West of the Moon

by Katherine Langrish

  “They say,” whispered Asa, “that the draug boat follows him now, every time he goes out.”

  “Harald’s seen it,” Einar continued. “Out beyond the point, three days ago. He saw Bjørn’s boat, sailing in, and beyond it another. But this second boat wasn’t always there.”

  “That’s silly,” said Hilde, who was listening, with Ran swaddled on her knee. “Harald got spray in his eyes, I should think.”

  “No,” said Asa. “It was a six-oarer, with a dark sail, and it flickered in and out of sight like a butterfly’s wings. There, and then gone.

  “And what about the odd thing Thorkell saw on the beach? Only a week ago – late evening, nearly dark. He’s coming along past the boats, and he hears something cough. He looks around, and he sees this big, dark shape heaving itself up out of Bjørn’s boat. It topples over the side and starts to drag itself along on the shingle, scrunching and moaning.

  “Like a huge black seal it was, as far as he could see in the gloaming: but there’s something uncanny about it, and it’s coming closer and closer, and he can’t hobble fast, old Thorkell. So he picks up a rock and flings it straight at the creature! Up it jumps, taller than a man; and clatters off on two legs, away down the shingle!”

  Gudrun raised a sceptical eyebrow. There was a short silence. Asa wriggled on her seat and changed the subject. “So this is Bjørn’s baby, Gudrun,” she said, avidly studying Ran. “Is it true she’s a freak?”

  “A freak?” Hilde gasped. “She’s quite normal!”

  Asa’s face fell. “But I heard she has hair all over her body! And seal’s paws, instead of hands. Surely that’s why Bjørn won’t have anything to do with her?”

  Protectively, Hilde’s hands flew to cover Ran’s.

  “You shouldn’t believe all you hear, Asa,” said Gudrun in a calm voice.

  “Well!” Asa bridled. “I wouldn’t dare to bring up a baby like that along with my own children: but you’ve always been bold, Gudrun. At least I suppose you’ve given up thinking of Bjørn’s brother Arne for young Hilde. There’s a curse on that family now!”

  “Hilde!” said Gudrun swiftly. “Why don’t you join the twins on the beach? Take Ran and go for a walk. It’s lovely out there in the sunshine!”

  With a burning face Hilde scrambled up and blundered thankfully out into the hot sunlight. Behind her, she heard her mother begin in scorching tones: “Now just you listen to me, Asa…”

  “Give it to her, Ma!” Hilde stuck out her tongue at the house, hitched Ran up in her arms, and walked through the village and up over the sand dunes. Down on the beach Sigurd and Sigrid were playing with Einar’s two little boys, throwing pebbles into the water to make them skip. A couple of boats were drawn up on the shingle, and she could see Ralf and Peer talking with a small group of the village men: she couldn’t see Bjørn.

  Hilde turned the other way. She kicked off her shoes and paddled through the stream where it fanned out over the sand. Ahead, the cliffs under Troll Fell rose steeply out of the water, and the strand narrowed to a jumble of rocks at the point where the fjord met the open sea.

  It was noon, boiling hot, and the tide was in. Splinters of light flew off the water like darts. Hilde trod gratefully into baking banks of seaweed, brittle on top, soft and slippery beneath. Sand fleas hopped over her toes. The sea curled over on to the strand and drained out through the pebbles with a crackling sound.

  Further along, a ridge of rocks extended into the water like a knobbly backbone. With an effort, Hilde clambered on to a big one and sat down with Ran in her lap, thinking poisoned thoughts. Is it true, what Asa said? Bjørn doesn’t want Ran because she’s got seal blood? Is that why he doesn’t come to see her? It seemed horribly possible. She dropped an angry kiss on Ran’s silky dark head.

  Waves tilted casually against the rocks and burst, spattering her with their cold salty spray. Then they sank back, and an embroidery of foam swirled after them. Further out, seabirds were diving: guillemots, cormorants and gulls quarrelling in great tangled knots on the surface, screaming over the fish.

  Hilde longed to scream too – at Asa (stupid woman!) – at Arne (because he’s forgotten me) – at Bjørn (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 – a shape drifted in the water, 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. 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 upwards, 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.

  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 31

  More Rumours

  PEER AND RALF sat on an upturned boat talking to Harald Bowlegs and old Thorkell.

  “I just think someone ought to sail with Bjørn,” Ralf argued.

  “Bjørn’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. “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 towards them. He paled. “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. “Where’s Bjørn?”

  “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 of him, Ralf, drawn after him like 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. “You’ll soon find out, Thorkell – it’ll be a great thing for the village. We worked it yesterday and it ran perfectly.”

  “Oh, aye.” Thorkell pointed a gnarled finger at him. “Working at night, too, are you?”

  “At night?” Peer stammered. “No.”

  “I thought not!” Thorkell slapped his knee. “I thought you didn’t know! Well, it does work at nights, laddie! I’ve heard
it, when the wind blows off Troll Fell; I’ve heard it clack-clackclacking away. Working all by itself! You’ve stirred up a heap of trouble there. I wouldn’t go past that place at night for a pocketful of gold!”

  “And you’ve heard this often?” Peer enquired. “Recently?”

  “Many times,” nodded Thorkell fiercely. “Many times!”

  Peer didn’t believe him. But he made up his mind 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! Peer will keep his eyes open, won’t you, Peer? And now we’ll be off. Good day to you!”

  He strode off so fast, Peer and Hilde had to run to catch up. “Daft old fellow,” Ralf was muttering. “What an old nanny-goat he is.”

  “P-Pa,” Hilde stammered. “Asa says Bjørn doesn’t want Ran. Asa says —”

  “I don’t want to hear what Asa says!” Ralf bellowed. “I want to hear what Bjørn has to say!”

  “Yes, Pa. And…” Hilde hesitated, trying to frame her thoughts. I saw a seal. We saw a seal, and I thought it would speak to us. I asked a seal if it was Kersten. It sounded mad, put into words. But she tried. “I was up near the point, Pa, sitting on a rock with Ran, and a seal came. It was watching us.”

  “Yes? Well, they’re curious beasts.”

  “I know, but I thought – I did wonder…”

  “Did it speak?”

  Hilde blushed. “No.”

  “I thought not,” said Ralf. “Don’t mention it to Bjørn, Hilde. It really wouldn’t be fair.”

  All the same, thought Hilde, something special happened. Something I can’t explain. She hurried after her father, distressed, as though she’d been given a message that she couldn’t deliver.

  Outside Bjørn’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. Bjørn lay on the bed, propped against the wall, as if he had fallen asleep while trying to keep awake. Ralf shook him gently.

  Bjørn groaned. He sat up, scrubbing his fingers into his eyes. “Ralf?” 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 Bjørn 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. Bjørn held her easily, tipping her back in 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.

  Hanging back behind the other two, Peer watched. Bjørn 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 much older than me, after all, Peer realised. And he’s not some hero. He’s a fisherman. He’s never claimed to be anything more. But he’s brave, and he’s always been kind to me. Why couldn’t I see he was shocked, last time we met? Why did I lose my temper? There was a painful knot in his chest as he remembered some of the things he’d said.

  “Thanks for coming,” said Bjørn. 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 Bjørn and Kersten, whatever had been said or done, it didn’t matter any more. This was just Bjørn, the same as ever. He held out his hand. “I’m sorry, Bjørn. I was wrong. I didn’t understand.” Bjørn gripped it, hard enough to stop the blood flowing.

  “Ouch!” Peer yelped, laughing, glad to excuse the tears in his eyes.

  Bjørn 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.” Bjørn shut his eyes, as if there was something he didn’t want to see. “I’d like to disbelieve it. But I don’t sleep very well. I hear things outside the house at night.”

  “What things?” asked Hilde.

  Bjørn shrugged. “They come wading to shore after dark and cluster round the house, dripping and whispering, picking at the door. 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.

  “Dreams,” said Ralf gently. “You’re not sleeping well, you’ve said so yourself.”

  Bjørn looked down, stroking Ran’s hair. “No, they’re real.”

  “Bjørn.” Hilde dropped to her knees beside him. “What’s this all about? What is the black seal Thorkell saw?”

  “Ah, him,” said Bjørn with a slight shiver. “I’ve seen him too. That’s the one I have to watch out for, Hilde. That’s the one I threw the harpoon at, seven years ago.”

  Ralf snorted. “How can you know that?”

  Bjørn 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. Bjørn 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, Bjørn. If there’s anything in it, you need help.”

  At that moment, the latch clicked noisily. They all jumped. Gudrun elbowed 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 that 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, Bjørn? I’ve brought some of our eggs. You sit there with the baby, and I’ll cook them for you.”

  “Eggs?” said Bjørn 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 put them in her apron. So she was coming home, really carefully, holding up her apron with all these eggs in it. I didn’t know what she’d been doing, and I came around the back of the house and put my arms round her to give her a great big hug. And the eggs went everywhere!” He laughed at the memory. “Splat, splat, splat! She called me a clumsy bear – but she couldn’t help laughing.” The merriment died from his face. “I still can’t believe she’s gone. No explanation. No goodbyes. Just – gone!”

  Hilde caught her breath. Now – now was the moment. It had been so clear, so strong, that moment of joyful certainty. She knew she was meant to tell Bjørn 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? He’ll be angry with me for raising Bjørn’s hopes.

  She hesitated too long. Gudrun wiped her hands. “Give Ran to me, Bjørn, while you eat your eggs, and then you can have her back. The little thing needs you. You’ve been a stranger for too long. Surely by now you’ve given up looking for her poor mother?”

  Bjørn took a mouthful of the hot, buttery eggs. “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. 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. Not many fishermen live to be old, anyway.”

  Gudrun threw down the skillet with a crash.

  “Shame on you for talking like that! You may well drown, if you keep taking your little boat out alone in all weathers, but as for black seals and draug boats, fancy believing a word of anything dreamed up by old Thorkell and Harald Bowlegs!”

  “I’ve seen the seal myself,” said Bjørn gently.

  “Anybody can see a seal!” Gudrun cried. She swung round. “Ralf, the boy needs help. Tell him! I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

  Ralf blinked. “Tell him what?”

  Gudrun put her hands on her hips. “Tell him you’ll go with him to Hammerhaven to fetch his brother, to fetch Arne. What are you waiting for?”

  Ralf ’s face cracked into a huge grin. “Gudrun, you’re amazing!” He sprang up like a dog set loose. “She’s right, Bjørn. What do you say? If you and I go in the boat, we can reach Hammerhaven tonight. If Arne’s at home, we’ll bring him back. If he’s out fishing, we’ll wait for him. Two, three days, that’s all it will take.”

  Bjørn began to object. “I can’t bring Arne into this.”

  Gudrun rolled her eyes. “It’s very simple, Bjørn. If Arne was in trouble, wouldn’t you want to help him?”

  “She’s right again,” said Ralf. “He’s your brother.”

  Very slowly, Bjørn nodded. “I should like to see him,” he admitted.