The Land of the Silver Apples - Farmer Nancy - Страница 37

“It’s a Northman joke,” Jack explained. “He has awful battle scars. His leg was practically chewed off by a troll.” Pega’s eyes opened very wide.

“But Rune had heard some lore about Elfland. Seems it isn’t safe for adults, but children can get in and out,” said the shield maiden.

Jack remembered the Bard telling him the same thing. I think you’re young enough to resist the lure of elves,the old man had said. It’s a curious thing, but this is one area where children are stronger than adults. They aren’t taken in by illusions, and elves, above all else, are masters of illusion.

“Heinrich and I were chosen to go.”

“That’s the boy I don’t know,” said Jack.

“He was a nephew of Ivar the Boneless,” said Thorgil. “He’d just turned twelve, and Ivar insisted we take him. You know how one person can simply ruin an outing? Heinrich had been spoiled rotten by his mother. He whined constantly. He wanted to be first on shore for the raids. He hogged the bog myrtle and demanded the first pick of plunder. Andhe insisted we call him Heinrich the Heinous, a title he had not earned. He was no more heinous than any other twelve-year-old, in spite of torturing thralls—”

“That’s enough,” said Jack, who didn’t want to get into torturing thralls with Pega there. She was staring at Thorgil with frank horror. “Tell us about your quest.”

“Heinrich insisted on going first to show off his weapons. Honestly! A sword, a spear, a shield, anda reserve shield when you’re practically going down into a mine. How stupid can you get? Anyhow, on the second day Heinrich wanted to explore a side passage. ‘You know what Rune said,’ I told him. ‘No side passages.’ He called me a coward and went in.” Thorgil swallowed and took a deep breath. Jack had an awful feeling he knew what was in the side passage.

“He—he called out that he was stuck,” said the shield maiden. “I was lagging behind with the supplies, and I heard Heinrich scream. I held up the torch and saw—” Thorgil broke off.

Jack and Pega waited. The shield maiden was clearly having trouble saying exactly what she saw. The sun had finally found its way into the narrow valley and roused a family of otters. They slid past on the stream, bobbed down, and came up with small silver fish in their paws. They were not in the least afraid of the humans on the bank.

“When I was very small,” Thorgil said, gulping, “I found a nest of snakes while digging for wild garlic in the forest. They were slithering all over each other, hissing and baring their fangs. I ran home and was beaten for not fetching the garlic. That’s what I saw in the cave, only this nest was much, much bigger. There were hundreds of serpents, and in the middle was Heinrich. They were wrapped around his arms and legs, and as I watched, one went down his throat. But before I could do anything, the ground started shaking! I’ve never felt anything like it. The rocks tumbled down, and I couldn’t stay on my feet. Then something struck me from behind. When I awoke, the tunnel we’d come through had collapsed and a hole had opened up in the roof.”

“And Heinrich?” said Pega.

“Gone. Buried behind the rocks.” Thorgil looked down at her hands.

“He fell into a knucker hole,” said Jack. “We were almost trapped by one too. It looked like a giant tick.”

“No. A bedbug,” Pega insisted.

“I swear by Odin it was a nest of snakes,” said Thorgil.

“We’re all probably right. I think a knucker looks like your worst nightmare,” Jack said wisely.

Chapter Twenty-three

THE BUGABOO

By this time the sun was flooding into the little valley. All three children were depressed by Thorgil’s tale, and Jack suggested they share the rest of her story later. He had filled his pockets with the excess cheese, which was fortunate, for the mushroom-shaped pots had vanished.

“It gives me the creeps to know that some creature can come and go without us seeing it.” Pega shivered.

“It seems friendly,” Jack said.

“Yes, but it won’t come out into the open. How am I going to sleep with that thing tiptoeing around? And why was it hanging over me?”

“Perhaps you looked the most edible,” suggested Thorgil.

“Stop that,” said Jack. He was reluctant to leave the crevice in the mountains. It seemed so safe after the whispering trees and the shock of finding Thorgil half devoured by moss. But they had no choice.

They continued to follow the strip of meadow between the rocks and the forest. No one said anything. No one made the decision to go on. It was simply the easiest thing to do.

They passed groves of aspen, birch, alder, and ash, broken up by gnarled, lichen-encrusted oaks and lime trees that cast an eerie green shade. Presently, Jack noticed that the sun, instead of being behind them, was on their left. They had come to the end of the valley and were following the mountains around to the other side. Yet still there was no way out, and the rocks were still too steep to climb.

“I think this is leading us back,” said Thorgil. “I had hoped to return to the ship, but the tunnel was blocked.” They rested by a little rushing stream, and Jack passed around the cheese he’d taken. Much had happened since he last saw Thorgil, and he told her first of his return to the village and of the Bard’s travels in the body of Bold Heart.

“That was Bold Heart?” cried the shield maiden. “That stupid bird told me he was the Bard, but I assumed he was lying. So many birds do.”

“You can understand birds?” said Pega.

The shield maiden nodded curtly. Jack remembered she didn’t like understanding them. She said they reminded her of a mob of drunk Northmen and never shut up.

“What’s that one saying?” said Pega, pointing at a finch warbling on an elder bush.

Thorgil listened. “He’s saying, ‘I’m itchy. I’m itchy. I’m itchy.’ And that one’s saying, ‘So am I. So am I. So am I.’ The one on the beech tree is singing, ‘Bird lice, bird lice, we’ve all got bird lice!’”

“Knowing does kind of take the fun out of it,” decided Pega.

They traveled on. Jack told Thorgil about Lucy’s madness, the destruction of St. Filian’s Well, and Brutus’ disappearance.

“Youcaused the earthquake?” cried Thorgil when he got to that part.

“I didn’t mean to. I was angry. The Bard says never to do magic when you’re angry.”

“That’s a wonderful skill!” exclaimed Thorgil. “You could cause an avalanche to fall on your enemies. You could wipe out a whole village.”

“Oh, bother,” muttered Jack. He’d forgotten how bloodthirsty she was. But on the whole they spent a pleasant day swapping tales and reminiscing about their adventures in Jotunheim. Jack didn’t notice until late afternoon that Pega had said nothing for a very long time.

He looked for a place to spend the night, but this time he found no friendly side valley. They’d have to camp on the rocks or go under the trees.

“I will not go under the trees,” Thorgil said.

“Frightened?” said Pega waspishly.

“Only thrallsare afraid,” the shield maiden hissed.

“That’s lucky, because there are no thralls here,” retorted Pega. “As for me, I’m going to find a nice, soft little bed of moss. I suppose you’d prefer to cower on the rocks.”

“Pega!” cried Jack. He was surprised. It wasn’t like her to pick fights.

But Thorgil merely grunted. “I choose my battles. I don’t care to wake with a monster leaning over me.”

Pega stamped off to the trees, though not actually under the branches, Jack noticed. Thorgil found a smooth shelf of rock. “This makes no sense,” Jack told her. “We have to stay together.”

“Then let her come here,” the shield maiden said.

“I’m not moving!” called Pega.

Jack looked from one to the other, trying to think of a way to bring them together. He couldn’t understand why this argument had suddenly surfaced. “At least let’s tell stories or something. I’m not sleepy yet.” Grudgingly, the girls met halfway between their chosen camps. It wasn’t a good place, being somewhat marshy, but Jack was grateful for whatever he could get. What could have caused this problem? he wondered. You expected ratty behavior from Thorgil—the time to worry was when she was being nice—but Pega had always been eager to please.