Heroes of the Valley

  At which Aud turned aside up an ill-made track to a dilapidated barn, whose doors hung open to the elements. The horse displayed a marked reluctance to enter, but was coerced inside; the black interior was rank and sour, featuring a complex variety of farmyard odours.

  Halli spoke carefully. 'Where is this?'

  'This is the old hay barn.'

  'Thank you, but I shall do the tour tomorrow. Oughtn't we to step on to the hall for supper?'

  'This shall be your hall tonight,' Aud said. 'Do you think my father will welcome a ragged beggar like you with open arms?'

  Halli made an affronted noise. 'There's such a thing as charity.'

  'Also such things as suspicion and disgust. The last vagrant who came was rolled in the millwheel, and he would have run in shock from you. Even if my father restrained himself, he would be sure to ask some searching questions. About that silver belt beneath your fleece, for one.'

  'What silver belt?'

  Aud shook her head. 'Oh dear. If you wish me to ride back to Hakon's House, I can. I know the way.'

  'Yes, yes, the silver belt. We can talk about that tomorrow.'

  'All right. It would be best for now if your feet do not touch the ground. We should leave no scent here just in case. Somewhere close is a hatch to the hayloft. Raise your hands and feel the ceiling. Since you are so pitifully short, you may need to stand on the saddle.'

  She urged the horse forward slowly, slowly, down the centre of the barn. With grim resignation and extreme care, Halli stood on the saddle, holding onto Aud's shoulder with one hand. He reached out teeteringly left and right until a sudden sharp blow to his forehead made lights flare against his eyes. With a cry of woe he toppled to the side.

  'Yes, it's beside a low beam,' Aud said, grasping him by his arm. 'Found it?'

  Halli righted himself with difficulty. His voice was faint. 'I think so.'

  'Good. Up you get then. I'll come back tomorrow, when I can.'

  'With food?'

  'If I can. Well, get on. I'm famished and late for dinner. If I don't hurry I'll miss the meats and wine.'

  Halli made no audible response. He reached up, located an unseen aperture, took hold of its lip. Muscles flaring, body shaking, he pulled himself up and through the hole, rolling over at last to lie spread-eagled on his back. Beneath him, hooves clinked on stone and away along the track. Even before they left the barn, Halli was asleep.

  15

  SVEIN'S RAIDS ON THE upland farms lasted a couple of months. A few stubborn farmers resisted to begin with, but when they were killed and their buildings burned, the rest swore undying loyalty to the House. Soon Svein controlled all the land south of the river.

  'Good,' Svein said. 'We've got a bit of order in these parts at last.'

  During the campaign, Svein trained his men in many of the arts of battle, practising with sword and spear, staff and bow, until they were proficient with them all. Then he turned his attention to the Trows. Traps were set in the fields and lanes between the cottages, so that the monsters were set aflame with tar arrows, crushed with boulders and harried by the sudden screaming ambush of his camouflaged men.

  'This is more like it,' said Svein.

  A sharp kick on the backside woke Halli from the soundest of slumbers. His eyes snapped open and gazed stupidly upwards at a lattice of beams and rafters, at spiders' webs and hanging flecks of straw. And a girl's face looking at him.

  'Rise and shine,' it said. 'Did you know you're dribbling?'

  It ducked away from his field of vision. There followed scuffles, the rasp of cloth and random thuds and clanks. Halli didn't move at first. Consciousness seeped back. He saw shards of daylight glinting between the roof beams. The air was warm and hazy, filled with drifting motes of dust. Doves called beyond the thatch.

  'You're still dribbling,' the voice said. 'Try closing your mouth. It helps.'

  In a sudden flurry of activity Halli coughed, wiped his chin and struggled to rise – a difficult task, as every inch of his body ached or stung and every muscle pained him. Several joints could barely move at all. When he was more or less upright, he looked across to see Aud Ulfar's-daughter sitting imperturbably on a ceiling beam, watching his progress. She wore a slightly rumpled blue kirtle. It was stained dark at the skirt's base where she had walked through grass. Her fair hair was drawn back behind her head in a single cursory braid.

  'Morning, fugitive,' she said, and grinned.

  Halli looked at her. His face felt bruised and swollen. He rubbed at it with the palms of his hands. 'Where's the sun?' he asked. His voice was thick and hesitant.

  'Scarcely above the sea. It's early yet, but I thought I'd check on you. Good job I did, or someone would have come by and heard your snores.'

  'I was snoring?'

  'Like a hog on heat – whole barn shaking, birds wheeling about, dust coming from the rafters and everything. Surprised it didn't collapse on you.' She looked him sympathetically up and down. 'How are you feeling, anyway?'

  'Well, not so—'

  'Because you look bloody dreadful. I didn't quite realize last night because the light was going, but your face is like death, Halli. Your clothes are rags. And I'm not going to ask what those stains are on your leggings. To think I let you press up against my riding cloak last night; I'm going to have to burn it. Your poor feet, too – all scratched and bloodied. I've never seen a Founder's son look as bad as you, Halli. I bet there's never been anything quite like this in the history of the valley. There'll be corpses under cairns in better nick than you right now.'

  She took a breath. Halli said: 'Well, aside from that I'm in perfect shape, thanks for asking.'

  'I suppose you want something to eat.'

  Halli's hunger was a knife scratching at the inside of his belly – he had not eaten since entering Hakon's House, a day and a half before. 'Please, if you've got some.'

  She gestured carelessly at a large cloth bag lying on the hay beside her. 'There's food here. Bread, beer, pies, a little meat. I raided the kitchens at the end of the meal last night. The skin bottle has willow tea to help ease any pain. Have what you want.'

  In moments Halli was across the intervening space and bending over the bag.

  Aud Ulfar's-daughter uttered a squeal. 'Arne's ghost!'

  Halli looked up with a mouthful of pie. 'Sorry. I'm just so hungry.'

  'It's not that. I hadn't realized quite how ragged your tunic was.'

  'Oh.'

  Adjusting his attire hurriedly, Halli went on eating. The willow tea was, as expected, horribly bitter. The beer and pies had a better taste and brought on the full fury of his thirst and hunger.

  Aud had retreated to a safe distance. 'It's like feeding the pigs. Listen, I'm going. I want to hunt out some old clothes of Father's. They won't fit you but it'll be amusing to watch you try them. I'll be back in a bit. Stay here.'

  Halli looked up, pastry flaking at his mouth. 'Aud, I – I haven't thanked you yet for what you've done. It's really . . . Well, that is, I don't know how to—'

  She had reached the loft hatch, where the top of a ladder protruded, and swung down onto it gracefully, long braid swinging. 'Oh, please. It's not often I have an outlaw in my barn. It's an honour. Also, last night you grovelled in the dirt and vowed to be in my debt for ever – remember? I can't let an opportunity like that slip, can I? I have to keep you alive. Speaking of which, don't go out. I heard horses coming into the yard just as I went out the back. It's probably nothing, but I'd better find out what's going on. Then I'm coming back – to hear it all from you. I want the full story – nothing left out. Better get your strength up.'

  She winked at him and waved. Light from the open barn below lit up her face as she dropped from view. Halli returned to the bag.

  Afterwards, his belly aching, he waited for Aud's return. In the far corner of the loft there was a place where the thatch had worn away, allowing a thin oval of sunlight to spill onto the hay. Halli went to look out of the hole – he saw vegetab
le fields, trim lines of autumn crops, low walls, the margins of the Arnesson forest. Craning his neck through, he could just see some of the outbuildings of the House away to his left – long, low, red-roofed – distant cottages and solitary trees. The scene was peaceful, ordinary, pleasant: he felt utterly detached from it. Abruptly, he drew his head inside.

  Halli went to sit on the opposite side of the hayloft, where the shadows were brown and dim. More than once he heard the people of Arne's House going about their unknown business. He heard women passing, laughing together softly; the noise made him think suddenly of his mother. He heard men's voices at a distance, too far for clarity. Once hooves went past the barn at speed.

  He let the sounds flow in and out of him; he did not stir, but sat staring into space. Thanks to the willow tea, the pain of his body was lessening, but the numbness he felt was more than that. Likewise, with his stomach full he became aware of an utter emptiness inside – no longer a lack of food, but the absence of any kind of passion. Anger, hatred, grief and fear – the emotions that had swirled unceasingly within him, that had driven him ever onwards through these recent weeks, that had so filled and shaped his mind – had all utterly drained away, leaving only their shape, their mould, behind them.

  For an entire day he had not had space to consider their loss, but he saw now that they were gone even before he fled from Olaf 's room. The revelation that he could not kill, that his entire journey was based on an utterly false premise, had turned his emotions inside out. His lack of self-knowledge shocked him, and all the ideals he had held so close for so long were knocked spinning into the air. He had been physically unable to avenge his kinsman, unable to do the necessary thing that the heroes' creed demanded. True, Olaf had afterwards met his death, more or less accidentally – Halli had no doubt that the fiery tapestry had done its work – but what of that? Halli, reflecting on it, felt not even the dullest satisfaction.

  Other certainties had been damaged in that room, foremost among them his worship of his uncle. Loath as Halli was to believe the story Olaf told, he could not deny that it chimed with things he had heard at home. Brodir had been reckless in his youth and had forfeited much land – so much he had heard from his family's own lips. Had he been a killer also? Halli didn't know. But that he had disgraced Svein's House long ago – and awoken the wrath of the men of Hakon – seemed all too clear.

  Now Halli, by his actions, had followed in Brodir and Olaf 's footsteps too. Another man was dead, a House aflame

  . . . And all for what? Sitting alone in the dimness of the loft, Halli had no answer.

  What could he do now? Where could he go? The only good thing about the matter was that his pursuers did not know him. He had stayed too far ahead throughout the chase. But if he were caught, if they found him in his current state . . . He blew out his cheeks. Well, Aud had saved him. It was thanks to her that he was still alive.

  He thought of her face at the ladder, lit by excitement and the morning sun. She had no idea. No idea what he had done. And she shouldn't know either – he straightened abruptly, setting his chin resolutely upwards – she shouldn't be drawn in. When she got back, if she gave him clothes, he would thank her and depart. He wouldn't endanger her any further. No story, nothing.

  A fleeting sensation of noble melancholy was still washing through him when he heard a sudden scraping on the ladder below and saw Aud's fair head and ragged pigtail rise into view. She hopped off the ladder and crouched down by the hole, breathing hard, her face purple with exertion. Her shoulders were high and tense, her face impassive, but her eyes were bright and shining. She looked at Halli. She looked at him in a way that she hadn't looked at him before. It was more of a gaze.

  After a time Halli said, 'So, er, no luck with the clothes?'

  She shook her head minutely, still gazing at him.

  Halli cleared his throat. 'Look, you know how grateful I am. Clothes aside, I was wondering – do you think you could find me a horse? Well, it would need to be more of a pony actually. A smallish one. Not overly round in the belly. I have stirrup issues. The thing is, I think I should leave here as soon as I can, so as not to . . . not to get you into trouble.'

  'You want to leave?'

  'It would be best.'

  Aud gave a little laugh. She moved away from the hatch to a place where a crack of sunlight warmed the hay, and sat cross-legged, smoothing her kirtle over her knees. Then she said: 'I'm not sure that's a good idea right now.'

  'No?'

  'No. You remember I heard hooves arriving at the House a while ago?'

  Halli sighed. 'Someone from Hakon's?'

  'Not someone. Thirty men, all on horseback, all with knives and ropes and hunting spears and I don't know what else. Hord Hakonsson himself leads them; when I got back, he was in conference with my father, bearing news.' Aud regarded Halli steadily. 'It is some news. Perhaps you'd like to hear it. It seems that two nights ago an unknown intruder broke into Hakon's hall, killed Hord's brother Olaf, and set the place alight before diving into the moat and fleeing. They tracked him yesterday to the eastern edges of our forest where, if the trail marks are to be believed, he was picked up by a horseman and spirited away. The tracks were lost, but Hord intends to search far and wide until the killer and his accomplice are found.'

  Halli spoke haltingly, 'Aud, look – I didn't intend you to get into—'

  'Here's another thing,' Aud went on. 'The moment I arrived I was called in to speak with Hord. My father knew I'd been riding in the forest last night, you see. They questioned me closely about where I'd been and what I'd seen. They were very persistent. It was hard for a girl. In the end I told them—' She hesitated. watching Halli's face, which shone rather taut and pale in the dimness of the loft. 'I told them I'd seen no one. Of course I didn't tell them anything! Why should I? Like I give a dung-straw for the Hakonssons! It's bad enough that my stupid, spineless father should agree to Hord's every demand – he's already given them permission to conduct a thorough search of Arnesson lands. Our lands, like it belonged to them! They'll be rummaging in every barn and byre from here to the valley road for days.' She scuffed a toe irritably in the straw. 'So in short I'd stay put, if I were you.'

  Halli wiped a bead of sweat from his temple. 'You know, this loft is cosy,' he said. 'Maybe I will stay here a while.' A thought struck him. 'Wait, won't they check here too?'

  'Oh, they won't search the buildings of our House. That would be too dishonourable even for Father.' She scowled to herself, then folded her arms. 'There's no suggestion we're mixed up in the affair, just that the criminal has fled onto our lands. Speaking of which, Halli Sveinsson, isn't it time you told me all?'

  He looked away from her. 'No. It's best if I don't drag you in any deeper. I've endangered you enough as it is. Besides, the story is not particularly interesting and I'm not sure I care to tell it. Not that I'm ungrateful for your help, you understand.'

  'Of course, of course.' Aud tapped her fingers together briskly and rose to leave. 'I'm going now. I feel an urge to sing up and down the House. It shall be a ballad of my own devising, entitled The Boy You Want Is in the Hay Barn. Here's a sample couplet: "Come, men, bring your axes, Halli's hiding here/See, in that straw, his bottom shaking; jab it with a spear." What do you think?'

  Halli stared at her. 'You wouldn't do that.'

  'Wouldn't I? Better get talking.'

  It was not pride that made Halli reluctant to speak of his experiences, nor fear of the consequences of telling Aud, for he trusted her completely. Rather, it was the hollowness inside him. Already that day, as he had sat alone in the silence of the loft, a deadening emptiness had seemed about to swallow him. Now he dreaded what talking about it all might do. But there was no help for it.

  'All right,' he said. 'Though I don't know where to begin.'

  'How about your uncle's death?' Aud said sweetly. 'I was there, remember? Would that have anything to do with this?'

  'It might.'

  Slowly at first, hesita
ntly, hauling the words up from deep within him, he told her everything. Of his family's indifference and his silent fury; of his taking of the hero's belt and his father's knife. Of Snorri's hut and Bjorn the trader and his tribulations in the lower valley. He did not embellish or exaggerate; he missed nothing out. As he went on, and the telling grew easier, he found himself talking frankly about each setback, culminating in his bleak revelation in Olaf 's room. Curiously, the more he spoke, the better he felt. As it had been in the orchard, long ago, so it was now – Aud seemed to draw the truth from him. The great weight that had borne down on him since Brodir's death shifted a little; fresh air stirred it and lifted it off his back. His head felt clearer than it had done for a long while.

  Aud didn't interrupt or comment once, until the tale was done.

  'So you didn't kill him then,' she said. 'Not purposefully, anyhow.'

  'No. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.' He shook his head miserably. 'Right at the beginning that mad old man, Snorri, told me that I'd be no better than Olaf Hakonsson myself if I did what I set out to do. And I laughed at him. But then, when I had my uncle's killer there before me, I felt, I felt . . .' He made a helpless gesture. 'Aud, I don't know what my weakness was, but I just felt physically . . . I couldn't bring myself to use the knife.'

  'Oh, but it wasn't weakness,' Aud Ulfar's-daughter began. 'Halli, listen—'

  'It was like everything I believed just turned upside-down. And that wasn't the only time it happened. That man in the gorge. He tried to murder me. I thought he was an outlaw, like the ones in the tales. But no! He was a respected man of Eirik's House! And I killed him.'

  Aud made a scornful noise through her nose. 'Oh, come on. He attacked you and he stepped off the edge. Didn't he? You didn't push him. And the same applies to Olaf too. You didn't strike him down. It was his own fault he died, chasing you.'