West of the Moon (22 page)

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

“I just think someone ought to sail with Bjørn,” Ralf argued.

“Bjørn'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. “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 towards them. He paled. “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. “Where's Bjørn?”

“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 of him, Ralf, drawn after him like 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. “You'll soon find out, Thorkell – it'll be a great thing for the village. We worked it yesterday and it ran perfectly.”

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

“At night?” Peer stammered. “No.”

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

“And you've heard this often?” Peer enquired. “Recently?”

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

Peer didn't believe him. But he made up his mind 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! Peer will keep his eyes open, won't you, Peer? And now we'll be off. Good day to you!”

He strode off so fast, Peer and Hilde had to run to catch up. “Daft old fellow,” Ralf was muttering. “What an old nanny-goat he is.”

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

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

“Yes, Pa. And…” Hilde hesitated, trying to frame her thoughts.
I saw a seal. We saw a seal, and I thought it would speak to us. I asked a seal if it was Kersten
. It sounded mad, put into words. But she tried. “I was up near the point, Pa, sitting on a rock with Ran, and a seal came. It was watching us.”

“Yes? Well, they're curious beasts.”

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

“Did it speak?”

Hilde blushed. “No.”

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

All the same
, thought Hilde,
something special happened. Something I can't explain
. She hurried after her father, distressed, as though she'd been given a message that she couldn't deliver.

Outside Bjørn'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. Bjørn lay on the bed, propped against the wall, as if he had fallen asleep while trying to keep awake. Ralf shook him gently.

Bjørn groaned. He sat up, scrubbing his fingers into his eyes. “Ralf?” 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 Bjørn 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. Bjørn held her easily, tipping her back in 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.

Hanging back behind the other two, Peer watched. Bjørn 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 much older than me, after all
, Peer realised.
And he's not some hero. He's a fisherman. He's never claimed to be anything more. But he's brave, and he's always been kind to me. Why couldn't I see he was shocked, last time we met? Why did I lose my temper?
There was a painful knot in his chest as he remembered some of the things he'd said.

“Thanks for coming,” said Bjørn. 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 Bjørn and Kersten, whatever had been said or done, it didn't matter any more. This was just Bjørn, the same as ever. He held out his hand. “I'm sorry, Bjørn. I was wrong. I didn't understand.” Bjørn gripped it, hard enough to stop the blood flowing.

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

Bjørn 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.” Bjørn shut his eyes, as if there was something he didn't want to see. “I'd like to disbelieve it. But I don't sleep very well. I hear things outside the house at night.”

“What things?” asked Hilde.

Bjørn shrugged. “They come wading to shore after dark and cluster round the house, dripping and whispering, picking at the door. 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.

“Dreams,” said Ralf gently. “You're not sleeping well, you've said so yourself.”

Bjørn looked down, stroking Ran's hair. “No, they're real.”

“Bjørn.” Hilde dropped to her knees beside him. “What's this all about? What is the black seal Thorkell saw?”

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

Ralf snorted. “How can you know that?”

Bjørn 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. Bjørn 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, Bjørn. If there's anything in it, you need help.”

At that moment, the latch clicked noisily. They all jumped. Gudrun elbowed 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 that 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, Bjørn? I've brought some of our eggs. You sit there with the baby, and I'll cook them for you.”

“Eggs?” said Bjørn 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 put them in her apron. So she was coming home, really carefully, holding up her apron with all these eggs in it. I didn't know what she'd been doing, and I came around the back of the house and put my arms round her to give her a great big hug. And the eggs went everywhere!” He laughed at the memory. “Splat, splat, splat! She called me a clumsy bear – but she couldn't help laughing.” The merriment died from his face. “I still can't believe she's gone. No explanation. No goodbyes. Just – gone!”

Hilde caught her breath. Now – now was the moment. It had been so clear, so strong, that moment of joyful certainty. She knew she was meant to tell Bjørn 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? He'll be angry with me for raising Bjørn's hopes.

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

Bjørn took a mouthful of the hot, buttery eggs. “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. 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. Not many fishermen live to be old, anyway.”

Gudrun threw down the skillet with a crash.

“Shame on you for talking like that! You may well drown, if you keep taking your little boat out alone in all weathers, but as for black seals and draug boats, fancy believing a word of anything dreamed up by old Thorkell and Harald Bowlegs!”

“I've seen the seal myself,” said Bjørn gently.

“Anybody can see a seal!” Gudrun cried. She swung round. “Ralf, the boy needs help. Tell him! I'm surprised you haven't already.”

Ralf blinked. “Tell him what?”

Gudrun put her hands on her hips. “Tell him you'll go with him to Hammerhaven to fetch his brother, to fetch Arne. What are you waiting for?”

Ralf 's face cracked into a huge grin. “Gudrun, you're amazing!” He sprang up like a dog set loose. “She's right, Bjørn. What do you say? If you and I go in the boat, we can reach Hammerhaven tonight. If Arne's at home, we'll bring him back. If he's out fishing, we'll wait for him. Two, three days, that's all it will take.”

Bjørn began to object. “I can't bring Arne into this.”

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

“She's right again,” said Ralf. “He's your brother.”

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

“Then we're off!” Ralf stuck his head out of the door. “A light wind coming down the fjord, and the tide was high an hour ago. Get your boots on, man!”

“Be careful,” said Gudrun, suddenly nervous. “The faering is such a little boat.”

“Don't worry.” Bjørn looked happier already, as though glad to be given a job he knew how to do. “I know the waters, Gudrun.”

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

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

“Better not,” said Ralf. He put a hand on Peer's shoulder. “We can't have all the men going off together. 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 watching Bjørn and Ralf drag the little faering down the dark bank of wet pebbles and into the water. The sail flapped as the two men jumped in. Bjørn scrambled into the stern, and grabbed the steering oar.

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

“Bye, Pa!” screamed Sigrid.

“Goodbye!”

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

Hilde turned to look at her mother. “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 – and when I heard Asa saying that Bjørn 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 Arne can talk some sense into him,” Gudrun added.