord.

“Well, there they go,” said Hilde.

As they turned to begin the long walk home, Peer heard her say quietly, “And it’s too late now to call them back.”

GRUESOME GRINDINGS

C
ARRYING A STOUT
stick, Peer trod stealthily across the farmyard in the lingering evening light. The sun was down behind the trees. Smoke from the house rose mildly into the air, and a flight of starlings swung over the shoulder of Troll Fell and streamed overhead in a chattering crowd, wheeling home to their nesting places in the wood.

He was nearly into the shadow of the trees when he heard the brisk clap and thud of the house door as it opened and shut. He looked back and saw Hilde. “Peer!” she called. “Where are you off to?”

“Going for a walk.” He crossed his fingers.

“Without Loki?” She came across to join him.

“He’s tired. I’m letting him rest.”

“What’s the stick for? This is something to do with what Thorkell said, isn’t it? Are you going down to the mill?”

Peer gave an exasperated laugh. “Yes, but I want to go alone. That’s why I was creeping off, hoping no one would notice!”

“Not a chance.” said Hilde cheerfully. “I’ll come too.”

“No! Look, it’s probably only the lubbers mucking about, like they were before. I just want to go down quietly and see….” His voice faded.

“‘Like they were before?’” Hilde narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Peer felt himself flush. “You might as well know. The night I brought Ran home, the mill started grinding as I was crossing the bridge.” As he spoke, it all came back to him, that awful moment in the rain and darkness when he’d seen the millwheel turning and felt that the mill itself was somehow alive….

“You saw the mill working—at night—all by itself? And you never told me?”

“Not
all by itself,”
said Peer impatiently.
“It’s the lubbers doing it, and I did tell you about them.”

“You told me you’d chased them off. You never said a word about the mill grinding. So Thorkell was right! And you knew it, and you kept quiet. How could you, Peer?”

“I thought you’d worry. Besides, it only happened once.”

“Not according to Thorkell.”

“Who listens to Thorkell?”

“You do, apparently, or why are you sneaking off to the mill?” Hilde glared at him. “Now I see why you were so sure the machinery would work, the day we ground the corn. I thought it was odd at the time. It’s important, Peer! You should have told us!”

“Hilde, just let me deal with it. I’m not afraid of the lubbers. I scared them off with a kitchen knife once, when I was twelve years old.”

“What a hero!” Hilde flashed. “I can see you don’t need me. Never mind that the lubbers are loathsome, treacherous, nasty things that might creep up from behind and throttle you. Tra-la! What fun! I’ll just come along and watch.”