West of the Moon

“THERE’S A HEAVY snow coming,” Eirik said to Gudrun. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“And what if there is?” Gudrun slapped the dough she was kneading. “I don’t have to worry about the weather any more.”

Hilde, pulling on her thick-fur lined boots, looked anxiously at her mother. Gudrun was very pale these days.

“It’s not snowing yet,” she said. “Just freezing hard.” She belted her sheepskin jacket with a piece of string, and took the lantern from its hook. “I’m going to feed the cows.”

Eirik looked up. “I’ll help,” he offered.

“Oh, I don’t need any help, Grandpa…”

“Don’t be an old fool, Eirik,” Gudrun snapped. “Stay in the warmth.”

Eirik was offended and hurt, and Hilde saw it. “If Sigurd and Sigrid come out with me, Eirik could keep an eye on them. They need some fresh air.”

“No we don’t,” objected Sigrid.

“You’ll do what you’re told!” Hilde hissed.

“Can we have a snowball fight?” asked Sigurd.

“Certainly, if you don’t go out of Grandpa’s sight,” said Hilde briskly. She pushed their boots on and pulled their woolly caps over their ears. Gudrun wrapped up Eirik till he was almost circular.

Hilde filled her pockets with stones – handy for throwing at trolls – and bundled the little ones ahead of her out of the door. They screamed with delight and slid off across the icy yard. Gudrun appeared in the doorway supporting Eirik, who shook her off irritably and stepped after Hilde. He staggered, and Hilde leaped to help him. “Leave me alone, girl,” he growled at her. “I can manage!”

“Now Father-in-law, do take care!” shrilled Gudrun.

Eirik really lost his temper. “Women, women,” he shouted, “cluck, cluck, never leave you alone. I wish my son was here. He’d know I’m not in the grave yet!” He slipped on a particularly glossy patch of ice and sat down hard.

Hilde rushed to pick him up. Sigurd and Sigrid threw snow about, quarrelling. Gudrun clung to the doorpost, calling out instructions. Eirik sat puffing with shock.

There was an apologetic cough. “Can we help?” Hilde looked up to see Bjørn and Arne climbing over the gate. The two young men pulled Eirik to his feet and dusted the snow off him tactfully. Eirik dabbed at himself, muttering.

“It was the ice,” Hilde explained awkwardly. “It was so slippery that he – he slipped.”

“Ah yes, it’s slippery stuff, ice,” said Arne with a grin. He became serious again. “We’ve brought some news.”

“Come inside then, before you freeze,” snapped Gudrun, holding the door open. “Hurry! I’m losing all the warmth.”

They all trooped into the house. “It’s nothing much,” Bjørn began, but Gudrun stopped him. “Not a word! Not a word of your news do I wish to hear till we’ve shown you some hospitality. We still know how to welcome our neighbours here, I hope. Hilde, where’s your manners? Fetch some ale.”

“In some houses,” Eirik grumbled under his breath, “it’s the man who calls for ale!”

The ale was drunk in an atmosphere of polite discomfort. “Well,” said Arne, when Gudrun finally allowed him to speak, “we spoke to the Grimsson boys today. We came straight on from the mill, in fact. They’ve heard about Ralf. They were – celebrating, I’m afraid.”

“Boasting about how they’re going to steal Ralf’s land,” Bjørn added.

“We wiped the smile off Baldur’s fat face. We told him to leave you alone.”

“Did you see Peer? Was he all right?” asked Hilde anxiously.

Bjørn looked thoughtful. “Yes, we saw him. I hope so. There was a little noise going on when we left, and I forgot to speak to him.”

“Bjørn lost his temper,” Arne grinned.

Gudrun’s eyes were wet. She mopped them quickly with her apron. “You’re such good friends,” she exclaimed, stretching out her hands. The young men flushed.

“So we’ll keep a close eye on the Grimssons for you,” Arne went on hastily, “if Eirik has no objection, that is?”

Everyone looked at Eirik. “What?” said Eirik. “No, er – of course not. Keep an eye on them for all you’re worth, young fellow!”

“Good,” said Arne. “If they start any trouble, let us know.” He stood up.

“I’ll come out with you,” said Hilde. She slipped out ahead of Bjørn and Arne, surprising three small trolls who were sneaking across the yard.

“Get out!” she yelled, scrabbling in her pocket for stones. They bolted under the gate, and Arne and Bjørn ran up. “Are you all right? We heard you shout.”

“Quite all right, Bjørn, thank you. I was frightening away a few trolls.”

Arne looked at her admiringly. “So you know how to deal with trolls?”

“I’m a pretty good shot,” Hilde boasted.

“But where are you going? To feed the cows? Can I help?”

“No, no!” said Hilde, blushing as Bjørn nudged his brother and grinned. “You should both get home. Grandfather’s bones tell him a snowstorm is coming.” As she spoke she realised it was already snowing again. “And it looks as if he’s right,” she added.

Arne and Bjørn said goodnight, and Hilde dived into the dark cowshed. She pulled down hay for Bonny and her calf, and threw down fresh straw. When the animals were comfortable, she left the sheltered shed, tramped across the wild white yard and banged on the farmhouse door. She waited, shivering, while Gudrun unbarred it, and then jumped inside, gasping and laughing and brushing off snow.

“Brrr! Shut the door, mother! Whatever are you waiting for?”

“The twins, of course. Aren’t they with you?”

“No!” said Hilde, alarmed. “Weren’t they with you?”

Gudrun slammed the door. “I thought they went out after you the second time. They went out just before Bjørn and Arne.”

“They never joined me. I’ve been in the shed.”

They looked at each other.

“Listen,” said Gudrun in a low voice. She pointed to Eirik, asleep by the fire. “Don’t wake him yet. Take the lanterns and go round the steading – call them. They may be building a snow fort or something. If not – ah!” She moved her hands despairingly. “What then?”

“What next?” said Hilde grimly. “Don’t worry, mother. I’ll find them.” She plunged back out into the darkness.

The lantern shone on to snow whirling on the ground, picked up and flung about by the wind. It was hard to walk in a straight line.

“Sigurd?” she shouted. “Sigrid? Where are you? Come in at once, supper’s ready!