The Sea of Trolls

“That’s right. It’s my job. I’m the bard around here.” Jack was talking to calm his growing sense of panic. He hadn’t the slightest idea what to do. “As long as you’re going to stay, I might as well give you a name. How about… Lopsided.”

The bird delivered a series of loud croaks that made the Northmen clutch the amulets they wore around their necks. They could joke about getting chewed on by trolls, but a simple crow filled them with dismay. “You are lopsided. A fox bit off your toe, and you can’t walk straight.”

The crow snapped at Jack’s face.

“Oh, very well. I suppose you were courageous and fought back. I’ll call you Bold Heart.”

At this the crow did a flip-flop and landed on the railing with his feathers puffed out. He looked exceedingly pleased with his new name.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do,” said Jack.

He composed himself on the grain bag. What to do, what to do? he thought. Bold Heart hopped along the railing until he was in Jack’s view again. The bird lifted his wings to the sky and keened as though he saw a hawk. It was extraordinary how many sounds the bird could make.

“What does that mean?” Jack said. “I don’t have time to play. If you’re begging for food, you’ll have to wait until I’m finished.” Jack closed his eyes and prepared to cast his mind down to the life force. To his surprise, he found it easy. It was as though, once learned, the path became clearer.

He felt the fire deep below, but not only there. The life force radiated all around, in the sea and in the air. It moved together like a kind of music. It filled all with its joyful presence. Jack found himself in a dozen places at once, following a flock of geese forming a V in the upper sky, swimming with a school of herring that flowed in one direction until, startled, they all turned and flowed in another. It was wonderful! It was like being alive a hundred times over.

Finally he remembered his mission. Jack cast his mind down to the deeps again. Return to me, Jack thought. Break apart sea and sky. Call down your clouds and mists. Jack didn’t know where the words came from, only that they seemed right. He felt a finger of warmth lift from the fire far below. He felt it rise through the chill dark. It pushed aside the cold currents of the ocean and rose toward him. The herring scattered as it passed. It spread out like a giant net—here, there, everywhere, catching the fog. The water dimpled in a thousand places. From far away he heard the shouts of men.

“Jack! Jack!” cried Lucy, shaking him.

He opened his eyes. Water was streaming down so hard, he could hardly see. The Northmen were cursing as they tried to protect the perishable goods. Rain roared like a waterfall. Olaf ordered everyone to start bailing.

“Make it stop,” cried Lucy, her eyes wide with fright.

Jack held her tight. His mind refused to function. He could only stare at the devastation around them. Bold Heart flopped onto his lap and pushed his beak under Lucy’s arm. “He likes me,” said the little girl, momentarily distracted.

Jack thought it more likely that the crow was trying to stay dry, but he said, “Of course he does. He’s here to protect you.” Lucy gave Jack a wan smile. The water in the ship came almost to her knees. If it got much deeper, they’d sink.

“You! Bard! Do something!” Olaf bellowed. Jack closed his eyes and desperately tried to reach the life force. But the powers that ran through the earth were not to be approached by force. Jack tried and tried, but all he could do was hear the pounding rain and feel the water creep slowly up his legs. No matter how fast the warriors bailed, the rain came down faster. The ship was now so full, it barely crested the sea. Each water droplet sent it closer to destruction.

Then, just as it seemed they could take no more, the rain stopped. The Northmen continued to bail furiously. Soon they had the water level down to a dirty inch sloshing around their soaked boots. They were still surrounded by clouds, but a rift had appeared overhead. One small patch of blue showed they were not entirely cut off from the sun.

“You almost drowned us!” roared Olaf, kicking a sodden heap of clothes. “You’ve ruined half our booty!” He stormed around, making the ship sway.

“Temper tantrum,” whispered Lucy.

Her comment was so unexpected and accurate, Jack laughed out loud. He couldn’t help himself. He’d been afraid so long, he’d worn out his ability to feel terror. Olaf looked like a huge toddler, ranting and swearing with his wet beard hanging down in rat tails. In a minute the giant would hurl himself onto the deck and start kicking. Jack laughed until he could hardly breathe. When he came to his senses, he saw the other Northmen guffawing and slapping one another on the back. Olaf looked stunned.

“You—you—” he gasped. Then his face twisted and he laughed too. He threw back his head and trumpeted like a wild goose: honk… honk… hoooonk. The tears ran down his face into his soggy mustache. Lucy joined in with childish peals, and even Bold Heart bobbed up and down in a kind of mad ecstasy.

It went on for several minutes. Jack felt the life force shimmering around them. Everyone was gripped by joy. They were alive! They were breathing the sweet air. The sea lay before them like a path with endless possibilities. Then the fit passed, and the warriors leaned against the sides of the ship, panting.

“Hoo! You play a dangerous game, young skald,” said Olaf at last. “You did stop the rain, though, and for that I shall not kill you.”

Jack knew he hadn’t done anything. The sky had simply emptied itself out, but he wasn’t going to tell Olaf.

Gray clouds still hugged the horizon, making it impossible to tell the direction of the sun. Olaf fumbled in a pouch he wore around his neck. Jack moved closer, and the giant, noticing his interest, held out his hand. Jack saw a clear, rectangular stone that reflected the light like a small chunk of ice. It was transparent but not colorless.

“Oh, no,” said Olaf, snatching it away as Jack tried to touch it. “I’m not letting you leech out the magic. This is my sun stone.” He held it up at arm’s length to the blue rift in the clouds. The light shone through, yellow like a cat’s eye. Olaf turned around slowly. At a certain point the light in the stone changed to blue. Jack gasped.

“You’re not the only one with powers,” rumbled the giant. He turned again, and the stone changed back to its original color. Round and round Olaf went until he was satisfied. “It tells you the direction of the sun,” he explained. “That way”—he pointed—“is east, where the sun lies. See, the blue is strong.” He turned, and Jack saw the color shift from blue to yellow to bluish gray. “That’s west, where we’ve come from. All right, you lazy dogs! Put your backs into it!” The Northmen immediately shipped the oars and began rowing.

They set off east with Olaf checking the direction from time to time. After a while the clouds broke up, and he was able to put the stone away. The sunlight raised everyone’s spirits. The warriors sang as they worked:

Sometimes I visit too early.
Sometimes I visit too late.
Either the beer is finished,
Or it hasn’t been brewed as yet.
Life’s a pain in the butt, friends.
Life’s a pain in the butt.

Sometimes I’m asked to dine
When I’ve stuffed myself at home.
What good is a ham on the table
When you’ve already got one inside?
Life’s a pain in the butt, friends.
Life’s a pain in the butt.