Troll Mill (16 page)

“And what about the odd thing Thorkell saw on the beach? Only a week ago—late evening, nearly dark. He’s coming along past the boats, and he hears something cough. He looks around, and he sees this big, dark shape heaving itself up out of Bjorn’s boat. It topples over the side and starts to drag itself along on the shingle, scrunching and moaning.

“Like a huge black seal it was, as far as he could see in the gloaming. But there’s something uncanny about it, and it’s coming closer
and closer, and he can’t hobble fast, old Thorkell. So he picks up a rock and flings it straight at the creature! At once the thing springs upright, taller than a man, and off it clatters on two legs, away down the shingle!”

Gudrun raised a skeptical eyebrow. There was a short silence. Asa wriggled on her seat and changed the subject. “So this is Bjorn’s baby, Gudrun,” she said, avidly studying Ran. “Is it true she’s a freak?”

“A freak!” Hilde gasped. “She’s quite normal!”

Asa’s face fell. “But I heard she has hair all over her body! And seal’s paws instead of hands. Surely that’s why Bjorn won’t have anything to do with her?”

Protectively, Hilde’s hands flew to cover Ran’s.

“You shouldn’t believe all you hear, Asa,” said Gudrun in a tight, calm voice.

“Well!” Asa bridled. “I wouldn’t dare to bring up a baby like that along with my own children, but you’ve always been bold, Gudrun. At least I suppose you’ve given up thinking of Bjorn’s brother, Arnë, for young Hilde. There’s a curse on that family now!”

“Hilde!” said Gudrun swiftly. “Why don’t you join the twins on the beach? Take Ran and go for a walk. It’s lovely out there in the sunshine!”

With a burning face Hilde scrambled up and blundered thankfully out into the hot sunlight. Behind her, she heard her mother begin in low scorching tones: “Now just you listen to me, Asa …”

“Give it to her, Ma!” Hilde stuck out her tongue at the house, hitched Ran up in her arms, and walked through the village and up over the sand dunes. Down on the beach to her right she could see Sigurd and Sigrid playing with Einar’s two little boys, throwing pebbles into the water to make them skip. They shrieked cheerfully and ran about. Beyond them, a couple of boats were drawn up on the shingle, and she could see Ralf and Peer talking with a small group of the village men. She couldn’t see Bjorn.

Moodily, she turned the other way. She kicked off her shoes and paddled through the stream where it fanned out over the sand. Stumbling, stubbing her toes, she picked her way over the big round pebbles above the
tidemark. Ahead, the cliffs under Troll Fell rose steeply out of the water, and the strand narrowed to a jumble of rocks at the point where the fjord met the open sea.

It was noon, boiling hot, and the tide was in. Splinters of light flew off the water like darts. Hilde marched on. She trod gratefully into the baking banks of seaweed, brittle on top, soft and slippery beneath. Sand fleas hopped over her toes. To her right, the sea curled over onto the strand and drained out through the pebbles with a crackling sound.

Farther along, the rocks became too big to negotiate while carrying a baby. A ridge of them ran out into the water like a knobbly backbone. With an effort, Hilde clambered up on to a big one shaped like the prow of a ship, rough to her bare feet, sharp, warm in the sun. She sat down with Ran in her lap, watching the waves. They tilted casually up against the rocks and burst into rich white fragments, spattering her with cold salty kisses. Then they sank back, and an exuberant tracery of foam swirled after them.

Hilde sat there, thinking poisoned thoughts.
Is it true, what Asa said? Bjorn doesn’t want Ran
anymore because she’s got seal blood? Is that why he hasn’t come to see her?
It seemed horribly possible. She dropped an angry kiss on Ran’s silky dark head.

She looked up, twisting her neck to see behind her. Farther around the point there were sea caves, dark hiding places scoured out by winter storms. But here the cliffs slithered to the shore in rubble and treacherous screes. Only gulls could set foot on the sunbaked, crumbling ledges. Her eyes followed the birds wheeling out from their nests, slicing the wind: guillemots diving, herring gulls and black-backed gulls quarreling in great tangled knots on the surface, screaming over the fish.

Hilde longed to scream too. At Asa—
Stupid woman!
At Arnë—
Because he’s forgotten me.
At Bjorn—
Why should we have to bring Ran to him? He should have come to us!
And at Peer—
Still gawping at me with sheep’s eyes!

Suddenly the gulls lifted, scattering into the air. Where they had been—Hilde’s heart gave a great skip and a thud—there was a shape in the water, drifting as long as a man … or a woman.

Kersten! Oh no, I don’t want to see! Kersten
drowned weeks ago!
Hilde scrambled to her feet in a panic. She stood upright on the rock, clutching Ran and staring, staring into the sea, all the skin on her body prickling with horror. There it was again, a dark mass glancing through a wave, floating just under the surface. Slick, slimy, glistening, it broke through in a formless curve. Hilde drew her breath to scream—

Then she saw. The shape bunched, twisted. A flipper smacked the water. There was a sharp exhalation of breath. A head rose from the waves, small, glossy, with huge shining eyes.

And looked at her.

Balanced on the rock, Hilde gazed into those wild, joyful eyes. Ran leaned forward in her arms, struggling. The sea swung upward, sank back. Overhead, the gulls screamed in circles, and the cliffs seemed to lean over, watching.

“K-Kersten? Is that you?”

Hilde’s whisper was too soft, too tentative, to be heard over the clap and crash of water on the rocks. She waited, trembling. Now something would happen. Some enormous
secret would be told, some sorrowful, dark message delivered. All would be explained.

This was meant to be. At last we will know. At last we will understand!

Then, as she held her breath, the seal was gone. She did not even see it go. The bright waves danced over the place where it had been, and the spray flew.

“Ran!” She turned the baby to her cheek, and both their faces were salty and wet. “Was that your mother?” Feeling Ran grasp her hair, she caught the little hand, holding it up. The sun shone scarlet through the thin, almost transparent webs of skin looping between finger and finger. Hilde closed the hand and kissed it.

“You, a freak?” she muttered. “How dare they! Come on, baby. Let’s go and find your father.”

SIGHTINGS

P
EER AND
R
ALF
sat on an upturned boat talking to Harald Bowlegs and old Thorkell.

“I just think some of you could go out with Bjorn!” Ralf was arguing. Harald, a spare, bony man with a bald pate and a ring of long, thin hair descending over his shoulders, wagged his finger at Ralf.

“It’s easy for you to talk, Ralf. You don’t live down here on the shore like the rest of us!”

“Bjorn’s doomed,” wheezed Thorkell. His white hair and beard fluttered in the breeze, and his pale blue eyes blinked and watered.

“That’s right!” Harald nodded emphatically. “He stole from the sea. Now he’ll pay the price. You think any of us want to pay it with him?” He glanced up and saw Hilde crossing the shingle toward them. He paled
indignantly. “She’s got that creature with her, hasn’t she? The seal brat! I’m off!” And he hurried away up the strand.

Hilde watched him go, with a disgusted toss of her head. She wanted to tell Ralf and Peer about the seal she had seen, but if she talked about it in front of old Thorkell, it would be all around the village in half an hour. “Where’s Bjorn?” she asked.

“At home, they tell me.” Ralf got up. “Well, Thorkell, we’ll go and knock on his door. Won’t you come too?”

Thorkell shook his head. “No, no. I’ll have nothing to do with him.” His pale eyes grew wide. “The draug boat’s a-following him, Ralf, drawn after him like a seagull to the plough, or a raven to a fresh carcass! Aye, it’s a-smelling out death, and it’s drawing closer. But you won’t be told. You’re rash folk. Even the lad!” He shot a sharp look at Peer.

“Me? What have I done?” Peer asked in surprise.

“Meddled with Grimsson’s mill, that’s what,” said the old man.

“It’s mine now,” said Peer rather stiffly. “You’ll soon find out, Thorkell—it’ll be a
great thing for the village to have it running again. We worked it yesterday, and it ran perfectly.”

“Oh, aye.” Thorkell pointed a gnarled finger at him. “Working at night, too, are you?”

“At n-night?” Peer stammered. “No.”

“I thought not!” Thorkell slapped his knee. “I thought you didn’t know. Well, it does work at nights, laddie! You’ve stirred up a heap of trouble there. I’ve heard it, when the wind blows off Troll Fell; I’ve heard it clack-clack-clacking away, working all by itself! A sound to make you shudder. I wouldn’t go past that place at night, not for a pocketful of gold!”

“And you’ve heard this often?” Peer asked. “Recently?”

“Many times.” Thorkell nodded fiercely.“Many times!”

Peer didn’t quite believe him. But he made up his mind then and there to slip down to the mill that evening and see if anything happened.

“Working, all by itself!” Thorkell repeated, glaring at them.

Ralf clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for the warning,” he said cheerfully. “Peer will keep his eyes open, won’t you, Peer? And now we’ll be off. Good day, Thorkell!”

He turned away, leaving Thorkell sitting on the boat, staring sourly after him. Peer and Hilde ran to catch up. “Daft old fellow,” Ralf was muttering. “What an old nanny goat he is. Your grandfather never liked him, Hilde, and no wonder!” At the top of the beach, he stopped.

“Now for Bjorn!”

“P-Pa,” Hilde stammered. “Asa says Bjorn doesn’t want Ran. Asa says—”

“I don’t want to hear what Asa says!” Ralf bellowed. “I want to hear what Bjorn has to say!”

“Yes, Pa. And …” Hilde hesitated, trying to frame her thoughts.
I saw a seal. Ran and I saw a seal, and I thought it would speak to us. I asked a seal if it was Kersten.

It sounded quite mad put into words. But she tried. “I was up near the point, Pa, sitting on a big rock with Ran, and a seal came. It was watching us.”

“Oh yes? Well, they’re curious beasts.”

“I know, but I just thought … I did wonder …”

“Did it talk?”

Hilde blushed. “No.”

“I thought not,” said Ralf. “Don’t mention it to Bjorn, Hilde. It really wouldn’t be fair.”

All the same
, thought Hilde, remembering the timeless moment when she’d been certain the seal would speak,
something special happened. Something I can’t explain.
She hurried along after her father, distressed, as though she’d been given a message that she couldn’t deliver.

Outside Bjorn’s house, Ralf knocked, and knocked again. Finally he pushed the door open and stepped in. Hilde and Peer followed. A thin column of smoke dawdled up from the hearth. Beyond, Bjorn lay on the bed, rolled in a blanket. His head was propped uncomfortably against the wall, as if he had fallen asleep while trying to keep awake. Ralf shook him gently.

Bjorn stirred, groaning. He sat up, scrubbing his fingers into his eyes, and tried to focus. “Ralf?” he croaked. Then his eyes
opened properly and he snatched at Ralf. “Is there news?”

“No. No, lad. We’ve come to see you, that’s all. Me and Hilde—and Peer. We’ve brought the baby; seems a while since you saw the little lass. She’s doing fine, as you can see….” Ralf talked on, in the soothing tone he would use to a startled animal, and Bjorn’s tense muscles relaxed.

“Sorry.” He sounded more awake now. “Haven’t slept much, lately.” He got up, stifling an enormous yawn, and saw Ran in Hilde’s arms.

“She’s grown!” was all he said, but even through the indoor gloom, Hilde saw his face soften.

“Go to Pappa!” she exclaimed, passing the baby over. Bjorn held her easily, tipping her back into the crook of his arm and tickling her. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Hello,” he whispered, bending his head over her. “Hello!” The baby waved her arms and gurgled.

Ralf put his arm around Hilde’s shoulders. “So much for Asa’s spiteful gossip,” he whispered in her ear.

Hanging back behind the other two, Peer
watched. Bjorn sat barefoot, the sleeves of his old blue jerkin pushed up, crooning to his child, who gazed back at him with wide eyes.

He’s not so very much older than me, after all
, Peer realized, shaken.
And he’s not some hero. He’s a fisherman. He’s never claimed to be anything more. But he’s good with a boat, and he’s brave, and he’s always been kind to me. Why couldn’t I see he was in a state of shock last time we met? Why did I lose my temper? And now—I don’t suppose he’ll want to be friends again….
There was a painful knot in his chest as he remembered some of the things he’d said.

“Thanks for coming to see me,” said Bjorn. His eyes met Peer’s. All of a sudden his face split into the old smile, tired but welcoming. “Hey, Peer!”

The tight knot in Peer’s chest shook loose. Whatever had happened between Bjorn and Kersten, whatever had been said or done, it didn’t matter anymore. This was just Bjorn, the same as ever. He took a deep, relieved breath. “I’m sorry, Bjorn. I was wrong, I—I didn’t understand.” He held out his hand, and Bjorn gripped it, hard enough to stop the blood flowing.