Troll Fell

“Hello!” she called. “Who are you?”

She looked clean and colourful. Peer looked down at himself. His old clothes were drab and torn, and his hands were smeared with mud.

“My name’s Peer Ulfsson,” he mumbled.

“Ulf’s son?” said the girl. “Now wait, I know everyone, don’t tell me. I’ll get it. Yes! There was an Ulf who was old Grim’s stepson. Is that him?”

Peer nodded. “But he died last week,” he told her.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Peer. Is that why you’re here? Have you—?”

“I’ve come to live with my uncles,” Peer agreed stolidly.

“That’s terrible for you!” the girl cried. “Whoops!” She clapped a hand over her mouth, but her eyes gleamed. “Perhaps you like them?”

“No, not much,” said Peer cautiously. “What’s your name?”

“Hilde, Ralf ’s daughter. Welcome to the valley!” said Hilde with a flourish. “Come and visit us if you like. Ours is the highest farm in the valley, we own most of the north side of Troll Fell. You won’t meet my father Ralf, though, because he went away this morning. My mother’s really upset. He’s gone off to Hammerhaven to join some wretched new longship they’ve been building, and he’s going to be away all summer. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing!” Peer growled. “It’s the ship my father helped to build, that’s all!”

“Oh!” Hilde went red. She said awkwardly, “Then you and I ought to be friends. Pa says the ship is wonderful – he’s so proud to be sailing on her. Hey!” She pointed at Loki. “Look at your dog!”

They both laughed in relief. Loki and the pony had stretched out their necks as far as they could and were sniffing each other, nose to nose. The pony snorted loudly and Loki nearly fell over backwards in fright.

“Don’t let him go near that millpond,” Hilde warned seriously.

“Why not? He can swim.”

“I know, but Granny Greenteeth lives in there. That’s why there aren’t any ducks or moorhens. She pulls them under and eats them. So people say.”

“Really?” asked Peer with a shiver. He turned and looked at the sullen, brown water with its oily reflections. It was easy to believe that Hilde could be right.

“What’s she like?” he asked anxiously.

“She has green teeth, of course,” said Hilde. “Pointed. Some people say she has webbed feet. Green weedy hair. I don’t know, I’ve never seen her, but a man in the village met an enormous eel one night, sliding along in the grass – and that was her, too!”

“How did he know?” asked Peer reasonably.

“He just did! And that’s not all,” said Hilde darkly. “There are all sorts of spooky stories about this mill. I don’t envy you, living here. Still, you probably won’t have very much to do.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for one thing I’m afraid your uncles are so unpopular that a lot of us went back to hand-grinding at home.” She pulled a face. “Mother makes me do it. I hate it. You see, the Grimssons are lazy. They think they’re so important just because they’re the millers, and yet the mill only runs once in a while. They’re always cheating people and not giving fair measure. Our flour used to come back full of chaff and dirt, which they put in on purpose. We even found a dead mouse once.”

“Why would they do that?” asked Peer in irritated disbelief. He began to think he didn’t like this girl. Couldn’t she say anything good about the place?

“We have a feud with them,” said Hilde cheerfully. “They claim they own one of our fields. They don’t, of course.” She grinned at him. “I suppose that means we have a feud with you, too, if you’re family.”

“A feud!” Peer exclaimed, ignoring the last bit. “And your father’s called Ralf?”

“Ralf Eiriksson.”

“I saw him last night! Didn’t he come over Troll Fell in all that rain? So that’s why my uncle was yelling. I thought I’d seen your pony before!”

“You were there? Pa never said. What happened exactly?”

“It was so dark and wet, he probably didn’t see me,” Peer told her. “I was getting soaked in the bottom of the cart. He came up behind us where the road is narrow. I don’t know who my uncle thought was coming, but as soon as he heard your father’s voice he went crazy. He stood up and began shrieking and yelling—”

“Yelling what?”

“He called him a crawling worm,” said Peer. “And a thief.”

“Did he!” Hilde flashed. She clenched her knuckles on the reins and prepared to ride on.

“Hey, you asked!” said Peer. “It’s not my fault. And if you hate them so much, why are you here this morning?”

Hilde laughed scornfully. “I’m not coming to your precious mill! I’m riding past, on my way down to the village.” She patted her basket. “I’m going to see Bjørn the fisherman, and trade some cheese and butter. Mother wants fish and my grandfather Eirik fancies a roast crab for his tea.”

Cheese! Butter! Roasted crabs! Peer swallowed. He suddenly realised how terribly hungry he felt. His downcast look must have touched Hilde, for she said in a more friendly way, “Well, I hope you’ll like living here. Your uncles will give you an easy time at first, won’t they? I know! I can bring our corn to you now, instead of to your uncles. If you don’t tell them who it’s from, maybe they’ll grind it properly for us. That would be a joke!”

“I don’t really think I could,” began Peer stiffly, feeling sure that her jokes could get him into a lot of trouble.

“Oh, forget it!” said Hilde impatiently. “Of course I didn’t mean it.” She gave him a look, plainly wondering how anyone could be so boring and serious, and Peer flushed. Hilde waved. “I’ll be seeing you!” she cried.

She rode across the wooden bridge, and on down the hill. Peer blew out his cheeks.

“Who cares what she thinks?” he muttered. “Eh, Loki?”

Despondently, he called Loki to heel and trailed back into the yard. The mill door was open and he saw one of his uncles standing dishevelled in the morning sunshine, scratching under his arms and staring darkly after Hilde’s back as her pony picked its neat-footed way down the road to the village. He summoned Peer with a jerk of the head.

“Were you talking to that lass?” he demanded accusingly.

“Yes, Uncle Grim,” said Peer meekly.

He received a slap that made his head ring and his eyes water. “That’s for chattering and wasting time,” growled his uncle. “Your time is my time now, see? And time is money. What did she say?”

“If you don’t want me to talk to her, why do you want to know?” asked Peer angrily, rubbing his ear.

Uncle Grim lifted his hand again.

“Oh, well let me see,” said Peer sarcastically. “She asked me who I was. I told her my name. Then she told me her name is Hilde, and she welcomed me to the valley, which she seems to think she owns. Isn’t this interesting?”

Uncle Grim didn’t seem to notice sarcasm. “What else?” he asked.

Peer wasn’t going to repeat what Hilde had said about the mill. He racked his brains for something else. “Oh, yes!” he remembered. “She said her father went away this morning. He’s going off a-Viking for the summer, on the new longship.”

Uncle Grim’s black beard split open in a very nasty smile, showing all his brown and yellow teeth.