It was noon, boiling hot, and the tide was in. Splinters of light flew off the water like darts. Hilde marched on. She trod gratefully into the baking banks of seaweed, brittle on top, soft and slippery beneath. Sand fleas hopped over her toes. To her right, the sea curled over onto the strand and drained out through the pebbles with a crackling sound.
Farther along, the rocks became too big to negotiate while carrying a baby. A ridge of them ran out into the water like a knobbly backbone. With an effort, Hilde clambered up on to a big one shaped like the prow of a ship, rough to her bare feet, sharp, warm in the sun. She sat down with Ran in her lap, watching the waves. They tilted casually up against the rocks and burst into rich white fragments, spattering her with cold salty kisses. Then they sank back, and an exuberant tracery of foam swirled after them.
Hilde sat there, thinking poisoned thoughts. Is it true, what Asa said? Bjorn doesn’t want Ran anymore because she’s got seal blood? Is that why he hasn’t come to see her? It seemed horribly possible. She dropped an angry kiss on Ran’s silky dark head.
She looked up, twisting her neck to see behind her. Farther around the point there were sea caves, dark hiding places scoured out by winter storms. But here the cliffs slithered to the shore in rubble and treacherous screes. Only gulls could set foot on the sunbaked, crumbling ledges. Her eyes followed the birds wheeling out from their nests, slicing the wind: guillemots diving, herring gulls and black-backed gulls quarreling in great tangled knots on the surface, screaming over the fish.
Hilde longed to scream too. At Asa—Stupid woman! At Arnë—Because he’s forgotten me. At Bjorn—Why should we have to bring Ran to him? He should have come to us! And at Peer—Still gawping at me with sheep’s eyes!
Suddenly the gulls lifted, scattering into the air. Where they had been—Hilde’s heart gave a great skip and a thud—there was a shape in the water, drifting as long as a man … or a woman.
Kersten! Oh no, I don’t want to see! Kersten drowned weeks ago! Hilde scrambled to her feet in a panic. She stood upright on the rock, clutching Ran and staring, staring into the sea, all the skin on her body prickling with horror. There it was again, a dark mass glancing through a wave, floating just under the surface. Slick, slimy, glistening, it broke through in a formless curve. Hilde drew her breath to scream—
Then she saw. The shape bunched, twisted. A flipper smacked the water. There was a sharp exhalation of breath. A head rose from the waves, small, glossy, with huge shining eyes.
And looked at her.
Balanced on the rock, Hilde gazed into those wild, joyful eyes. Ran leaned forward in her arms, struggling. The sea swung upward, sank back. Overhead, the gulls screamed in circles, and the cliffs seemed to lean over, watching.
“K-Kersten? Is that you?”
Hilde’s whisper was too soft, too tentative, to be heard over the clap and crash of water on the rocks. She waited, trembling. Now something would happen. Some enormous secret would be told, some sorrowful, dark message delivered. All would be explained.
This was meant to be. At last we will know. At last we will understand!
Then, as she held her breath, the seal was gone. She did not even see it go. The bright waves danced over the place where it had been, and the spray flew.
“Ran!” She turned the baby to her cheek, and both their faces were salty and wet. “Was that your mother?” Feeling Ran grasp her hair, she caught the little hand, holding it up. The sun shone scarlet through the thin, almost transparent webs of skin looping between finger and finger. Hilde closed the hand and kissed it.
“You, a freak?” she muttered. “How dare they! Come on, baby. Let’s go and find your father.”
CHAPTER 13
SIGHTINGS
PEER AND RALF sat on an upturned boat talking to Harald Bowlegs and old Thorkell.
“I just think some of you could go out with Bjorn!” Ralf was arguing. Harald, a spare, bony man with a bald pate and a ring of long, thin hair descending over his shoulders, wagged his finger at Ralf.
“It’s easy for you to talk, Ralf. You don’t live down here on the shore like the rest of us!”
“Bjorn’s doomed,” wheezed Thorkell. His white hair and beard fluttered in the breeze, and his pale blue eyes blinked and watered.
“That’s right!” Harald nodded emphatically. “He stole from the sea. Now he’ll pay the price. You think any of us want to pay it with him?” He glanced up and saw Hilde crossing the shingle toward them. He paled indignantly. “She’s got that creature with her, hasn’t she? The seal brat! I’m off!” And he hurried away up the strand.
Hilde watched him go, with a disgusted toss of her head. She wanted to tell Ralf and Peer about the seal she had seen, but if she talked about it in front of old Thorkell, it would be all around the village in half an hour. “Where’s Bjorn?” she asked.
“At home, they tell me.” Ralf got up. “Well, Thorkell, we’ll go and knock on his door. Won’t you come too?”
Thorkell shook his head. “No, no. I’ll have nothing to do with him.” His pale eyes grew wide. “The draug boat’s a-following him, Ralf, drawn after him like a seagull to the plough, or a raven to a fresh carcass! Aye, it’s a-smelling out death, and it’s drawing closer. But you won’t be told. You’re rash folk. Even the lad!” He shot a sharp look at Peer.
“Me? What have I done?” Peer asked in surprise.
“Meddled with Grimsson’s mill, that’s what,” said the old man.
“It’s mine now,” said Peer rather stiffly. “You’ll soon find out, Thorkell—it’ll be a great thing for the village to have it running again. We worked it yesterday, and it ran perfectly.”
“Oh, aye.” Thorkell pointed a gnarled finger at him. “Working at night, too, are you?”
“At n-night?” Peer stammered. “No.”
“I thought not!” Thorkell slapped his knee. “I thought you didn’t know. Well, it does work at nights, laddie! You’ve stirred up a heap of trouble there. I’ve heard it, when the wind blows off Troll Fell; I’ve heard it clack-clack-clacking away, working all by itself! A sound to make you shudder. I wouldn’t go past that place at night, not for a pocketful of gold!”
“And you’ve heard this often?” Peer asked. “Recently?”
“Many times.” Thorkell nodded fiercely.“Many times!”
Peer didn’t quite believe him. But he made up his mind then and there to slip down to the mill that evening and see if anything happened.
“Working, all by itself!” Thorkell repeated, glaring at them.
Ralf clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for the warning,” he said cheerfully. “Peer will keep his eyes open, won’t you, Peer? And now we’ll be off. Good day, Thorkell!”
He turned away, leaving Thorkell sitting on the boat, staring sourly after him. Peer and Hilde ran to catch up. “Daft old fellow,” Ralf was muttering. “What an old nanny goat he is. Your grandfather never liked him, Hilde, and no wonder!” At the top of the beach, he stopped.
“Now for Bjorn!”
“P-Pa,” Hilde stammered. “Asa says Bjorn doesn’t want Ran. Asa says—”
“I don’t want to hear what Asa says!” Ralf bellowed. “I want to hear what Bjorn has to say!”
“Yes, Pa. And …” Hilde hesitated, trying to frame her thoughts. I saw a seal. Ran and I saw a seal, and I thought it would speak to us. I asked a seal if it was Kersten.
It sounded quite mad put into words. But she tried. “I was up near the point, Pa, sitting on a big rock with Ran, and a seal came. It was watching us.”
“Oh yes? Well, they’re curious beasts.”
“I know, but I just thought … I did wonder …”
“Did it talk?”
Hilde blushed. “No.”
“I thought not,” said Ralf. “Don’t mention it to Bjorn, Hilde. It really wouldn’t be fair.”
All the same, thought Hilde, remembering the timeless moment when she’d been certain the seal would speak, something special happened. Somet
hing I can’t explain. She hurried along after her father, distressed, as though she’d been given a message that she couldn’t deliver.
Outside Bjorn’s house, Ralf knocked, and knocked again. Finally he pushed the door open and stepped in. Hilde and Peer followed. A thin column of smoke dawdled up from the hearth. Beyond, Bjorn lay on the bed, rolled in a blanket. His head was propped uncomfortably against the wall, as if he had fallen asleep while trying to keep awake. Ralf shook him gently.
Bjorn stirred, groaning. He sat up, scrubbing his fingers into his eyes, and tried to focus. “Ralf?” he croaked. Then his eyes opened properly and he snatched at Ralf. “Is there news?”
“No. No, lad. We’ve come to see you, that’s all. Me and Hilde—and Peer. We’ve brought the baby; seems a while since you saw the little lass. She’s doing fine, as you can see….” Ralf talked on, in the soothing tone he would use to a startled animal, and Bjorn’s tense muscles relaxed.
“Sorry.” He sounded more awake now. “Haven’t slept much, lately.” He got up, stifling an enormous yawn, and saw Ran in Hilde’s arms.
“She’s grown!” was all he said, but even through the indoor gloom, Hilde saw his face soften.
“Go to Pappa!” she exclaimed, passing the baby over. Bjorn held her easily, tipping her back into the crook of his arm and tickling her. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Hello,” he whispered, bending his head over her. “Hello!” The baby waved her arms and gurgled.
Ralf put his arm around Hilde’s shoulders. “So much for Asa’s spiteful gossip,” he whispered in her ear.
Hanging back behind the other two, Peer watched. Bjorn sat barefoot, the sleeves of his old blue jerkin pushed up, crooning to his child, who gazed back at him with wide eyes.
He’s not so very much older than me, after all, Peer realized, shaken. And he’s not some hero. He’s a fisherman. He’s never claimed to be anything more. But he’s good with a boat, and he’s brave, and he’s always been kind to me. Why couldn’t I see he was in a state of shock last time we met? Why did I lose my temper? And now—I don’t suppose he’ll want to be friends again…. There was a painful knot in his chest as he remembered some of the things he’d said.
“Thanks for coming to see me,” said Bjorn. His eyes met Peer’s. All of a sudden his face split into the old smile, tired but welcoming. “Hey, Peer!”
The tight knot in Peer’s chest shook loose. Whatever had happened between Bjorn and Kersten, whatever had been said or done, it didn’t matter anymore. This was just Bjorn, the same as ever. He took a deep, relieved breath. “I’m sorry, Bjorn. I was wrong, I—I didn’t understand.” He held out his hand, and Bjorn gripped it, hard enough to stop the blood flowing.
“Ouch!” Peer yelped, laughing, glad to excuse the tears in his eyes.
Bjorn let go. He said sadly, “I don’t blame you for getting angry with me. I’ve been angry with myself. And most of the village is finding it hard to understand. They say the draug boat’s following me.”
“Yes, we’ve heard that from certain people,” Ralf growled.
“You mean Harald and Thorkell.” Bjorn shut his eyes for a second, as if there was something he didn’t want to see. “I’d like not to believe it. But … I don’t sleep very well. I hear things outside the house at night.”
“Things? What do you mean?” asked Hilde.
“Every night, they come wading to shore after dark and cluster around the house, dripping and whispering and picking at the door. I lie awake, listening, but I can never quite hear what they say. That’s why I haven’t come up the valley. In case they follow me.”
Peer felt cold.
“Nonsense,” said Ralf gently. “You’re not sleeping well, you’ve said so yourself. I’ll warrant you don’t eat properly, either!”
Bjorn shook his head. He looked down, stroking Ran’s hair with his rough, blunt fingers. “No, no, they’re real.”
“But, Bjorn.” Hilde dropped to her knees beside him. “What’s this all about? What is the black seal Thorkell saw?”
“Ah, him,” said Bjorn with a slight shiver. “I’ve seen him too. That’s the one I have to watch out for, Hilde. That’s the same one I threw the harpoon at, seven years ago.”
Ralf snorted. “How can you know that?”
Bjorn looked at him steadily. “Because, the other evening, I went to take the boat out. But when I tried to run it down the shingle, it wouldn’t budge. It might as well have been filled with stones. I looked over the gunwale, and there was a big man lying down inside. He bared his teeth at me, and I gave a shout, and he bounded out of the boat and ran. I saw then the broken harpoon sticking out of his shoulder.”
Hilde clutched Ralf’s arm. Bjorn added, “It was after sunset. He ran into the sea. And I heard splashing and wallowing in the shallows. And if that’s what Thorkell saw, you can understand why I’m not too popular in the village right now.”
Ralf sat silently. “A strange story,” he said at last. “I don’t know what to say, Bjorn. If there’s anything in it, you need help.”
At that moment, the latch clicked noisily. They all jumped. Gudrun elbowed her way in, a basket over her arm.
“Gudrun!” said Ralf. “I thought you were still with Asa. Where’s Eirik?”
“I’ve given Asa a piece of my mind, which she won’t forget in a hurry,” Gudrun said. “I pinned her ears back, I can tell you! Eirik’s on the beach, playing with the twins.” She laid the basket down. “How are you, Bjorn? You look tired. I’ve brought some of our eggs. You sit there with the baby, and I’ll cook them for you.”
“Eggs?” said Bjorn appreciatively. “Now this is nice. This is very nice!” He leaned back, letting Ran sprawl on his chest, as he watched Gudrun scramble the eggs on a black iron skillet. A dreamy smile curled the corners of his mouth.
“Did I ever tell you what happened to Kersten once? She’d been out on the cliffs, climbing after gulls’ eggs. She’d got a tidy collection, and had nowhere to put them but in her apron. So she was coming home, really carefully, holding up her apron with all these eggs in it. I was at the back of the house, and I heard her calling me. I didn’t know what she’d been doing, and I came around the corner behind her and put my arms around her to give her a great big hug. And the eggs went everywhere!” He laughed at the memory. “Splat, splat, splat! Wasn’t she annoyed! How she scolded me! She called me a clumsy bear, but she couldn’t help laughing.”
The merriment died from his face. He stared blankly into the fire. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. No explanation. No time to say good-bye. Just—gone!”
Hilde caught her breath. Now—now was the moment to say something! It had been so clear, so strong, that moment of joyful certainty. She knew she was meant to tell Bjorn about it. But what can I say? We saw a seal, and it seemed to be telling us that everything’s all right? That the world is beautiful, and life and death are in their proper places? What will Pa think of that? He’ll just be angry with me for raising Bjorn’s hopes.
She hesitated too long. Gudrun wiped her hands on her apron. “Give Ran to me, Bjorn, while you eat up your eggs, and then you can have her back. The little thing needs you. You’ve been a stranger for long enough. Surely by now you’ve given up looking for her poor mother?”
Bjorn took a mouthful of the hot, buttery eggs. He ate silently for a while, and then said stubbornly, “I’ve not given up, Gudrun. She’s out there among the skerries. Even if she’s forgotten me, even if she’s wild now and doesn’t remember—perhaps, if she saw me, she’d come back. I’m hunting her, and the black seal’s hunting me. It’s all a matter of time, now. One day soon, the boat will capsize, or a wave will swamp me. That’s how it will be. But I don’t regret a thing. I’d do it all over again! Not many fishermen live to be old, anyway.”
Gudrun threw down the skillet with a crash.
“Shame on you, Bjorn, for talking like that! Anyone would think you’d made up your mind to drown. Which you will, if you keep taking that little boat o
f yours out alone, and in all weathers. There’d be nothing surprising about that. As for black seals and draug boats, fancy believing a word of anything dreamed up by old Thorkell and Harald Bowlegs! I thought you had more sense.”
“I’ve seen the seal myself,” said Bjorn gently.
“Anybody can see a seal!” Gudrun cried.
But Ma told us herself about how the gray seals can take mortal shape, thought Hilde, puzzled. Doesn’t she believe it anymore?
“Living like this is doing you no good at all,” Gudrun went on. She swung around. “Ralf, the boy needs help. Tell him! I’m surprised you haven’t already!”
Ralf blinked. “Tell him what, Gudrun?”
“My goodness!” Gudrun put her hands on her hips. “Tell him you’ll go with him to Hammerhaven to fetch his brother, of course. To fetch Arnë. What are you waiting for?”
Ralf’s face cracked into a huge grin. “Gudrun, you’re amazing!” He sprang to his feet like a dog set loose. “She’s right, Bjorn. What do you say? If you and I go in the boat, we can reach Hammerhaven tonight. If Arnë’s ashore, we’ll bring him back tomorrow. If he’s out fishing, we can wait for him.”
Bjorn began to object. “I can’t bring Arnë into this. He’s busy with the fishing. He has a partner who depends on him.”
Gudrun rolled her eyes. “It’s very simple, Bjorn. If Arnë was in trouble, wouldn’t you want to help him?”
“She’s right again,” said Ralf. “He’s your brother, Bjorn. He’ll want to be here to help you.”
Very slowly, Bjorn nodded. “I should like to see him,” he admitted.
“Then we’re off!” Ralf rubbed his hands. “Two, three days—it shouldn’t take more. Get your boots on, man!” He stuck his head out of the door. “A light wind coming down the fjord, and the tide was high a couple of hours ago. If we leave now, we can sail out on the ebb and row into Hammerhaven with the flood.”
“But be careful,” said Gudrun, suddenly nervous. “The faering is such a little boat. You won’t go near the skerries?”
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