Thorfinn and the Terrible Treasure

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Thorfinn and the Terrible Treasure Page 1

by David MacPhail




  For Hazel, Eoïn and Samuel – D.M.

  To Viking Harriet, the Eyebrow Masher – R.M.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  This story begins, as the best ones often do, with a mangy old elk standing on a hillside.

  HA! Only kidding!

  It starts, of course, with a treasure map…

  Not with finding the map, which was, in itself, an interesting story…

  Not even with the search for the treasure, a long and dangerous journey full of sword-fights and sea battles…

  It begins with two fearsome Viking chiefs standing together on a sand dune in the remote Scottish Western Isles, watching their men dig a giant hole in the ground. On the treasure map, this is where ‘X’ marked the spot.

  A spade struck solid wood, and everyone held their breath. But it was just someone’s wooden leg.

  “AAARGH!”

  Luckily after a few more minutes digging, the spade struck wood again and this time the Vikings uncovered a solid-oak chest.

  The two chiefs, who were from different villages around the same fjord in Norway, eyed each other like vultures.

  “Remember our deal!” growled Harald the Skull-Splitter, Chief of Indgar village, and one of the most fearsome Viking warriors in the entire world. His giant bushy beard glimmered gold in the sun.

  “We split the loot equally,” bellowed Magnus the Bone-Breaker, Chief of Vennagar village, which was right next door to Indgar.

  “No tricks this time, Bone-Breaker!” Harald’s eye twitched in the direction of his rival. Harald’s eye always twitched when he was angry. Legend had it that even fully grown bears would run away when they saw his twitchy eye. “Any tricks, and we’ll tie you to your ship’s mast, sail you over the edge of the world and serve you up as supper to the krakens.”

  Magnus rolled his eyes and sighed. “Oh, don’t be such a drama queen.”

  Harald’s eye was now twitching so fast, it was practically popping out of his head. “I mean it!” he roared. “Or we’ll make you walk the plank into a cess-pit!”

  Down in the hole, the diggers clawed sand from around the chest and attached ropes to it.

  “HEEEAVE!”

  The men at the top of the hole hauled it into the air and threw it onto the sand at the feet of the chiefs.

  “Get me something to break the lock!” boomed Harald.

  A large man grabbed the nearest solid object to hand, which happened to be a wooden leg.

  “Aaargh! Gimme a break!” cried the one-legged Viking, who had been trying to put it back on.

  Harald gave the leg a mighty swing… and smashed the lock into pieces, and the leg too.

  Holding their breath, the two chiefs prised open the lid of the chest, and threw it back.

  CHAPTER 2

  The Vikings’ wildest dreams had come true. The chest was overflowing with treasure.

  “I’m rich! I’ll never have to pillage again!” Magnus grabbed a handful of precious stones.

  “Knock it off!” cried Harald, snatching the stones away. “No one touches the loot until we’ve counted it.”

  The two chiefs snarled at each other, with fists clenched white around the hilts of their swords. Their men did likewise.

  A small boy who had a pigeon perched on his shoulder finally broke the stand-off. “Pardon me,” he said, raising his helmet. “But shall we have a spot of supper? Nobody can enjoy their work on an empty stomach.” He knelt down to speak to the one-legged Viking. “And I’ll gladly make you a new leg, old pal.”

  This was Thorfinn, Harald’s son – a very unusual Viking. Unusual because he was nice. VERY nice. In fact, his Viking name was Thorfinn the Very-Very-Nice-Indeed. Being nice was not something Vikings were known for.

  “By ODIN’S BEARD!” cried Harald. “Yes, Thorfinn my boy! But we can do much better than a spot of supper. We’ll have a feast, A FEAST! Let there be food! And ale! And burping!”

  “BAAAARP!”

  “YESSS!” cried Magnus, forgetting his differences with Harald, and joining in with a rip-roaring belch:

  “BUUUURRRRP!”

  They all headed down to the beach to prepare the fire and begin the festivities.

  “WAIT!” said Harald. “We need someone to guard the treasure. Just in case.”

  The two chiefs once more ogled each other suspiciously. Their hands once again reached for their sword hilts. “GRRRR!”

  “My men will guard it,” said Magnus.

  Harald burst into laughter. “HA! Your men?”

  “What?” shrugged Magnus, pretending to be offended. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “I wouldn’t trust your men to guard a pot of reindeer stew,” said Harald. “No, I’ll put my best man on it. I’ll take personal responsibility.”

  Magnus rubbed his beard. “What did you say? You’ll take personal responsibility?”

  “Yes, my guard is so trustworthy, I’d stake my entire village on him.” Harald puffed out his chest.

  “There… you heard him,” Magnus whispered to his crew. “If anything goes missing it’s on him, and we get his village too.”

  Harald’s second-in-command, Erik the Ear-Masher, nudged Harald on the elbow. Erik only had one eye. The other was covered by an eye patch. His face was like a squashed cabbage and his black beard was almost as large and bushy as Harald’s. “Watch it, Chief! That piece of elk dung called Magnus has been trying to steal Indgar village from us for years.”

  Harald hesitated, but he couldn’t back down now without losing face. “Nothing will go missing under my man’s nose.”

  “It’s a deal then,” said Magnus. “But tell me, what kind of fearsome shield-warrior, what kind of savage wolf-wrestler do you have for a guard, that you would stake your entire village on him?”

  Harald turned and bellowed,

  “THORFINN!”

  Thorfinn was collecting driftwood for the fire. He turned and raised his helmet once again.

  “Yes, my dear sirs, how can I be of assistance?”

  CHAPTER 3

  Erik the Ear-Masher stared at Harald in wide-eyed horror. “Thorfinn?! Thorfinn is going to guard all that lovely treasure?!”

  Magnus burst out in deep, booming laughter. “THIS is your savage wolf-wrestler?! He’d have trouble wrestling a kitten.”

  Harald shrugged. “He may not look much of a Viking, but he’s smart, he’s proved himself many times in the past, and he’s the most honest of us all.”

  Beside Thorfinn were his two best friends. Velda was a tiny girl with red hair and an oversized helmet. She glared at the chiefs, swinging her axe about, as if ready to crack someone on the head at the slightest excuse. “Wotcha!” she said gruffly.

  Then there was Oswald, the wise man of Indgar village, who was incredibly old and had an incredibly long beard. He’d perfected the art of sleeping on his feet, and was snoozing gently, his head lolled to one side.

  “Hey, is that old man actually asleep?” asked Magnus.

  Oswald let loose a loud, ripping snore.

  “ZZZZZZZZZ!”

  Harald knelt down and placed a mighty arm around his son’s shoulders. “Now, Thorfinn, gua
rd the treasure with your life. The fate of Indgar rests in your hands. I know you won’t let me down. I’ll send someone up to the dunes with your food.”

  “Why, of course, dear Father. I’ll do anything to help,” replied Thorfinn.

  “Good lad!” Harald went off towards the beach, rubbing his hands and whistling. “Oh, goodie! A feast! I’m starving!”

  Erik shouted after him, “You can’t stake the whole village on Thorfinn! How will he defend himself if someone attacks him? By throwing scones at them? We need another guard.” He turned and bellowed in the direction of his own son, who was down on the beach digging a pit for the fire.

  “O-LAAAFFFF!”

  Olaf was a large boy who took after his father in the looks department. He also had a face like a cabbage, one that had gone mouldy and been trampled by a herd of elks.

  “Why me?!” he huffed as he reached them. “Why do you always pick me? People are going to think me and Thorfinn are friends.”

  “I’d be more worried about that if I was Thorfinn,” scoffed Velda.

  “Oh, ha ha!” said Olaf scowling.

  “I’ll help you guard the treasure, Thorfinn – no thieves will get past me.” Velda flashed her axe.

  “Thank you so much for your kind offer,” said Thorfinn, “but I wouldn’t dream of troubling you. Go and enjoy the feast.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Viking feasts were a long, messy, riotous business. They often lasted several days, after which the ‘survivors’ couldn’t remember why they’d started feasting in the first place.

  While the meal was being cooked, Harald declared a wrestling contest, which he promptly won. He took on three men at once, lifting each of them up over his head, spinning them round and launching them into the crowd.

  “YAHHHH!”

  Some of the spectators took exception to having other Vikings thrown at them. They snarled and leapt into the ring to join the fight.

  Another group of men launched into a Viking song:

  “Oh, oh, oh, oh, Vikings will a-hunting go,

  Ay, ay, ay ay, hunting all the live-long day.”

  Harald gazed across the beach full of Vikings, singing, making merry and throwing punches at one another, and he laughed – a gigantic bellowing laugh that erupted from his great barrel-shaped chest. “OHHHH, I do love a good feast!”

  Soon the food was put down in front of them and the men set upon it like snapping crocodiles. They ripped apart meat with their bare hands, gnawing on bones and spitting out gristly bits for their dogs to fight over.

  Afterwards, Magnus the Bone-Breaker climbed on top of a barrel.

  “VIKINGS!” His booming voice brought about an unusual moment of quiet. “I have exactly sixty-five men in my crew. As a special treat, you’re about to see each and every one of them walk over hot coals.”

  The watching crowd looked puzzled. Sure enough, Magnus’s men were all lined up, barefoot, in front of the fire. They looked far from eager.

  Magnus stood at the other side of the fire pit and urged them forward. “Hurry up, you cretins! Move it!”

  Velda watched, unimpressed, as the men tiptoed across, yelping in pain. “What exactly is the point of this?” She turned to Oswald, who’d fallen asleep again. “I’m off to take Thorfinn and Olaf some food, OK?”

  Oswald let loose another rasping snore.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

  She collected a tray and two bowls, and dolloped steaming-hot spoonfuls of stew into them, before filling up two mugs of water from a barrel. As she was making her way through the crowd, a tall, cloaked figure barged into her and nearly knocked the food flying.

  “Oi!” she screamed after him, shaking her fist. “You wanna watch it, mate!”

  She caught a flash of ginger hair from under the hood, and a braided beard. But the figure ducked out of sight.

  “Tchoh! Some people!”

  She shook her head and climbed the slope into the dunes, where she found Thorfinn and Olaf guarding the treasure, warming their hands by a small fire.

  “Hello, Thorfinn, here’s your dinner.” She held out the tray towards him.

  “Why thank you, old pal,” replied Thorfinn, taking his bowl.

  “Oh, and I brought yours too, turnip features.” She plonked Olaf’s bowl down on the sand.

  Velda sat with them while they ate. The sun was beginning to set over the sea.

  “I can stay up here if you like?” said Velda.

  “I wouldn’t dream of inconveniencing you,” said Thorfinn. “The festivities will last all night – go and enjoy yourself. Olaf and I will take turns to keep watch.”

  “OK.” Velda got up, wiping the sand off her hands. “There’s an axe-throwing competition in a while and I’m going to win it! See you in the morning.”

  Olaf watched her go then yawned. “Oh, I’m tired. I might just doze off. You take the first watch, Thorfinn.”

  “Right you are, old bean,” said Thorfinn.

  Olaf rolled over and fell fast asleep. But soon, Thorfinn began to feel sleepy too. It was a strange, heavy sort of sleepiness that he’d never felt before. He shook his head.

  “Percy, I mustn’t go to sleep,” he whispered urgently to his pet pigeon. “I must stay awake and guard the treasure.”

  Percy gave him a gentle peck on the nose, followed by a sharp one.

  But, try as he might, Thorfinn couldn’t keep his eyes open. The next thing he knew he was dreaming about hurtling downhill in a cart, being tossed from side to side.

  ***

  Thorfinn woke with a huge jolt.

  It was daylight.

  Someone was shaking him and lots of angry Viking faces were glaring down at him.

  “Thorfinn! THORFINN!” It was his father, shaking him furiously. “Thorfinn, where’s the treasure?”

  “Hmm?”

  There was a large hollow in the sand where the chest had stood. The treasure had gone.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Where’s our treasure, boy?!” growled Erik the Ear-Masher.

  “Oh dear,” replied Thorfinn. “I really don’t know. Olaf and I were…”

  “ASLEEP!” cried Harald. “You were snoring, counting elks, while someone made off with our loot!”

  Percy, who was perched on a log nearby, shrugged and seemed to scratch his head with his wing.

  Erik the Ear-Masher was dangling his son Olaf by the scruff of the neck. “I think someone put something in our food!” Olaf croaked.

  “Yes! Of course!” said Harald. He glowered at Magnus, who was standing back, his arms folded and a smug expression on his face. “I knew it, Bone-Breaker! This is your trickery.”

  “Me?!” Magnus looked insulted, in an over-the-top sort of way. “You accuse me?”

  “You wanted all the treasure for yourself, you rat!”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Magnus replied. “How could I have done it? Me and my men were on the beach. You counted each and every one of them, walking over hot coals.”

  There was no denying it. “He’s right. It couldn’t have been him,” Harald said in a daze.

  “You know what this means, don’t you, Chief?” growled Erik.

  “Oh yes,” said Magnus, with an even-smugger-if-that-was-possible look. “Harald gave us his personal guarantee, which means…”

  Harald’s face was white. “I lose my village. I’ve lost Indgar.”

  There was a moment’s stunned silence as Harald’s men took this in.

  “Exactly,” said Magnus, laughing. “But there’s good news too. It means I’ve gained a village!”

  Suddenly there was a loud cry, which sounded a bit like a seagull throwing up.

  “HOOOOLLLLLD ON!”

  It was Oswald.

  “You can’t have our village yet, and I’ll tell you why—” Before he could say anything further he tripped over his beard and fell flat on his face.

  Thorfinn helped him up.

  Oswald dusted himself off and co
ntinued. “Viking law is clear. Our chief has fourteen days to either find the treasure or pay back its value. If he can’t complete his task, then you can have the village. They don’t call me the wise man for nothing,” he added.

  Erik snorted, kicking up dust with his boot. “Whoever made off with the chest is long gone. We’ll never find the treasure again.”

  Magnus agreed. “And as for paying us back, there was a fortune in that chest. You’ll never be able to raise enough money.”

  Harald growled. “Well, we’re going to try!”

  Magnus shrugged. “Oh, well, fine. Fourteen days it is. Also,” he added, “you have to leave your two guards behind on the island until the time is up.” He leaned into Thorfinn and Olaf’s faces and sneered. “Marooned and alone…”

  “What for?” Harald protested.

  “Punishment!”

  “They’re just boys!”

  “You should have thought of that before you put them in charge of the loot, you oaf!”

  Harald swallowed the insult, and Magnus led his men back to their longships and set sail. Erik stomped off in a huff and kicked a boulder.

  “OWWWW!”

  “What do we do now, Chief?” asked Harald’s men.

  “We’ll head back to Indgar,” said Harald. “We’ll have to find a way of raising the money.”

  The Indgar Vikings turned towards their ships – all except Velda. “I’m staying,” she said.

  Thorfinn’s face lit up. “Are you really, old friend? Oh, it’ll be such fun. We can have campfires and sing-songs and tell stories.”

  “Aargh! Throw me in the sea!” cried Olaf. “Anything’s better than fourteen days stuck in this hell-hole with you two.”

 

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