back out into the darkness.
The lantern shone on to snow whirling on the ground, picked up and flung about by the wind. It was hard to walk in a straight line.
“Sigurd?” she shouted. “Sigrid? Where are you? Come in at once, supper’s ready!
“Sigurd! Come here now!
“Children! I’ll smack you if you don’t come!”
A night bird shrieked. What bird would be out in such a night? Huuu – hutututu! She shivered. That was no bird; the trolls were out. The wind swept snow into her eyes. She went round to the sheepfold, swinging the lantern. The sheep lay huddled in the shelter of the fence, drifted snow on their backs.
“Sigurd? Sigrid?”
She held the lantern close to the ground, searching for tracks. Her own were obvious, and there were a lot of larger half-filled prints which must belong to Bjørn and Arne. The small light tracks of the little children had disappeared as completely as they had themselves.
“Oh where are you?” she cried – and stealthy movements caught her eye. She whirled. Trolls were creeping up to the very edge of her lantern’s pool of light, and their eyes reflected flashes of green and red. Hilde stamped her foot and shouted. They scattered, but a moment later a hail of snowballs flew at her, some loaded with stones. She stumbled back to the house.
Gudrun pulled the door open. “Have you found them?”
“No! Ma, the trolls are out there. They’ve been snowballing me. Ma, can the trolls have stolen them?” She clutched her mother’s arm, and they stared at each other, white-faced.
“We must tell Eirik,” said Gudrun. She ran to shake his shoulder. “Eirik, wake up! Wake up! Sigurd and Sigrid are missing!”
Eirik opened his eyes with a start and listened, bewildered, while Hilde and Gudrun gabbled.
“They’re missing!”
“It was after Bjørn and Arne left!”
“No, it was before!”
“They went out with you the first time.”
“I know, but —”
“Did they ever come back in?”
“I don’t remember. Did they, Grandfather?”
Eirik slapped his knee in irritation. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
Hilde repeated the story in desperation. “They’re lost! In the snow! And the trolls are out! And I made them go! Oh, if only they come back, I’ll never be mean to them again!” She began to cry.
“Have you looked for them?” Eirik asked. Gudrun’s control broke.
“Of course she’s looked for them! Why can’t you listen? Oh what shall we do? My poor little twins, lured away to die in the snow! I told Ralf there’d be trouble with the trolls, I told him, but would he listen? Oh, what shall we do?” She threw her apron over her head and sat down crying hysterically.
Eirik struggled upright in his chair. “Hush, Gudrun, hush,” he began, but as she paid no attention he cleared his throat and thundered, “Woman!”
It worked. Gudrun raised a startled face.
“Will you be quiet?” Eirik demanded. He got to his feet in great excitement. “It’s not the trolls. It’s not the trolls, I say. It’s the Grimssons who’ve stolen our children away!”
“The Grimssons?” Gudrun asked in wonderment.
“Of course it is!” Eirik raised his stick and whacked it down. “What did you tell us about them, Hilde? Didn’t they want a pair of children? And isn’t tonight midwinter’s eve?”
“They’ve taken Sigrid?” screamed Hilde. “They’ve taken Sigurd and Sigrid?”
Alf sprang up, barking. “I’ll kill them!” Hilde yelled.
Eirik was still explaining. “…crept up under cover of darkness – probably followed Arne and Bjørn – lay in wait –”
“All that fuss when you fell over,” gasped Hilde. “Perhaps they grabbed them then. There did seem a lot of big footprints, but I never thought! Oh, I can’t bear it! They’ll be so frightened!” She turned. “Mother, where are you going?”
Gudrun, white-lipped, was wrapping herself up. “To look for them, of course. You stay here and look after Grandpa.”
“By Odin,” shouted Eirik furiously, “you take me for a dotard, you do. Hilde will stay here. Gudrun, you will come with me. We shall go to Arne Egilsson’s and raise the village. Ha!” He stamped his foot down into a boot and broke into an old battle chant.
Gudrun shrugged. Her pale face softened into a very faint smile.
“He’s exactly like his son,” she remarked proudly.
Chapter 13
The Nis to the Rescue
PEER CROUCHED ON the frozen privy floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. He was so cold that in spite of Uncle Baldur’s last words to him, he rather thought he might die before morning. That would spoil their plans, he thought bitterly.
The only comfort was that Loki had got away. Everything else was a disaster. He imagined Baldur and Grim kicking open the door of Hilde’s house and dragging her out – her mother and her old grandfather would be unable to stop them. With Hilde in their power they would return to the mill for him, Peer, and take the pair of them away up Troll Fell. The Grimssons would collect their golden reward, and he and Hilde would become slaves of the trolls.
As for Loki, he would probably die in the woods, lost and cold and starving. Peer groaned in anguish…
…and heard a slithering sound somewhere over in the corner. He went very still. New fear tingled through him. He had completely forgotten about the other inhabitants of this privy.
The sound came again, accompanied by a creaking noise. Peer could imagine somebody hoisting themselves through one of the holes in the wooden seat. He tried not to breathe.
A voice spoke suddenly. “’Oo’s there?” it squeaked.
Peer dared not answer. A second voice spoke up from the pit below, hollow and muffled. “What’s up?”
“There’s someone ’ere!” squeaked the first voice.
“Light coming up,” boomed the second voice. In utter amazement Peer saw the three holes in the long wooden seat light up, throwing three round patches of light on to the rough roof. An arm came up through the middle hole, carrying a bluish flame.
The creature in the corner reached out and took it; the flame transferred easily from the first hand to the second and seemed not to belong to any oil lamp or taper. It was just a flame, flickering away by itself.
