Troll Mill

“I’m going to search for her among the skerries, and I’ll search for that bull seal too, for I’m sure he lives and hates me. If I find him, I’ll see what a second blow can do. I’ve nothing to lose now.”

“Nothing? What about the baby?” asked Peer.

“What?” Bjørn sounded as though he hardly understood the question.

“Your baby!” Peer repeated coldly. A throb of rage shook his voice as he remembered the stumbling nightmare of the journey home. “I brought her back for you last night. You’ve hardly looked at her. We don’t even know her name!”

Bjørn lowered his eyes. “She’s called Ran,” he said flatly. “Her name is Ran.”

“What sort of an outlandish name—?” Gudrun’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Kersten wanted a name that came from the sea,” said Bjørn wearily. “Change it, if you don’t like it. Call her Elli. That was the name I would have picked.”

Gudrun was horrified. “Oh, I couldn’t, Bjørn. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Listen to Peer, Bjørn,” Ralf urged. “You’re a father now. You mustn’t take risks.”

“A fine father who can’t even give his child a home.” Bjørn stood. “I must go. You don’t mind me coming to see her–from time to time?”

“Really, Bjørn,” exclaimed Gudrun. “What a question!”

Bjørn nodded. His blue gaze travelled slowly over all of them, seeming to burn each of them up. At Peer, he hesitated, silent appeal in his face. Peer stared back stonily. Bjørn turned away. The door closed behind him.

CHAPTER 5 The Quarrel (#ulink_0e95026f-c541-5d5c-9d5a-c49a6bcda3be)

Ralf rose to his feet. “I’ll go after him. We mustn’t leave him alone. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Besides, I left Einar and Harald and old Thorkell searching the tide-line, and they may have found poor Kersten by now.”

“But Pa!” Hilde cried. “What about Bjørn’s story? Don’t you believe it?”

“No, Hilde, I don’t.” Ralf paused and looked down at her. “Even Bjørn’s not really sure, is he? Oh, I believe he found Kersten on the skerry. But he talks about sunstroke. That can do strange things to a man–make him see things that aren’t there. Most likely, what he told his brother was true, and she’d been stranded there after a wreck. Those waters are dangerous.”

Halfway out of the door he stopped, and added sternly, “And don’t go repeating that story of Bjørn’s, either. No good encouraging him to hope. We’d all like to think that Kersten’s still alive, I know, but it’s best to face up to things. Drowned men and women don’t come back.”

“Leave the door open!” Gudrun called after him, as the sunshine streamed in. “Let’s have some daylight in here!”

Hilde looked at Peer, sitting at the table with his head in his hands. She reached out to touch his shoulder, but changed her mind and carried Eirik outside into the yard. She put him down to crawl about.

The sky was pale blue, with a high layer of fine-combed clouds, and a lower level of clean white puffballs blowing briskly over the top of Troll Fell. Hilde filled her lungs with fresh air and gazed around at the well-loved fields and skyline. Only one thing had changed since last year: the new mound on the rising ground above the farm, where old Grandfather Eirik had been laid to rest. “Where he can keep an eye on us all,” Ralf had said gruffly. “Where he can get a good view of everything that’s going on!”