Troll Fell (17 page)

“Help me!” he growled. Seeing Hilde shudder, Peer
gingerly bent down and hooked the tail out. It was thick
and bony, like a cow's, with a tuft of hair at the tip.

“Follow me,” the Gaffer commanded, hitching up his
cloak. The crow dived after him as he threw open the
door and stumped out, switching his tail. The ball of
light, which had been idly drifting to and fro against the
rocky ceiling, brightened rapidly and bounded ahead of
him as he led the way further down the passage.

Peer and Hilde followed, glancing about nervously. As
they walked, they began to hear noises ahead; bangs,
crashes and whoops. They turned a corner, the passage
ended in some steps, and they found themselves looking
into the splendid Hall under Troll Fell.

It was a huge cavern. The roof soared up into
darkness, patrolled by many floating lights, golden and
blue. Their own ball of light tumbled past them, rising,
and whirled aloft to join the others.

Opposite them a waterfall found its way in white
threads down between rocks. At the base of the waterfall
was a stone chair. The water divided around it and
flowed away in a dark channel under an archway at the
side of the Hall.

The Hall was filling with trolls and other creatures, all
rushing about. Some tumbled from dark chimneys in the
roof and dropped to the floor like bouncing balls. Others
scrambled out from underneath boulders. Gangs rushed
in with long tables and benches, dragging them here and
there, dropping them with a crash, trying to get them in
the best order. Over by the channel a group of dripping
water spirits, or nixies, scoured a pile of golden plates
with fine white sand, trying to get them as bright as
possible. Others with brooms swept the floor, raising
clouds of dust. (With a wistful pang, Peer thought of the
Nis.) And everyone was shouting at once:

“Fetch another high-seat for the King of the Dovre!”

“A special table for his son and daughter!”

“How many tubs of water for the merrows?”

“We need to have just as many for the nixies!”

“Couldn't they sit on wet stones…?”

As the Gaffer arrived, a sudden silence fell, and every
face turned towards him. And such faces! Hilde, searching
the crowd eagerly for a sign of Sigurd or Sigrid, found her
eyes confused by the jumble. Trolls with pig's snouts, trolls
with owl's eyes, trolls with bird's beaks. There did not seem
to be a human face among them, unless you counted the
nixies, whose faces, though beautiful, were narrow and sly
with curious slanting eyes.

Then she saw them. Not the children, but the tall
burly, black-haired figures of the Grimsson twins. They
were slouching side by side on some rocks at the bottom
of the waterfall, looking as surly and bad-tempered as
ever. Beside her, Peer winced.

“Don't worry, Peer,” she whispered helplessly.

“I'm not worrying!” Peer growled.

“Can you see the children?”

Before Peer could reply, the Gaffer set off down the
shallow steps and they had to follow him. It seemed a
long way over the uneven stone floor to the throne at
the other side. The trolls fell back for them, hissing and
murmuring.

Cold with fright, Peer threw his head back and stared
at his two uncles. They hadn't yet seen him, and he
wasn't looking forward to the moment when they did.
Baldur glanced casually across. He jogged his brother's
elbow and got to his feet – and then he spotted Peer. His
jaw dropped. So did Grim's. Their faces registered blank
astonishment changing to pop-eyed fury. Scared though
he was, Peer had to giggle.

The Gaffer walked straight past the Grimsson
brothers, ignoring them completely, and climbed on to
his throne. He swept his tail out of the way and settled
himself comfortably. But as Hilde and Peer drew level,
the two men came out of their trance. With a fierce
exclamation, Baldur shot out a thick arm. He grabbed
Peer by the back of the neck and shook him like a
puppet.

“Let him go!” Hilde shrieked, trying to pull him free.
Grim kicked her feet from under her and she fell heavily.
As if the violence was a signal, the trolls rushed from
behind and flung themselves on her, burying her under
a pile of arms, legs and whisking tails. She rolled on the
ground, hitting out blindly. Something bit her arm; she
scraped her knuckles on a scaly hide; claws scrabbled and
scratched. Screams, snarls, shouts and howls filled the
hall.
It's the end!
thought Hilde desperately, and wished it
weren't going to be quite so painful. Then:

“STOP THIS AT ONCE!” roared the Old Man of
Troll Fell, stamping in fury. He flung the crow from his
shoulder and it dived over the struggling crowd, stabbing
here and there with a beak like blue steel.

Baldur and Grim dropped Peer, cursing, beating the
crow away from their eyes. The pile of trolls on top of
Hilde rolled off and crept away, ducking and cringing. The
crow circled and returned to the Gaffer's shoulder. It lifted
its huge black wings and folded them, nibbling the
feathers into place. “Aaark!” it cried in harsh triumph.
Hilde sat up, her arms and face scratched and bleeding,
and threw the hair out of her eyes.

“Cool down!” ordered the Gaffer, as silence fell.

There was a hiss of rage from the assembled trolls.
“Bite them! Tear them to pieces!”

“I said QUIET!” shouted the Gaffer. He folded his
arms and glared at the crowds. The crow rocked on his
shoulder. “Get on with your work,” he bellowed.
“
Huuuu!
If we're not ready by midnight for the King of
the Dovre, there won't
be
any wedding! And if that
happens, I'll look at you all with my other eye and
shrivel you into earthworms!”

Everyone immediately began to bustle about very
busily.

Hilde looked up to see Baldur bristling.

“You vixen!” he spat. He turned blustering to the
Gaffer. “Don't listen to her lies! We've done what you
asked. We got you those children – just what you wanted!”

“S'right!” said Grim, punching a heavy fist into the
palm of his other hand.

“Keep your promise! Give us our gold – as much as
we can carry!”

“I'll
do
as I
please
,” growled the Gaffer, and the two
brothers fell unwillingly silent, clenching their fists.

There was a discordant blast of horns over in a corner
of the hall, and the little troll came hurrying in. It bowed
several times, out of breath. “The princess!” it gasped.
“And the prince!” it added.

Out into the Hall came the Gaffer's eldest daughter.
She was in a bad temper, for the occasion was so great.
She had never been married before! She was pretty, for a
troll: her mother had been a nixie. Her eyes were large,
slanted like birch leaves, and she only had one tail.

“The spiders haven't finished my wedding dress!” she
complained bitterly. “And my hair is a bird's nest. And
look at all the dust! You should have raised the hill
already and aired the place. Then North Wind could
have swept in here. Whatever will they think of us? We
shall never be ready in time!”

“Now, now, my dear,” said the Gaffer fondly.

The troll princess stamped her foot. “I don't want the
Dovreking to think I'm a bad housewife!”

“He won't think that as long as there's enough beer,”
chuckled the Gaffer. “Besides, my dear, look what I have
for you! The Bride Cup you so foolishly lost, long ago!”

The troll princess looked at it carelessly. “That thing?
So you've got it back? So now you'll stop fussing. You're
so hidebound, Father.”

“It's an heirloom, my dear!”

Up came the troll prince, wearing a sulky expression
on his piggish face. He took after his father, though he
had only two eyes.

“These children you've got for us are terrible!” he
burst out. “They won't fetch or carry or dance or sing.
They won't do anything but scream and cry!”

“I can't possibly give the boy to my husband,” agreed
the troll princess.

“I can't possibly give the girl to my bride!”

They stamped their feet together and glared at their
father, who in turn scowled at the Grimsson brothers.

“‘
Just what I wanted
,' eh?” he growled threateningly.
The eyelid in the middle of his forehead flickered, a red
blink. The two huge men shifted their feet uneasily.

“How can they
sing
when they're unhappy? Where
are they?” Hilde cried in deep distress, imagining the
two little children locked up in some dark cave. But
Peer pulled her arm and pointed. There, creeping
nervously into the Hall, holding hands tightly, were
Sigurd and Sigrid. Their dirty tear-streaked faces
brightened as they saw Hilde and Peer, and they raced
across the floor to Hilde as she rushed to meet them.
She grabbed one in each arm, and hugged them hard
against her.

“This'll teach you to go running off!” she choked. “I
told
you to stay near Grandpa!”

Sigrid sobbed. Peer tousled her hair, feeling a
brotherly lump in his throat. “Don't, Hilde!” he
whispered. “It's not their fault.”

“I know,” sniffed Hilde. “Don't cry, Siggy! It's all right
now. We'll take you home.”

“Will you, though?” asked the Gaffer drily.

Hilde turned and stared at him. “But I brought you
the cup!” she exclaimed.

“And your son and your daughter don't want the
children!” added Peer.

“It's what
I
want that counts!” The Gaffer grinned
ferociously. “And it boils down to this!
I
want two of you
for the Dovreking's son and daughter. Two humans, right?
That's the bargain. So two of you may go – but two of you
must stay!”

There was an awful silence. Hilde's mouth fell open.

“I'm feeling generous,” added the Gaffer genially, “so
I'll let you choose.”

“You don't mean this!” said Hilde disbelievingly.

“Oh, yes I do!”

“But—” Hilde began. She stopped, gasping. “How
can
we choose?”

“Take your time!” the Gaffer advised merrily. “Think
hard! Don't decide in a hurry!”

Sigurd and Sigrid tugged at their sister.

“Can't we go home?” Sigrid wept. Her mouth turned
down at the corners. “I want to go home!”

“So do I!” cried Sigurd. They buried their faces in
Hilde's clothes. She looked down at them hopelessly, and
bit her lip.

“Then I – I suppose I had better stay here,” she
whispered.

The Gaffer shifted his fat body and looked at Peer.

Peer felt sick. He looked around desperately. He
opened his mouth, and closed it again, unable to say the
words that would condemn him to a life of slavery under
Troll Fell. Why, oh why had he ever followed his uncles
when he could have left them and gone safely to
Hammerhaven, with Loki?

He looked at Hilde, and Hilde looked away. Peer
thought it was scorn. He gritted his teeth furiously. Why
did she have to be so brave – showing him up?
It's easy
for her – the twins are her family!

Easy! He stole another glance at Hilde. Her head was
bowed, her shoulders rigid, her fists clenched.
I'm lying
,
Peer thought, ashamed.
How could it be easy?

He stared dizzily round the Hall, his eyes passing over
the scurrying trolls, the white strands of the waterfall, the
moving lights in the dark roof. It was horribly strange
and meaningless. Even though the cave was so large, his
throat tightened. Under how much earth and rock was
he buried?
I've got to get out!
he thought, choking.
Out,
where the sun shines and the wind blows!
Again he looked at
Hilde, who still would not look at him. And at last his
eyes came to rest on his uncles; the stupid, brutal,
calculating faces of Baldur and Grim.

A cold thought penetrated. What sort of life would it
be, to go back to the mill with those two? Even if he
escaped again, how could he live, knowing that he had
abandoned Hilde?

I'd be as bad as they are!
he thought in slow horror.

It was the same choice he had made on the
mountain. But this time it was much harder. He closed
his eyes, pressing his fingers over his eyelids.
I can't keep
running away, Father
, he said silently into the darkness.
It
doesn't work. It's time to stand up to them
.

He opened his eyes, his heart thumping so hard, it
nearly burst his chest.

“I'll stay here too,” he said in a loud voice, surprising
even himself.

Hilde shot him a look of amazed and shining
gratitude. Peer avoided her eye. If she thanked him, he
might break down. He turned brusquely on the Gaffer.
“I'll stay,” he repeated, bleakly but firmly. “So look –
don't give my uncles any treasure! They haven't earned
it. You're not keeping Sigurd and Sigrid, and
we
came of
our own free will!”

“Why, you little—!” screeched Uncle Baldur. “Don't
listen to him, Your Majesty! Besides, that boy's my own
nephew. You'll have to pay for him!”

The Gaffer howled with laughter, opening his mouth
so wide he showed every jagged tooth. “Good boy!
Excellent!” he chuckled. Baldur and Grim looked at
each other, their brows blackening.

“Our treasure – our reward!” began Baldur.

“Nothing!” snapped the Gaffer. His mouth shut like a
trap. The two brothers looked completely confounded.
Peer was savagely delighted.

“When can the children go home?” Hilde demanded.

“Not till after the wedding,” said the Gaffer. “We're
too busy till then.”