by Anna Ciddor
From the corner of his eye he saw Thora and her mount race out in front. Thora’s hair and cloak were flying like flags on a mast. The water lay before them, wide, swirling and deep.
‘No!’ wailed Thora. ‘Make it sto-o-op!’
But even as she spoke, her reindeer bounded in. Her last words trailed away and she vanished in a fountain of spray.
Oddo had no time even to shout before his mount, too, was leaping into the river. Icy water swallowed him down, but the next instant he bobbed up again, clinging to the reindeer’s back. The river, fed by melting snow, was a surging monster. The reindeer strained forward, neck muscles bulging, and Oddo could feel its legs pumping against the current. Thora, water streaming from her hair and clothes, was hanging onto the neck of her mount and yelling encouragement.
But where was Hairydog? Oddo watched in horror as a speck of nose, a tip of tail flashed into view. The river seemed to be tossing her around like a bit of twig. Maybe, if he threw himself sideways, reached out and grabbed a handful of her fur . . . But then, to his amazement, he realised that the nose and tail were drawing closer to the shore.
Hairydog reached the bank first. As the reindeer scrambled up behind her, Oddo was greeted by a faceful of spray. Hairydog shook herself dry, threw him a grin, then trotted away. Thora’s mount took off after her, with Thora squealing and grabbing the antlers to save herself from falling.
Oddo chuckled, but his smile soon froze to a grimace as his own reindeer began to gallop, and the cold wind cut through his wet clothes.
The second mountain seemed to go up and up forever. Oddo’s hands grew rigid and numb. Night was falling by the time they reached the crest and started down the other side.
At last they reached the bottom. The reindeers slowed to a stop, and they waited, stamping their feet.
Oddo peeled his hands from the antlers and slithered stiffly to the ground. His legs almost crumpled under him. He patted the reindeers’ necks and whispered a thankyou in their ears before they flicked their heels and sped away.
Oddo hobbled around, alternately flapping his arms and rubbing his legs, while Thora flopped at the foot of a tree.
‘Hey,’ Oddo called. ‘How about one of your famous remedies! I’m sore all over.’
‘I’m too tired,’Thora mumbled.
She wrapped herself in her cloak, and curled up to sleep.
20
Wolf pack
Oddo woke before the dawn. He was shivering and every muscle in his body hurt. He groaned and sat up.
‘A warm fire would help,’ he thought. Hairydog opened one eye.‘Come on,’ Oddo whispered.‘Help me find some firewood. We’ll make a surprise for Thora when she wakes up.’
Hairydog leapt to her feet, snuffling with excitement, and quickly disappeared from sight. Moving slowly on his stiff legs, Oddo made his way between the trees.
The forest was dense and dark, with moonlight breaking through in splotches of silver. His feet made soft swishing sounds through the dead leaves, and he jumped when a fallen branch crunched underfoot. He bent to pick it up and snapped it into pieces as he walked. There was a splashing noise, and a wide lake came into view. Hairydog was paddling out from shore, carving a clear wake in its black surface. Sleepy ducks rose out of her way, flapped, and settled again on the water.
When Thora opened her eyes it was still dark. She lay listening to the forest noises, wondering what had woken her. A wind whistled through the branches, making her shiver.
‘Brrr, I’m cold.’ She pulled her cloak more tightly around her. ‘Hey, Oddo, are you awake? Can you make that wind go away?’ She rolled over.
Oddo wasn’t there.
‘Oddo?’ She sat up and looked around. A tight fist of fear clutched at her heart. ‘Hairydog?’ She could hear the sound of panic in her voice.
Where could they be? Why would they go anywhere in the dark? Had something happened to them?
Thora scrambled to her feet, her mind filled with memories of Grimmr’s threats.
‘Oddo,’ she called again, trying to sound brave this time. ‘I’m coming to find you. Don’t worry, I’m coming!’
It was then she heard the wolves.
The first howl, high and piercing, came from the left. Before the echoes died away there was another, throaty and menacing; then another. And another.
Thora began to run, but all among the trees there were sounds of pattering feet, and suddenly a wolf, ghostly grey-coloured with eyes glowing in the moonlight, was barring her way. Thora whirled round and blundered in another direction. She could feel her heart pounding, her breath coming in gasps. And now there were grey shapes everywhere she looked, flickering in and out of sight.
A branch clawed at her face. She reached up angrily and snapped it off. There was another howl, and a lean wolf, hackles raised, sprang out in front of her. Thora stood still, panting, glaring into its eyes. She lifted the stick and brandished it in the creature’s face, but it didn’t even flinch. And now there were wolves all round her. She could sense them. They growled and swished their tails, and on every side, she could see the spark of their red eyes gleaming among the shadows.
Thora lifted her stick and brought it down hard on the first wolf’s nose. To her dismay, instead of falling back, it reared up with a snarl. Then all the wolves burst out of the trees, leaping and snapping. Thora tried to dodge out of their way, slashing wildly with her stick, but they knocked the weapon from her hands, and then she heard a loud rrrrip as sharp teeth closed on her sleeve and yanked.
Oddo was having a difficult time finding sticks in the dark. He peered in the shadows under the trees and scuffed round with his feet. Ah, a big fallen branch. He was bending to pick it up when a howl sounded from the depths of the trees.
He looked up, startled.
Another howl followed, louder, stronger than the one before.
Wolves!
Oddo whirled round and tore into the forest.
The howls were echoing all around him now.
‘Thora!’ he yelled. ‘Thora, I’m coming!’
He was running so fast he felt as if he were flying. He hurtled between the trees, then skidded to a halt, gaping at the scene in front of him.
Thora was surrounded by a pack of wolves, but the beasts seemed frozen in mid-snarl. As Oddo watched, they all fell back and turned their heads in the direction of the dying echoes. They waited, ears pricked, tails raised.
Out of the shadows, walking like a prince, came the stately figure of a huge wolf. Oddo felt his heart beating fast, but Thora just lowered her arm. To Oddo’s astonishment, she whispered something to the creature, then knelt down and let the wolf reach forward and touch his muzzle to the tip of her nose.
Oddo couldn’t bear it any longer.
‘Thora!’ he cried. ‘What on earth is going on? Since when have you had power over animals?’
Thora swung round in surprise at the sound of his voice, then smirked at him and stood up.
‘Don’t you recognise him?’ she asked. ‘It’s Grey Wolf – you know, the one we rescued!’
Oddo’s jaw dropped. He lowered his gaze, and there, bound round the hind leg, just where Thora had tied it, was the last remaining tatter of a bandage.
‘Grey Wolf!’ he breathed. ‘And I thought you were being eaten!’
‘What about you?’ demanded Thora. ‘Where’ve you been? I thought Grimmr had kidnapped you or something!’
‘I went to find sticks to make a fire, but . . .’ He looked at his empty hands. ‘I think I dropped them all when I came racing to the rescue.’
Thora raised her eyebrows.‘You were making a fire? In the middle of the night?’
Oddo looked at the streaks of dawn peeping over her shoulder. ‘It’s not night, it’s morning,’ he said. ‘And it’s light enough to see where we’re going. Come on, we’ve only got two days left to get home!’
21
A warm welcome
‘My shoes are all holes, and these brambly things aren’
t exactly pleasant to walk on,’ grumbled Thora, a few hours later.
Oddo slashed angrily at a branch. His shoes were worn out too, and his arm ached from hacking a way through the forest. He ground his teeth at the thought of Grimmr riding in comfort along the pathway.
By the end of the day, even Hairydog was drooping, and dragging her paws.
‘I wish I hadn’t lost the cauldron,’ mourned Thora. ‘Hot porridge would have been nice right now.’
‘A lot of things would have been nice right now,’ thought Oddo. ‘A bed, a hot fire . . .’
He took another step and blinked in astonishment. In front of him, like the answer to a dream, stood a farmhouse. It was perched upon a cliff above the waters of a fjord, lit by the glow of the setting sun. Smoke curled from its green turf roof. Hens pecked in its yard. A cow peered over the low door of the barn, a wisp of hay in its mouth.
‘A hot fire!’ cried Oddo.
‘Food!’
‘A bath!’
‘A nice soft bed!’
‘We shouldn’t really stop,’ said Oddo. ‘We’ve got to be home by tomorrow. And Grimmr –’
‘Oh come on, Grimmr’s miles behind us, surely. And we must be nearly home.’
Thora led the way across the yard. There was a roar of angry barking and two guard dogs hurtled round the corner of the house. Hairydog started forward, growling protectively, but Oddo grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and fell to his knees, pulling Thora down beside him.
‘We’re friends!’ he assured the strange dogs.
The dogs stopped their clamour and padded over, noses quivering with curiosity. Oddo, Thora and Hairydog waited to be sniffed and inspected before they rose to their feet again. Then the strange dogs led them, tails wagging, to the front of the house.
At the doorway, Oddo and Thora stopped and looked at each other, puzzled. There were no hangings here of animal skins like the houses at home. This doorway was filled with planks of studded wood, like the side of a clothes chest. And it was framed with carved dragons like the figurehead of a longship.
‘How do we get in?’ breathed Thora.
Oddo pushed at the wood, hoping it would swing aside like a normal door hanging, but it didn’t move.
‘Hey!’ he called. ‘Is anybody home?’
‘Maybe we’re supposed to bang on it,’ suggested Thora. She thumped with her hand.
They heard someone moving inside. There was a scraping noise, and the wooden door swung open.
A squat little woman poked her head around the door.
‘Two children!’ she cried. ‘Didn’t Mani and Tanni frighten you, then?’
She frowned at the guard dogs, who were standing and wagging their tails.
Oddo stared back at her in astonishment. It was old Gyda, the midwife who’d brought him into the world.
‘Gyda Goodwife!’ he cried.‘Don’t you recognise us?’
The woman squinted and leaned closer.
‘Why, it’s Oddo and Thora!’ she exclaimed. ‘Two of my babies!’
‘Can we come in?’ asked Thora, stepping forward. ‘We’re starving, and . . .’
‘Goodness, I’m forgetting my manners!’ The old midwife pushed the door back. ‘Come in! Sit by the fire and toast your toes. I’ve a nice hot meal just ready to be eaten.’
Indoors was like a cosy nest. On the welcoming hearth in the middle of the room, a pot of oat graut simmered over the flames. Rustling straw softened the hard earth floor, and cushions padded the wooden stools. Instead of one long room, like the houses at home, this one was divided into chambers with panels.
‘Is this where you live now?’ asked Thora.
Gyda nodded and smiled. Her chins trembled and her coils of hair wobbled.
‘Yes, I’ve moved in with my son and his boys,’ she said. ‘But they’re off on a Viking raid just now.’
She placed a steaming bowl of water on the table. Thora dipped her hands in and reached for the towel. Oddo gazed at the bowl of graut Gyda was filling for him, licking his lips as she added a dollop of sweet, sticky honey.
‘Now tell me what you’re doing here,’ said Gyda, placing it in front of him.
Before Oddo could answer, Thora burst out proudly.
‘We’ve been to the Gula Thing!’ she said. ‘And now we’re heading home. Is it much further?’
‘Ooh no, just a few hours away. Follow the path along this fjord and you’ll find a river that leads straight to your house.’
Oddo banged his spoon and gave a hoot of triumph.
‘We’ve done it!’ he cried.
‘I told you,’ said Thora.
‘Now, you just hurry and get your bellies filled,’ said Gyda. ‘And get out of these daggled clothes.’ She pinched the wet cloth of Oddo’s cloak. ‘It’s the bathhouse you’ll visit next, and then bed.’
22
Unpleasant surprise
Oddo stepped inside the bath-house and felt his last niggling worries melt away. The comforting warmth of the air seeped right through to his bones.
He emptied a bucket of water onto the heated hearth stones, making them sizzle and steam. Sitting down in the thick white vapour, he stretched out his legs and giggled when he couldn’t see his toes. With a switch of soft birch twigs, he began to slap his arms and legs. The scent of birch filled the air and his skin tingled. Dirt and sweat oozed out, like the steam rising from the rocks.
He tilted a dipper full of cold water over his head, shivering as it ran down his hot skin. Feeling fresh and clean, he wrapped himself in a warm towel, and padded out to the sleeping chamber.
Gyda was there waiting for him with a bundle in her arms.
‘Here.’ She shook out a clean linen undershirt, tunic and breeches. ‘These belonged to my grandsons when they were younger. But I’m afraid I never had granddaughters.’
Oddo followed her gaze. Thora, swathed in a kirtle twice her size, was standing in the middle of the room looking very embarrassed. Long, dangling sleeves swallowed up her hands, and the skirt was bunched up round her waist with a rope. Oddo had to hold his breath to stop himself snorting with laughter.
Thora glared at him, then gathered up her trailing garments and tripped across to the sleeping bench.
‘What’s that?’ asked Oddo, pointing at a square of amber that glowed high up in the end wall.
‘Why, a window!’ cried Gyda.
It was a hole, covered with the thinnest of animal skins.
‘That’s the setting sun you can see shining through,’ she explained.
A few minutes later, Oddo was curled up in bed, with Hairydog at his back.
‘Oddo,’ said Thora. ‘No more shortcuts! Tomorrow we follow the pathway.’
‘No more shortcuts,’ Oddo chuckled. ‘Anyway, if we’re so close to home, it wouldn’t make a difference!’
Across the room, Gyda the Midwife hesitated in the doorway and slewed round towards them.
‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you.’ Her voice sounded hoarse. ‘Might not be another chance . . . I’m getting old . . .’ She took a breath, then seemed to change her mind. ‘No,’ she muttered. ‘The morning will do. I’ll tell you in the morning.’ She shambled away.
‘What was that about?’ whispered Thora.
Oddo shrugged.
‘It can’t be anything important – she’s just a funny old woman,’ he said, and snuggled into the soft feather mattress. Through the doorway he could see Gyda settling down to mend their cloaks by firelight. He listened to the quiet shifting of logs in the hearth, the steady rhythm of Thora’s breathing. Overhead, the orange glimmer in the window darkened to black. Oddo smiled contentedly and closed his eyes. A picture of himself marching in front of a cheering crowd, holding up the needfire, sparkled in his mind. As he drifted off to sleep, he imagined Bolverk’s beaming face and all the things he would say in praise of his son.
A thunder of barking split the silence. Oddo and Thora shot up in bed. Fists pounded on the door.
‘
Call off these jabbering hounds before I take my sword to them!’
‘Coming! Patience!’ Gyda rose in a fluster. Her mending cascaded to the floor. ‘Another traveller?’ she queried, drawing back the bolts and peering round the door. ‘Down, Tanni. Quiet, Mani.’
‘Inhospitable curs!’ bawled the stranger, thrusting Gyda aside and stumping into the room. With his bald head, forked beard, and bulging, firelit eyes, he looked like an ogre. But . . .
‘Grimmr!’ gasped Oddo.
‘How did he catch up with us?’
‘I told you we shouldn’t stay.’
‘Puffin poop! Who was it stuffed himself with graut and stayed in the bath for hours?’ The two friends glared at each other. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Let’s get out of here,’ said Thora. ‘If we leave and Grimmr stays here, we can still beat him home!’ She threw back her cover and swung her feet to the floor.
‘But we can’t leave!’ Oddo exclaimed. ‘There’s only one door and it’s over there.’ He pointed into the other room, where Grimmr and Gyda were standing by the doorway.
Thora looked round wildly. She even looked up at the ceiling.
‘The window!’ she whispered. ‘We can get out the window! Quick!’ She stood on the bed. ‘Get up here and I’ll climb on your shoulders. Where’s your dagger?’
As Thora clambered onto his back, Oddo struggled to keep his balance. The dagger wavered alarmingly in Thora’s hand, then disappeared from sight as the smothering folds of her kirtle dropped over his eyes. He could feel her jerky movements as she hacked at the window covering.
The next instant, her weight lifted from his shoulders, and there she was, perched on the windowsill, a silhouette framed by the square of moonlight.
Hairydog leapt on the bed, panting eagerly.
‘Sssh!’ hissed Oddo.
Quickly, he hoisted her up to Thora, then passed up the basket.
He was standing there, arms outstretched, when a voice roared behind him. Oddo spun round. Grimmr was glaring from the doorway, a burning torch in his hand.
‘You!’ he bellowed. ‘What are you up to?!’