Runestone

by Anna Ciddor

  Thora settled herself on a bench and gazed around enviously. There was nothing dirty or out-of-place in the whole room! The smooth, hard floor was swept completely clean. The shelves along the walls were neatly stacked with bowls and pots. Even the wool on the spindle looked washed and combed. Sigrid busied herself at the fire. She poured a ladle of hot water into a bowl, then fetched a snowy white cloth from one of the wooden chests. She brought the bowl and the cloth to Thora and held them out.

  ‘Freshen your hands and face,’ she offered.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Thora. She dipped a corner of the cloth in the hot water and rubbed her face. ‘I’ve brought the runestones.’ She opened her little pouch and laid the two stones on the table.

  Sigrid stared at the stones with wide eyes.

  ‘Shall I put them in the bed now?’ she asked.

  ‘Umm . . .’ Thora didn’t know if Oddo had taken the bad runestone away yet.

  Just then there was a noise of barking and the sound of running feet. Oddo and Hairydog burst in.

  ‘Oddo, this little girl has brought us the runestones from Runolf,’ Sigrid explained.

  ‘Your mother was just asking me if she should put them in the bed now,’ said Thora, trying to send Oddo a question with her voice and her eyes. Oddo guessed what she was asking. He stepped behind his mother and nodded his head. Thora grinned.

  ‘The sooner the better!’ she said.

  Sigrid looked nervous as she picked up the stones. Cupping them gingerly in her hands she carried them over to the bed.

  ‘So I just put them under the mattress?’ she asked.

  Thora nodded.

  Sigrid knelt by the bed and slipped the stones in place. She peered hopefully into her husband’s face. Hairydog pattered to her side.

  ‘Did Father tell you they could take a few weeks to work?’ asked Thora.

  ‘Yes,’ sighed Sigrid. ‘I don’t know how we’re going to manage. It usually takes all three of us to run the farm. Especially now, in summer . . .’ Her voice was trembling.

  ‘Could I help?’ asked Thora. ‘I’ve always wanted to work on a farm.’

  Oddo’s face lit up.

  ‘Could she, Mother? Please!’

  ‘Well, if your parents would let you,’ said Sigrid. She stood up and brushed off her skirt. ‘It would certainly be a big help.’

  ‘Yes!’ cried Oddo.

  ‘I’m sure it’ll be all right,’ said Thora.

  ‘Then I’ll go and see Ulf at the next farm,’ said Sigrid. ‘If we can get the cheese and wool and fish and everything ready, maybe Ulf can take them on his boat when he goes to market. If Bolverk’s not better by then.’ She turned for the door.‘Now, Thora, I owe your father two pats of butter.’

  She headed out to the dairy.

  Thora started to follow, but Oddo caught her wrist.

  ‘I did all that stuff with the runestone, like you told me,’ he whispered. ‘Are you sure it was right? What if Harald made it up?’

  ‘I don’t think he could have.’

  ‘It’d better be right!’ said Oddo.

  14

  The Little Folk

  Sigrid was kneeling on the ground, opening a sack. She looked up as Thora came into sight.

  ‘So you did come!’ she cried.

  Thora crouched down beside her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked. ‘Can I help?’

  ‘I’m planting,’ said Sigrid.

  She lifted the sack and shook it upside-down. Several little packages wrapped in cloth tumbled to the ground.

  ‘Peas, beans and cabbage seeds,’ Sigrid announced.

  Thora bit her lip. She hadn’t thought of digging and planting when she’d offered to help at the farm. Sigrid untied the first package. Inside was a pile of dried yellow beans.

  ‘Are they seeds?’ cried Thora. ‘When people give us those, I use them for cooking!’

  Sigrid smiled.

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘they’re food and seeds. You can pop them out of their pods and eat them, or you can dry them and use them for seeds. You can grow a whole plant full of bean pods from one little seed.’

  She chose another package and handed it to Thora.

  ‘Look inside,’ she said.

  This package was filled with dried peas.

  ‘Will these grow into pea plants?’

  Sigrid nodded.

  ‘And what about the cabbages?’ Thora asked. ‘Surely they don’t grow from dried cabbage leaves!’

  ‘Nay.’ Sigrid sounded amused. ‘If we need cabbage seeds we leave some cabbages in the ground all winter, covered with soil. When the weather warms up they grow seedpods out the top, on long stalks.’

  She unwrapped the cabbage seeds as she spoke.

  ‘You can plant the cabbage seeds if you like. They don’t need to go very deep. Just push them in with the tip of your finger.’

  Thora knelt on the ground, jiggling the cabbage seeds in her hand. She looked at the row of black earth. In her mind she could hear her father’s warning: ‘The Underworld belongs to the Little Folk and we mustn’t disturb it. We must abide by the rules of magic.’

  ‘But I can’t do magic,’ thought Thora angrily. Quickly, she leaned forward and shoved in her first seed. She pushed hard and it went in too deep. Guiltily, she glanced over her shoulder. Sigrid was busy with her own planting. She wasn’t watching. Thora lifted the seed out, smoothed the soil over and tried again more gently.

  She planted three rows of cabbages, then stood up to stretch her back and look around. Next to the bare rows she’d just planted, another bush was already flourishing. She looked at it curiously, not recognising the small spiky leaves.

  ‘What’s this plant?’ she asked.

  ‘Ah,’ said Sigrid sounding proud. ‘That’s a herb we got at the—’

  ‘A herb?!’ Thora cut in, her voice squeaking with surprise.‘What do you want with herbs? I thought they were only for spells.’

  ‘Why nay,’ said Sigrid. ‘I use lots of herbs in my cooking.’

  She plucked a few leaves from the bush, crushed them between her fingers and held them to Thora’s nose.

  ‘Smell that,’ she said. ‘I used that in the stew last night. It’s called rosemarin. We bought the seeds in the market last year. They come from a faraway land. I wasn’t sure they’d thrive here – but look at them!’

  Thora stared at the little bush and thought how thrilled Granny would be to get her hands on a new herb like this!

  ‘I wish we had a vegetable garden at home!’ said Thora passionately.

  ‘Then why don’t you plant one?’ asked Sigrid in surprise.

  ‘I . . .’ Thora was about to explain about the Little Folk and the danger, but she closed her mouth and shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘Well, when you go home today I’ll give you some seeds and you can plant your own garden,’ said Sigrid. ‘Now, we’d better give these plants a drink.’

  She fetched two jugs of water from the house and handed one to Thora. The two of them walked along the rows of newly planted seeds, letting the water trickle onto the seed beds.

  ‘What’s Oddo doing today?’ Thora asked.

  ‘He’s hoeing.’

  Thora heard a tremor of worry in Sigrid’s voice.

  ‘He said it would be all right,’ said Sigrid,‘But I don’t know . . . His father never lets him. Last time Oddo tried hoeing, he tripped on a rock and nearly broke his arm. And the time before that he fell down a hole and twisted his ankle. Bolverk had to carry him all the way home.’

  Thora fell silent. If Oddo was magic, then no wonder! – of course the Little Folk would get angry with him for digging their ground. She shook the last drops of water out of her jug and handed it back to Sigrid.

  ‘I think I’ll go and check how Oddo’s getting on,’ she declared.

  Before Sigrid could answer, she hitched up the hem of her long kirtle and ran across the yard. She could see Oddo’s small figure in the middle of the big field, sitting hun
ched on the ground. Thora ran as fast as she could and threw herself down beside him.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she gasped.

  Oddo looked at her with a woeful face. His hands were tightly clasped round one of his feet.

  ‘I must have stepped on a sharp stone,’ he said. ‘I’ve hurt my foot.’

  Thora nodded. She wasn’t surprised.

  ‘Father’s right,’ said Oddo. ‘I am a feckless dollop. I can’t even hoe for a few minutes without hurting myself.’

  ‘But you didn’t hurt yourself,’ said Thora.

  Oddo stared at her.

  ‘I did!’ he said. ‘Look!’

  He lifted his hands so she could see the blood seeping through the sole of his shoe.

  ‘I mean, it wasn’t your fault,’ said Thora. ‘It was the Little Folk. They must have attacked you.’

  ‘The little folk?’ Oddo gave her a funny look.‘You’re batty.’

  ‘You must know about the Little Folk!’ said Thora. ‘You leave gifts for them on May Day so they don’t get up to mischief.’

  Oddo shook his head.

  ‘We don’t. Father doesn’t believe in all that stuff.’

  ‘Then no wonder they’re so angry with you. The Little Folk live in the ground and you disturbed their world with your hoeing, so they attacked you.’

  ‘Hogs’ wash,’ said Oddo. ‘I’m just a clumsy cloth-head. Everyone else can hoe the ground without getting hurt.’

  Thora looked around, then she bent close and spoke in a whisper.

  ‘It’s because you’re magic,’ she hissed. ‘Ordinary people don’t get punished because they’re not expected to know any better. But you’re different.’

  Oddo seemed to consider this for a moment, then he turned around and scanned the field, as if he expected to see the Little Folk standing there waving their fists at him.

  ‘You won’t see them,’ said Thora. ‘They’re very secretive.’

  Oddo regarded her with his head on one side.

  ‘Is that why Runolf doesn’t farm?’ he asked.

  Thora nodded.

  Oddo groaned. ‘What am I supposed to do, then? I have to get this field tilled and the barley planted!’

  ‘I can do it for you!’ said Thora. ‘I just did some planting in the vegetable garden and nothing went wrong. The Little Folk don’t care about me.’

  She took a deep breath and said out loud the thing she’d guessed and feared for so long. Now, at last, she knew it was true. ‘I’m not magic!’ she announced.

  But Oddo wasn’t listening.

  ‘Do you know how to fix this foot?’ he asked. ‘If I could walk, I could scatter the seeds while you do the hoeing.’

  For a moment Thora felt annoyed. But then she looked at his blood-soaked shoe, and found herself running through Granny’s list of cures in her mind.

  ‘If you’ve got some honey in the house,’ she said, ‘there’s something I could try. It won’t be any use my saying a spell, but maybe herbs can work their magic on their own. Wait here.’

  Thora hurried to the wood, her eyes searching for the white starry shapes of chickweed flowers. As soon as she saw them, she fell to her knees and pulled off a handful of the pale, juicy leaves. She carried them to Sigrid in the vegetable garden.

  ‘Oddo’s hurt his foot,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to make a cure.’

  ‘I knew it!’ cried Sigrid. She rose in a flutter and looked at the leaves in Thora’s hands.‘What else do you need?’

  A few minutes later, Thora was plastering Oddo’s foot with a layer of leaves and honey. She squatted back on her heels and surveyed her handiwork. The bleeding had stopped. She wrapped a clean cloth around the foot and stood up.

  ‘Does it feel any better?’ she asked.

  Oddo stood up too and took a few tentative steps.

  ‘I can walk on it now!’ he said. He smiled his big, toothy grin.

  Thora was thrilled.

  ‘I can do healing without the spellwork!’ she exclaimed.

  Humming with happiness, Thora began dragging the hoe across the field. Oddo hobbled behind her, scattering the barley seeds. Suddenly, he gave a shout of anger. Behind their backs, a flock of starlings had settled on the field and was merrily pecking up all the seeds they had just sown.

  ‘No!’ squealed Oddo. ‘Leave those seeds alone!’ He limped towards the birds, flapping his hands and yelling. They cocked their heads and twittered at him but they didn’t seem afraid. ‘Here,’ he said, pouring a pile of seeds in one corner of the field. ‘Come over here and eat these ones instead.’

  To Thora’s astonishment, the birds obeyed him.

  When the day ended, Sigrid handed Thora a bundle of seeds, just as she’d promised. All the way home, Thora pondered on the problem of where to plant them.

  15

  Eggs and feathers

  Oddo and Thora headed for the beach, baskets swinging in their hands. Hairydog trotted behind them.

  ‘How’s your foot?’ asked Thora.

  ‘Completely better! You’re a terrific healer!’ Oddo announced. ‘Did you ask your father about the vegetable garden?’

  Thora’s proud smile disappeared.

  ‘I couldn’t tell him,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘But I’ve worked out what to do. I’ll clear a space in the wood and plant one there. If I’m careful, he won’t see me doing it.’

  They reached the beach. Hairydog ran off in excitement, chasing birds and barking at waves. Thora drew some hanks of wool from her basket and wound them round her feet to give them better grip on the slimy, weed-covered rocks. Oddo copied her.

  Soon Thora was off, springing from rock to rock, humming as she went. Oddo travelled more slowly and cautiously, a scowl of concentration on his face.

  Thora called out something and set down her basket. Then she stood and studied the cliff face, hands on hips. Oddo reached her side and reluctantly followed her gaze. The cliff towered over their heads. Every crevice was lined with seabirds and the din of their screeching filled the air.

  ‘Right,’ said Thora.

  She carried a coil of rope looped over one shoulder. Now she fastened one end to the basket, leaving both hands free. She leaned across and yelled in Oddo’s ear. ‘I’ll go first.’

  Oddo nodded. He hadn’t dared tell her yet that he’d never climbed a cliff before. Bolverk always said he’d fall and break his neck if he tried, and he knew it was true.

  Thora placed one foot on a tiny knob of rock on the cliff face, testing its weight. At the same time her hands skimmed the cliff surface, feeling for fingerholds. As Oddo watched, she began to creep up the face of the cliff. Handhold by handhold she inched her way up. Finally she reached a ledge and hoisted herself onto it. The seagulls nesting there squawked indignantly as they flew away.

  Oddo leaned backwards, trying to see what was happening. Suddenly, Thora’s basket appeared over the edge and came rattling down towards him. A small hoard of eggs and feathers lay at the bottom. Quickly and carefully, Oddo transferred them to his own basket, then gave a tug on the rope. The basket lurched up again and Thora reappeared, groping for another ledge higher up the cliff.

  Twice more the basket was lowered, then Thora herself began to feel her way back down the cliff. At last she stood on the ground again at Oddo’s side. Her clothes, face and hands were covered with bird slime, grass stains and rock dust.

  ‘Your turn now!’

  Thora handed Oddo the basket with the rope. She waited expectantly.

  Oddo surveyed the cliff face. He could see one hollow that might make a foothold. He shoved in his toe, and grabbed a knob of rock with his right hand. The rock broke away. Oddo teetered a moment, then pitched backwards, landing ignominiously on his bottom.

  Thora knelt down and yelled in his ear.

  ‘Haven’t you ever climbed before?’

  Oddo shook his head. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment.

  ‘I’ve never been allowed to. I’m no good at things like that
.’

  ‘Then I’ll go up again,’ said Thora. ‘I’m used to it! I’m always climbing cliffs to fetch eggs and seabirds. If I didn’t, my family wouldn’t eat, half the time! Here, give me back the basket.’

  She reached out for the rope.

  ‘Hang on!’ said Oddo, jerking away. ‘I can do it.’

  ‘No, it’s too dangerous for you,’ said Thora.‘You’ll fall and hurt yourself!’

  Oddo ignored her. Angrily, he stood up and faced the cliff again. It still looked high and unclimbable. He placed his foot in the same crevice and pushed off shakily.

  ‘Careful!’ warned Thora. ‘Test each hold before you put your weight on it!’

  Oddo didn’t look up or down. He pressed his body against the surface of the rock and clenched his teeth. Slowly, slowly he edged his way up. A puffin flew close, startling him with its loud squawk and the brush of its feathers. Oddo tried not to think what would happen if he fell now.

  Then he slipped.

  A yelp of fright burst from his lips, but it was swept away in a rush of churning air and flapping feathers. To Oddo’s astonishment, every bird on the cliff seemed to be diving towards him, grabbing at his clothes and hair with their beaks and claws, beating the air with their wings. They were holding him up! But he was too heavy for them . . . his fingers were sliding . . . Then his frantic, scrabbling foot found a toehold in the rock. He put his weight on it and thrust upwards. The next moment his hand closed on a thick tuft of grass.

  Oddo hauled himself onto the ledge and collapsed face down. He listened to the seabirds calling farewell as they flew away. Gradually, he became aware of the stench of their droppings all around him.

  Very cautiously, he sat up and examined the ledge. To his delight there were nests all over it. Gently, Oddo picked up an egg and cradled it in his hand. It was still warm from the mother bird’s body. For a moment Oddo felt guilty, knowing the birds had saved his life, but then he remembered his father’s scornful words: ‘Silly boy, it doesn’t bother the birds if we take their eggs. They just lay more!’ Oddo lifted the basket off his back, filled it with all the eggs and feathers he could reach, and lowered it to the ground. Then he heaved a sigh.