black cockerel woke him with a falsetto shriek of “cock-a-doodle-doo!” right beside his ear. Peer sat up with a gasp. The cockerel gave him a malicious glance and stalked away, tail feathers quivering.
“I’ll tell the Nis to pull them out,” Peer threatened, pushing the barn door open. As the morning sunlight streamed in, he remembered everything he had learned.
If the trolls want a girl as well as a boy, I’m safe, he thought. Uncle Baldur and Uncle Grim don’t have a niece, or any female relations. Did they even know any girls?
His eyes suddenly widened in horror.
Hilde was a girl!
They couldn’t. They wouldn’t.
Could they?
No! thought Peer. But – all the same – I’ve got to warn her!
Chapter 8
A Day Out
BUT PEER DID not see Hilde again for a long time. Weeks passed. White windflowers sprang up in the birchwoods on the flanks of Troll Fell; the ploughed field above the mill sprouted with green barley, and still Hilde did not come riding down to the village, and Peer was kept far too busy to go walking up the valley to find her. He woke each morning sore and tired, and fell asleep at the end of each long day half dead with exhaustion.
One fine afternoon Hilde decided to take her little brother and sister down to the sea.
It was washday. Gudrun and Hilde had carried nearly every piece of clothing in the house to a place where a waterfall tumbled into a little pool. They had kilted up their skirts and trodden the clothes down till their legs were blue and aching. Bringing the dripping load back to the farm they found that Eirik, sitting outside the door in the sunshine, had nodded off. Unwatched, Sigurd and Sigrid had taken it into their heads to try riding the cow. They had untied her picket rope, scrambled on her bony back and allowed her to amble down the steep little valley where the wild garlic grew. She had gorged herself on the pungent leaves and flowers.
“The milk will taste of garlic for a week!” Gudrun scolded.
“We can make cheese,” suggested Hilde. “Ma, you need a rest. Let me get the children out of your way. We’ll take the pony and go down to the fjord, and you can sit in the sun and spin.”
“That would be lovely,” Gudrun agreed thankfully.
As Hilde led the pony downhill through the wood, the white trunks of the birch trees shone as if newly scoured and the brook flashed in the sunlight. Sigrid sang one song, Hilde another. Sigurd pounded the pony with his heels to make it trot. On leaving the woods the path slanted across the fields to the wooden bridge. The mill was working, clattering busily, and Hilde looked eagerly for Peer.
As it happened, Peer saw her first. He was cleaning the pigsty, a lean-to shed at the back of the mill on the other side of the millpond. Stripped to the waist, his ragged trousers rolled up, Peer shovelled out mud and smelly straw and cabbage stalks, while Bristles the boar basked against the wall, his hairy sides heaving. Resting for a moment to wipe sweat from his eyes, Peer saw Hilde and the children coming out of the woods. He almost ducked out of sight. Why did Hilde always have to see him this way, covered in dirt? But there were things he needed to tell her. He climbed out of the sty and waved.
Hilde waved back. “Hello! We’re going to the sea. Want to come?”
To the sea! Suddenly Peer didn’t care what his uncles did or said. A sunny afternoon with Hilde would be worth almost anything that could happen afterwards. He threw down his shovel. “I’ll catch you up,” he called, and Loki, who had been lying in gloomy boredom with his nose between his paws, jumped up wagging his tail.
Peer ran around the back of the barn, skirting a bank of green stinging nettles, and crept through the bushes till he was out of sight of the mill. He emerged on the path breathless, and fell into step with Hilde.
“Good for you!” she greeted him. “I hope you won’t get into trouble.”
“Oh, I will,” said Peer grimly. His face hardened. “I just don’t care any more.”
Hilde glanced at him. He was burned brown from working in the sun with his shirt off. He was covered with mud, and his trousers were nothing but rags. He looked thinner, taller and older. And Loki’s coat was rough, and his ribs showed.
“Oh!” she said, shocked.
Peer scowled, as though daring her to comment. “Loki doesn’t get enough to eat,” he said curtly. “Grendel gets it all.”
Hilde took the hint and changed the subject. “Meet the mischief-makers,” she said cheerfully. “My little brother Sigurd and my little sister Sigrid. Say hello to him, brats!”
“Hello,” said Peer, smiling. The two little children looked very alike, with pale fair hair and blue eyes. “Are you twins, by any chance?”
They nodded. “But I came first,” boasted Sigrid. “So Sigurd has to do what I say!”
“I do not!” Sigurd pulled her hair. They fell off the pony and wrestled in the road. Hilde and Peer dragged them apart. “Behave!” Hilde threatened. “Or Peer won’t come with us.”
“No, I’m coming all right,” said Peer. “I want to swim.”
Trollsvik was tiny compared to Hammerhaven, just seven or eight houses with streams of white smoke rising from their grassy roofs. A gang of dogs rushed up to sniff at Loki who instantly made five new friends. A woman came out from her door and threw a pail of water over her vegetable patch. Seeing Hilde she called out, asking how her mother was and whether they’d heard from Ralf. Peer stood shyly apart while they talked, but Hilde dragged his arm.
“This is Kersten, Bjørn the fisherman’s wife. This is Peer Ulfsson, Kersten, who has come to live at the mill.” Kersten smiled; she was very pretty, with long dark hair and green eyes, but Peer was embarrassed because he was so dirty, and glad when the conversation ended and she went back inside. Hilde tethered the pony, and together they crossed some low grassy dunes to the shore.
The wide fjord sparkled. Baby waves lifted themselves an inch or two and turned over with a clear splash on a narrow beach where every pebble seemed a different colour. A couple of faerings, narrow fishing boats, lay on the shingle. The twins squealed with delight and ran to pick up shells and seaweed. Peer breathed deep and gazed at the bright water and high mountains.
“I’m going in,” he said happily.
“It’ll be cold,” Hilde warned him.
“Who cares?” He ran into the water with a whoop. “You’re right! It’s freezing!”
Loki dashed up and down, barking at the waves in case they attacked his master. In a few moments Peer came wading out. “I’m clean,” he said through chattering teeth, “but I can’t stay in any longer. Let’s find a nice sunny boulder and sit down. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Wrapped in an old cloak which Hilde had brought to sit on, and munching bread and cheese which she had packed, Peer told Hilde about the flighty little Nis, and how he had promised to bring it some butter. He told about his meeting with Granny Greenteeth, and how she had
