West of the Moon. Katherine Langrish
Gudrun, hush,” he began, but as she paid no attention he cleared his throat and thundered, “Woman!”
It worked. Gudrun raised a startled face.
“Will you be quiet?” Eirik demanded. He got to his feet in great excitement. “It’s not the trolls. It’s not the trolls, I say. It’s the Grimssons who’ve stolen our children away!”
“The Grimssons?” Gudrun asked in wonderment.
“Of course it is!” Eirik raised his stick and whacked it down. “What did you tell us about them, Hilde? Didn’t they want a pair of children? And isn’t tonight midwinter’s eve?”
“They’ve taken Sigrid?” screamed Hilde. “They’ve taken Sigurd and Sigrid?”
Alf sprang up, barking. “I’ll kill them!” Hilde yelled.
Eirik was still explaining. “…crept up under cover of darkness – probably followed Arne and Bjørn – lay in wait –”
“All that fuss when you fell over,” gasped Hilde. “Perhaps they grabbed them then. There did seem a lot of big footprints, but I never thought! Oh, I can’t bear it! They’ll be so frightened!” She turned. “Mother, where are you going?”
Gudrun, white-lipped, was wrapping herself up. “To look for them, of course. You stay here and look after Grandpa.”
“By Odin,” shouted Eirik furiously, “you take me for a dotard, you do. Hilde will stay here. Gudrun, you will come with me. We shall go to Arne Egilsson’s and raise the village. Ha!” He stamped his foot down into a boot and broke into an old battle chant.
Gudrun shrugged. Her pale face softened into a very faint smile.
“He’s exactly like his son,” she remarked proudly.
Chapter 13
The Nis to the Rescue
PEER CROUCHED ON the frozen privy floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. He was so cold that in spite of Uncle Baldur’s last words to him, he rather thought he might die before morning. That would spoil their plans, he thought bitterly.
The only comfort was that Loki had got away. Everything else was a disaster. He imagined Baldur and Grim kicking open the door of Hilde’s house and dragging her out – her mother and her old grandfather would be unable to stop them. With Hilde in their power they would return to the mill for him, Peer, and take the pair of them away up Troll Fell. The Grimssons would collect their golden reward, and he and Hilde would become slaves of the trolls.
As for Loki, he would probably die in the woods, lost and cold and starving. Peer groaned in anguish…
…and heard a slithering sound somewhere over in the corner. He went very still. New fear tingled through him. He had completely forgotten about the other inhabitants of this privy.
The sound came again, accompanied by a creaking noise. Peer could imagine somebody hoisting themselves through one of the holes in the wooden seat. He tried not to breathe.
A voice spoke suddenly. “’Oo’s there?” it squeaked.
Peer dared not answer. A second voice spoke up from the pit below, hollow and muffled. “What’s up?”
“There’s someone ’ere!” squeaked the first voice.
“Light coming up,” boomed the second voice. In utter amazement Peer saw the three holes in the long wooden seat light up, throwing three round patches of light on to the rough roof. An arm came up through the middle hole, carrying a bluish flame.
The creature in the corner reached out and took it; the flame transferred easily from the first hand to the second and seemed not to belong to any oil lamp or taper. It was just a flame, flickering away by itself.
The second creature’s head now appeared through the hole. It spotted Peer and squealed. “Ooh! Look at that!”
“It’s a boy,” declared the first one in deep disgust.
Peer had never seen such strange beings. Their heads reminded him of turnips. They were lumpy and blotchy and bewhiskered. The one in the corner had an ear that stuck out like a cabbage leaf on one side of its head, while the other ear was small and knobbly. The one peering out of the hole seemed to have no ears at all. And the nose on it! And the mouth! Like a thin line with no lips.
“Are you – lubbers?” Peer quavered.
The first one jumped and the flame swerved and nearly went out. “It talks!”
“Of course it talks,” growled the second lubber. “All boys talk, you fool. Give me that!” It clambered nimbly through the hole and snatched the flame back. Then it crossed its legs and sat on the edge of the seat, looking at Peer.
“Whatcher doing here, then?” it asked chattily, but its bald turnip head and slit-like features did not reassure him.
“My – my uncles locked me in,” Peer explained.
The lubber seemed astonished. “You mean you can’t get out?”
“N-no,” Peer faltered, aware of making a mistake. The lubber in the corner nudged its friend.
“He can’t get out,” it said.
“Yeah,” said the lubber with the light. “I heard.”
They both stared at Peer, and then as if by unspoken agreement they both shuffled a bit closer to him along the bench.
“So,” said the lubber with the light. “Right cosy little party, this.”
There didn’t seem any reply to that. During the next minute’s silence, both lubbers came a little bit closer again.
Peer shifted anxiously. He pushed the door, testing it. It would not move. The Grimssons must have stacked half the woodpile against it.
“That’s an interesting trick,” he said quickly. “Your light, I mean. H-how does it work?”
“Watch this,” said the lubber with the light. He opened his mouth, wider and wider, till it looked as if his throat had been cut. He placed the flame inside his mouth and shut it. For a moment his cheeks glowed purple and red like a lantern. He gulped, and the flame went out.
In the ensuing darkness Peer felt both the lubbers scuffling much, much nearer.
“Then I snap my fingers,” said the lubber’s voice, close to his ear, “and back comes the light. Neat, or what?”
The bluish, bobbing flame appeared not far from Peer’s nose.
“It’s his party trick,” said the other lubber. They were now one on either side of Peer, and he did not know which way to look.
“It’s very clever,” he said desperately.
“It is clever,” agreed the lubber. “It’s very, very clever, but you know what? It always – makes me – hungry!”
Its mouth yawned open next to Peer’s shoulder. He leaped aside, cannoning into the other lubber. The touch of it made his flesh crawl: it was clammy and cold.
“Grab him,” shouted the lubber with the light, “the first square meal in ages, I’m sick of beetles and slugs —”
It would be like being eaten by frogs. Mad with loathing, Peer raised his arms to ward the hideous creatures off – and felt something hard being slipped into his hand from above. His fingers knew what it was, they closed over the hilt instinctively.
“Look out!” shrieked the second lubber. “He’s got a knife!”
The two lubbers rushed for the holes. There were two splashes, and the light went out. Peer was alone in the dark, though a mumbling, grumbling conversation was going on in the pit below.
A small pearly light dawned near the roof. Peer looked up.