North Child (38 page)

Initially I did this in company with a troll overseer, who watched me closely to see if I showed any sign of wanting to run away. I kept an obedient, subservient look on my face, attentive only to the animals and showing no interest in my surroundings. I must have convinced him, for I was then sent out by myself to exercise two of the reindeer. I rode one, holding the other's lead. The troll overseer clearly had decided there was little risk in my trying to escape, a softskin's chances of survival in that frozen landscape being nil, and presumably the slank was eliminating any such thoughts.

The first two times on my own I did not attempt to locate the cave, in case I was being watched. But the third time I casually made my way in the direction of the cave. It had snowed during the time I had been at the palace, and I began to despair of ever finding it beneath the snowfall. But then my eye fell on a familiar-looking hump, and as I circled it, I recognized the contours of
the cave. I dismounted and, holding the reindeer leads with one hand, dug out the snow-covered opening with the other. Everything was just as I had left it. I had prepared a mental list of the items I wanted from my pack, and I quickly began digging them out.

It was freezing work, opening up my coat and placing those icy packets close to my skin. When I was done I fastened my coat and mounted one of the reindeer, pressing my body against the animal for warmth.

I was punished for being gone too long, for straying too far, with a boxing of the ears and no dinner. But no one noticed my bulging coat, and later I greedily ate a small packet of frozen smoked seal meat I had thawed using heat from the slank I was given. Despite my punishment, they wouldn't dare skip giving me that. I stowed all my things in the hole made large by the hot slank I poured away every day, and went to sleep that night with, for the first time in a long while, a full stomach.

One day while I worked, I heard the stable trolls say that the queen and Myk were to have a sleigh ride, but when they arrived I was hustled out of sight into one of the back stables. Apparently only a few softskins were allowed anywhere near the queen. But to think that the man who had been a white bear was only a short distance from me made my breath go short and my heart feel like it would slam out of my chest. If only I could have darted out, grabbed him by the hand, and fled from the frozen place. But I could not. I had to be patient.

The next day my job was changed again. At first I thought I was being punished for having strayed too far on the day I had sneaked to the cave. But I later realized the change was most likely due to some mending I had done on the harness for the reindeer, for I was moved to a position that involved mending and sewing, and my new troll overseers were well pleased to discover my ability in this area.

They started me on easy tasks, but it was not long before I found myself being set before a small loom. And when they saw what I could do on that loom, I was soon moved to a larger one. It was nearly as splendid as the one in the castle had been. I was presented with a fine array of materials – thread and yarn of the most delicate and richest texture, in colours that dazzled the eye. Apparently, perhaps because of all the white that surrounded them, the trolls had a fondness for bright colours, at least when it came to dressing up. And there were many orders for fine gowns and vestments. Because of the wedding feast.

Although I hated the creatures who had ruined the lives of their countless human slaves, it did not cross my mind to do anything but my best work for the trolls. I had no plan yet, but I felt that doing good work might somehow help me rescue the white bear.

It was not until I learned that the wedding feast was only a fortnight away that I began to make plans. And by then I had found Tuki.

Urda has become troublesome. She blames me for Tuki's odd behaviour of late. To me his actions seem harmless; nevertheless, it worries her. He has taken to shunning all company, preferring to be by himself, playing with his little toys. Or else he is to be found hanging about the softskin servants. I do not know why he does this, for they cannot talk to him, but apparently he is content merely to watch them. It is clear he was contaminated by associating with the softskin girl at the castle in the green lands. I may have to eliminate him. In the meantime I need to find a way to mollify Urda.

Though it is of little matter to me whether or not Urda is happy, she has many friends, and I prefer allies at this time rather than enemies. The wedding feast is very soon now, and there is still much to be done. Nothing must go wrong.

Tuki and I first encountered each other in a remote hallway in one of the outer buildings, not far from the weaving room. I was very lucky that there was no one nearby when we met, otherwise I would certainly have been exposed and all would have been lost.

When he saw me for the first time, Tuki gave a shrill, keening cry, and then a great toothy smile spread over his face. “Rose,” he said happily.

“Tuki,” I responded softly, and, looking around uneasily, placed a finger to my lips. He understood, mimicking me with a finger to his own lips, and we had a hurried, whispered exchange there in the hallway. My knowledge of the troll language was severely put to the test, but somehow, with a combination of pantomime and words, I was able to arrange a meeting with Tuki late the next evening in the weaving room. I was fairly confident that I would be alone then but impressed on Tuki that he must come into the room only if he saw I was the only one there.

I had become a favourite of sorts with the trolls who oversaw the weaving and sewing, a pet among the rest of the dumb animals. I was a hard worker, and though I still acted slack jawed and compliant, I was a little quicker to understand what was expected of me than the rest. Because of this, and because of the pressing need for wedding clothing, I had been given greater freedom than the other softskins. I was also working longer hours.

I had tried my hardest to impress upon Tuki that our meeting was a secret but was not sure I had succeeded. All the next day I was on tenterhooks, waiting for a troll to appear and drag me off to an icy dungeon.

But Tuki came alone to the weaving room at the arranged time. I was alone, working on an elaborate crimson-and-orange gown. There was joy in his eyes, and he reached over and touched the skin on my face, with the same pleased wonderment he had always shown. Then he took my hand and led me around the room, pointing to things and proclaiming the troll name for each. Realizing at once he wanted to play our old game, I quickly responded with the Njorden word. By then I already knew many of the troll words he “taught” me but did learn several that I had been puzzled by.

As we began to run out of objects to name, I pulled Tuki over to a stool and had him sit beside me.

“Is Tuki happy?” I asked. I thought he might remember the word, which I had taught him back at the castle. But he did not, so I pantomimed
happy
as best I could.

He suddenly began nodding emphatically and pointed to me. “Happy.”

I thought I understood him to say he was happy to be with me, although he could have meant he thought I was happy. And I remembered the frustration I had felt in trying to communicate with Tuki in the castle. Suddenly I thought of Malmo's story knife.

Again using pantomime and words, I told him that I must get back to work and that he should leave. But I asked him to come back the next night, and eagerly he agreed.

I worked quickly, to make up for the time I'd spent with Tuki. I fell asleep that night trying to figure out what I could use with the story knife instead of snow.

The next night I was ready for Tuki. I had managed to sneak a small sack of white sugar out of the kitchen, right under the nose of the terrible Simka, though she did manage to land a sharp kick to my shin as I ran out. Before Tuki arrived I spread the sugar evenly on the floor in a corner of the room.

When he came in I promptly led him to the sugar-covered floor and bade him sit beside me. I took out the story knife. He jumped up, thinking it a weapon, but I smiled reassuringly and urged him to sit down again. Warily he did, and I started sketching.

I began with a short, simple tale, the one Malmo had first told me about the girl adopted by seals. I think Tuki understood most of it, and when I had finished, he clapped his hands enthusiastically.

“More!” he said, in Njorden.

I told him another story, then another. Finally, I again had to tell him to go so I could catch up on my work. I said there would be more stories the next night. He went, even more reluctantly than he had the night before. I swept up the sugar and hid the bag of it under some fabric.

I did not get much sleep that night, for I had to work very late to get the allotted amount of work done.

The next night I told Tuki one brief tale to start out with. Then I turned to him and said that I had an important story to tell him. It was about me, I said, and why I had come to the ice palace. I don't know if he understood, but he nodded very solemnly and made ready to watch the figures I would draw.

I took a deep breath, and using the story knife, I told Tuki my story from the very beginning, when the white bear first came to our door, to the time I spent in the castle with the white bear-man lying beside me in the bed; from the candle wax dripping on his shirt to my long and perilous search for him. I did not go into detail about my journey, just showed myself crossing land, sea, and snow to reach the ice palace. I then drew the Troll Queen and the white bear-man hand in hand, as though being wed, and myself bending over, weeping.

I looked up at Tuki, who had been silent throughout the entire tale, his eyes round and intent, and saw that there were tears streaming down his ridged cheeks.

“The softskin man who was a white bear must not marry the Troll Queen,” I said, my voice hoarse from the telling of the tale. “Will you help me, Tuki?”

He stared at me, tears still wet on his skin.

“Will Tuki help Rose?” I said again, my own eyes bright.

Slowly he nodded.

Urda has asked a favour of me.

I am inclined to grant it. It is easy enough to do, and on the whole I believe the benefit outweighs any small risk.

She says that her son, Tuki, has come to admire my Myk and is eager to serve him.

I see no harm in allowing Tuki to be an aide or companion to Myk. Myk will be agreeable, I am sure, for he has a soft nature and will be patient with Tuki's childish ways. And Urda will be less inclined to complain about those long years of exile and the damage she feels it did to Tuki.

The only concern I feel is the possibility that Tuki was contaminated by his exposure to the girl in the castle, the one who raised Myk's hopes and then betrayed him. If Tuki became attached to her in some way, he might speak of her to Myk. I do not think there is anything now that would stir Myk's memory – the
rauha
slank is too powerful for that to happen – but such a slip-up may trigger a nightmare. (I still do not know why the slank does not eliminate those occasional nightmares. It is irksome.)