“She came from the islands,” said Bjorn reluctantly.
The family nodded. “The islands!”
“Ah …”
“So that explains it!”
But it doesn’t, thought Peer. It doesn’t explain anything, and we all know it. Why aren’t we talking about what really happened?
“I must go.” Bjorn got up, stiff as an old man. “Must try and find her …”
Ralf shook his head in rough pity. “She’s gone, Bjorn. Accept it, lad. Oh, we can search along the shore, but whatever we find, it won’t be your Kersten anymore.”
Bjorn’s face set, so hard and unhappy that Peer jumped to his feet. “But we’ll help him. Won’t we, Ralf?”
“Of course we will—” began Ralf. But Bjorn laid a hand on his arm.
“Kersten’s not dead, Ralf. I know she hasn’t drowned.”
With a worried frown, Ralf blew out his cheeks and ran his hands through his hair. “Well, if that’s how you feel, Bjorn, we won’t give up yet. What’s your plan?”
Before Bjorn could reply, Peer clapped a hand to his mouth. “I forgot!” He looked at Bjorn, stricken. “I completely forgot. When I went to your house last night, Bjorn, you’d been robbed! Your big chest was open, and it was empty. The key was on the floor.”
Everyone gaped at him. Peer rattled on, afraid to stop. “And so … maybe that upset Kersten?” He faltered. “I should have told you before, but it—it went clean out of my mind. Have you lost something special?”
“Don’t worry, Peer, I’d already guessed,” said Bjorn quietly. “Special? You could say so. Kersten took the key. Kersten robbed the chest.”
“What?” cried Ralf. But Gudrun interrupted.
“She took her sealskin, didn’t she?” she asked. “You kept her sealskin in that chest.”
“Oh, now, come on,” began Ralf. This time Bjorn broke in.
“Was it wrong, Gudrun? Do you blame me?” he begged in a low voice.
“Oh, Bjorn,” said Gudrun. She looked around, as if asking the others for help. Bjorn leaned forward, his eyes fixed on her face. Gudrun swallowed. “It’s not for me to judge,” she told him very gently. “Did Kersten?”
Bjorn shook his head. “She never said so. But perhaps … perhaps she’s angry with me. I’ve got to find her. I’ve got to know. It’s out to the skerries I’m bound, looking for a bull seal with a scarred shoulder …”
“Why?” Peer rose to his feet. He felt dizzy. He imagined Kersten in the dark room, on her knees before the chest, flinging the lid back, dragging out the heavy sealskin, stroking it, wrapping herself in it. Is Hilde right? He glared at Bjorn.
“What’s going on? Tell us the truth, Bjorn. Was Kersten really a seal-woman? Did you trap her?”
“Trap her?” Bjorn went white. “We were happy!”
“Then why keep the sealskin locked up?” Peer threw back at him.
The air prickled, as before thunder. For a second Bjorn looked as if he might hit Peer.
“Because I—”
He gulped and started again. “At first I was afraid she would leave. Then, later, I didn’t think it mattered anymore. She was my wife! She wasn’t a prisoner!” The last word was almost a shout.
“But she ran away!” Peer was breathless. “She ran away from you.”
“Gods, Peer, what do you take me for?” Bjorn cried. “You don’t know what you’re saying. All right, listen! This is how I found Kersten—and I’ve never told the story to another living soul.”
Gudrun made a murmur of protest, but Bjorn ignored it.
“Seven—yes, seven years ago, when Arnë was a young lad about your age—we were out in the boat together, hunting seal among the skerries beyond the fjord mouth. I told Arnë to land me on one of the rocks. I’d lie hidden with a harpoon, waiting for the seals to come, and he could take the boat out to the fishing grounds and come back for me later.
“So he brought the boat alongside one of the big skerries where the seals lie, and I scrambled ashore and watched him row away. It was fine—and fresh—and lonely when the boat had gone. Just me and the islands on the horizon and the tide swirling between the skerries. No seals yet, only a few black cormorants diving off the rocks, so I found a sheltered place and lay down in the sunshine on a litter of seaweed and sticks and old gulls’ feathers, with my harpoon near at hand.”
His voice began to relax into a quiet, storytelling rhythm.
“No sound but the sea slopping up against the rocks, and the cries of the cormorants. The rocks felt warm in the sun, winking with bits of crystal. I lay still, so as not to frighten the seals when they came. You know how they float, with their heads just out of the water, watching for danger?
“And so, after a time, I suppose I dropped off to sleep. When I woke it was low tide. The skerry was bigger, going down in great rocky steps to a wide, broken platform on the westward side. And there they were! I could see the seals basking, scratching themselves in the sunshine. I took my harpoon and climbed over the rocks as quietly as I could.”
“Go on,” prompted Ralf, as Bjorn fell silent.
“I was sunstruck, perhaps,” he said slowly. “At least, as I crept over the rocks, I found it hard to see clearly. I felt dizzy and my head ached, and I remember seeing things that could not be. White bees buzzed around my head. I saw faces in the rocks. The sea chuckled and gurgled in secret holes under my feet. I heard a chattering and humming. I thought I heard voices. And then, on the flat rocks where the seals lay, I saw three fair women sitting. Their dark hair blew in tangled strands, and they combed it out with long fingers. At their feet, three sealskins lay in wet gleaming folds.”
The family sat spellbound, their eyes fixed on Bjorn, who stared at the wall as if seeing right through it to the far-distant skerry and the washing waves.
“I leaped down the rocks,” he went on in the same far-off voice. “The air was singing and ringing. The sun winked off the water, sharp as needles. In the blink of an eye the women were gone. All but the nearest! As her sisters threw on their skins and plunged into the water with the seals, I snatched up her sealskin. Heavy, it was—glossy and greasy and reeking of the sea.
“She screamed like a seagull, and her hair fell down over her face and her white shoulders. She stretched out pleading fingers. How she wept! I almost gave it back to her—for sheer pity—but it seemed wrong to wrap such beauty in a stinking sealskin….
“Then I heard a shout. It was Arnë calling, and the boat came knocking along the side of the skerry. And I knew I had to choose.”
Bjorn’s square brown hands knotted. “I’m just a fisherman!” He looked up defiantly. “There I stood with the catch of my life. Suppose I let her go? I already knew that I was caught, too. I’d never forget her. I’d grow old still dreaming of her, wishing I’d had the courage to do … what I did then.
“I threw the sealskin down to Arnë. And I put my two arms around her and wrapped her in my cloak and lifted her into the boat.”
Gudrun breathed out a long, wistful sigh. Ralf shuffled his feet uneasily. Hilde sat frowning, her eyes intent on Bjorn. Even the babies were quiet. Peer’s head ached fiercely. So Bjorn admitted it—he had stolen Kersten! In the silence, Sigrid piped up in a puzzled voice. “Is this a true story, Bjorn?”
Bjorn gave a brief, unhappy smile. “A true story?” he echoed. “There are so many stories, aren’t there, sweetheart? Who knows which are true? I told Arnë a different story, and it may have been a better one. He was only fifteen then, no older than Peer is now, and I could see he was scared. ‘Who’s this, brother?’ said he, and his teeth chattered. So I told him I’d found the girl stranded on the skerry. ‘Likely her boat went down,’ I said. ‘No wonder if she’s a bit dazed. Who knows how many nights and days she’s spent on that rock, with only the seals and the sea birds for company?’
“Arnë accepted it. Even to me, it sounded reasonable. But the weather suddenly changed, with a black squall driving over the sea and the waves clapping ag
ainst the skerries in spouts of foam.
“As the boat tossed and Arnë rowed, a face rose out of the water—a face that looked half human, with furious eyes and snarling teeth. A great bull seal it was, and it charged at the boat, roaring. He’d have tipped us over. I still had the harpoon. I threw it without even thinking. It sank deep into his shoulder. He screamed, and the line burned through my hands as he dived, and the water around us was streaked with dark blood and red bubbles. Arnë gave a shout, and the girl flung herself at me, screeching like a wildcat. I had to hold her off, and we fell down together in the bottom of the boat as it pitched and swung. I was nearly as crazy as she. The seal in the water, what was it? Her father, her brother? I knew I’d done her wrong.
“At last she lay quiet. Her long hair trailed in the water, over the side of the boat. I looked at her and it came to me that—” Bjorn hesitated. “—that I was in love with a wild thing out of the sea. With no name. What words could there be between us? What understanding? And so I gave her the only gift I could. I named her, ‘Kersten.’
“Kersten,” he repeated gently. “Well, the sea calmed as though we’d thrown oil on the water. And she leaned toward me, shivering and smiling. Yes, she smiled at me and took my hand, and she spoke for the first time. ‘Do you really wish me to be Kersten? Can you pay the price?’
“I said I would, I would pay anything. She put her fingers on my lips.
“‘Hush! It will be a hard price,’ she said, ‘hard as tearing the heart from your body—and we will both pay it. For as long as you keep the sealskin safe, I will be your Kersten. And while I am with you, the seal-folk will befriend you and drive the mackerel to your nets. But beware of the day we part.’”
There was quite a silence.
“So that’s the story.” Bjorn looked up, his face bleak. “I kept the sealskin locked away, but the years went by and I got careless. I stopped carrying the key about with me—I left it on the shelf. Surely Kersten knew, although I never told her. I thought she loved me. She did love me! But she took the key and unlocked the sealskin. They’ve called her back, the seal-people. Why did she go? Why, without a word to me? After seven years, how could she leave me?
“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?” Bjorn 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!”
Bjorn 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 Bjorn 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, Bjorn. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Listen to Peer, Bjorn,” Ralf urged. “You’re a father now. You mustn’t take risks.”
“A fine father who can’t even give his child a home.” Bjorn stood. “I must go. You don’t mind me coming to see her—from time to time?”
“Really, Bjorn!” exclaimed Gudrun. “What a question!”
Bjorn nodded. His blue gaze traveled slowly over all of them, seeming to burn each of them up. At Peer, he hesitated, a silent appeal in his face. Peer stared back stonily. Bjorn turned away. The door closed behind him.
CHAPTER 5
THE QUARREL
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 tideline, and they may have found poor Kersten by now.”
“But Pa!” Hilde cried. “What about Bjorn’s story? Don’t you believe it?”
“No, Hilde, I don’t.” Ralf paused and looked down at her. “Even Bjorn’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 Bjorn’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!”
Why did sad things have to happen? Why should old folk die and young folk mourn? On a sunny spring morning like this, old Eirik should have been sitting on the bench beside the door, his stick between his knees, composing one of his long poems, or nodding off into one of his many naps. Hilde brushed her eyes with the back of her hand.
Gudrun came into the yard, smoothing down her apron, the dogs trotting at her heels. “Well, if any work at all is to be done this morning, I suppose we women must do it. Goodness, we’re behind! Why haven’t the twins let the chickens out?”
“Where’s Ran?” asked Hilde, going to open the shed.
“She fell asleep again. Tired out still, I expect. What a nice fresh morning! Still, I must get on.”
The hens scattered over the yard to pick snails and insects from the damp ground. With a delighted gurgle, Eirik crawled rapidly after them, but whenever he got close to one, it ran out of reach with a flirt of feathers. With amused apprehension Hilde watched his mouth turn down at the corners.
“You’ll never catch them, Eirik. But look, a dandelion! The first of the year.” She snapped it off and gave it to him. His fingers closed deliberately around the stem, and he sat inspecting it.
Sigurd and Sigrid ran out together.
“Where are you two going?” cried Gudrun.
“Just playing!” Sigurd called back.
“All right, but don’t go too far.” She watched them run off and shook her head at Hilde, who was chuckling. “I know, I know. They ought to do their chores. But they’re still little enough to have some time to play, especially after last night….”
“Ma,” said Hilde, suddenly serious.
“Yes, Hilde?”
“Do you still think Kersten was a seal-woman?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” said Gudrun calmly. “The poor girl’s gone, either way. But it matters what Bjorn thinks. It might be easier if he thought she was dead.”
“But, Ma. If she really was a seal-woman—and Bjorn caught her and kept her, when all the time she wanted to go back—well, how could he do such a thing? It’s … it’s as bad as when Peer’s uncles stole the twins away from us, isn’t it?”
Gudrun snorted. “You’ve got a lot to learn, my girl,” she said cryptically.
“And if it’s not true,” Hilde went on, “if Kersten was ordinary, just like you and me, then it’s almost worse. How could she leave Bjorn and her own little baby, and go a
nd drown herself?”
“You want to know which of them to blame, is that it?” asked Gudrun. “It’s none of our business, Hilde. There’ve been times in my life when I could cheerfully have walked out on the lot of you. Not for long, mind, and I’d draw the line at drowning myself. But having a baby upsets a woman. Sometimes it takes ’em oddly.”
Hilde leaned against the farmhouse wall, picking intensely at the fringe of her apron. “But, Ma, don’t you want to know the truth?”
“Hilde, I know enough to be going on with. I know Bjorn loved his wife, and I believe she loved him. I know he’s in trouble, and I know he’s our friend.” She paused. “And I also know that we haven’t enough flour for tomorrow’s bread, so you’d better begin grinding the barley.”
Hilde groaned.
“As for Peer—” Gudrun lowered her voice. “—he’s upset about this. I don’t want him going down to the shore. Imagine if they find her, drowned! And I don’t want him to hang about brooding. Better if he has a different sort of day. He can take the cows up the fell and keep an eye on the twins if he can. And the sheepfold wall needs mending.”
“All right,” said Hilde in resignation. “I’ll go and tell him.”
She wandered back into the dark farmhouse. Peer was still staring into the fire. She sat down beside him.
“Ma wants you to take the cows up the fell, and look after the twins, and patch up the sheepfold.”
“I think I should go down to the shore,” said Peer gloomily.
Hilde hesitated. “Don’t you think there’s enough people searching already? In any case, if Bjorn’s story is true, they won’t find her, will they?”
“You were right, Hilde. I didn’t believe Bjorn could have done it—but I was wrong. He trapped Kersten!”
“Yes,” said Hilde carefully, “but I’ve just been asking Ma, and she seems to think it’s more complicated than that.”
“I messed everything up last night.”
“No, you didn’t!” Hilde began to feel annoyed with him. “What more could you have done? Ma’s right, nobody could have found Kersten in the dark.”
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