The Sea of Trolls

“That’s right. Sven doesn’t know anything about verse, and Eric Pretty-Face hears only half of what’s said. Rune, well, he’s set in his ways.”

“You think it’s good?”

“I’m a skald trained by Dragon Tongue,” Jack said sternly. “Of course I think it’s good.”

“Oh, thank you!” Thorgil flung her arms around him. They held each other for a long moment in the pearly light. The birds of the forest had awakened and were greeting the new day. Thorgil sat back and unclasped the necklace of silver leaves she’d retrieved from Frith. “I want to give this to Lucy.”

“Are you sure?” Jack said. “I thought you really liked it.”

“I’m allowed to be as generous as anyone else,” she snapped. “Are you calling me a miser?”

“No, no,” Jack said.

“Well then. I do like it. That’s why it’s a great sacrifice to give it up. Besides, I have Thor’s hammer and—this.” She closed her hand over the invisible rune.

Jack looked longingly at her hand. “Someday you’ll have to pass that on.”

“Someday everything has to be passed on. But I will do it gladly and without regret,” the shield maiden said proudly.

They returned to the others. Lucy was sitting up, half dazed, with Bold Heart on her lap. The ship was already in the water, and all the Northmen were aboard except for Rune. “Here,” he said, handing Jack the glass bottle with the poppy on the side.

Jack held it up. At the bottom were a few drops of liquid. “Song-mead!” he cried.

“When I went to store the bottle, I saw that it wasn’t quite empty,” said Rune. “I don’t know how much good so little can do, but I think you’ll find it useful.”

“Thank you,” the boy said. Now that the actual moment of parting had come, his anger at the old warrior had vanished.

“Thank you. You saved us from Frith and gave me back my voice. You’re a brave lad. If you were a little more vicious, you’d make a fine warrior.”

“I don’t think so,” said Jack.

Then it really was time to go. Thorgil and Rune climbed into the ship, and Skakki gave orders for them to row. “Good-bye, Jack. Good-bye, Lucy. Bold Heart, you can come with me if you like,” called Thorgil. But the crow ruffled his feathers and stayed put.

The long, beautifully made craft slipped through the water with scarcely a splash and made its way to the open sea. It disappeared into the mist as though it had never been.

“Come on, Lucy,” Jack said, lifting his little sister to her feet. “We have a long walk ahead, and Mother and Father are waiting.”

Chapter Forty-three WELCOME HOME

Mist drifted through the trees and water dripped off the leaves. Jack followed a path he knew led to the Roman road. He had his blackened staff from Jotunheim in one hand and Bold Heart on his shoulder. With his other hand, he led Lucy. “Can’t I lie down?” she complained. “I’m sooo tired.”

“We’ll rest when we get to the road. And you should stop getting a free ride,” Jack told Bold Heart. The crow only gripped harder.

The boy trudged on. Sorrow fought with joy in his mind. He was going home, but he had lost Thorgil and Rune forever. For the past months all he’d thought about was returning here. Now he felt let down. There’d be no more sailing, no more adventures. But he missed his family dreadfully. If only they didn’t live in a tiny village where the most exciting thing was a ewe having twins. How could he go back to hauling water, stacking firewood, and chasing black-faced sheep?

“I want to sit down now,” said Lucy.

Jack could see the Roman road looming through the bracken. He led her to its moss-covered stones, and they both rested for a while. Jack shooed Bold Heart away. The crow landed nearby with loud caws of complaint. “If you don’t like it, go back to Thorgil,” the boy said. He rubbed his shoulder where the bird’s claws had dug in.

He took out food the Northmen had given him: roast goose and dry bread they had traded for farther north. Lucy nibbled the bread, and Bold Heart pecked at a shred of meat. Water dripped all around. They were getting soaked.

“How much farther is it?” said the little girl.

“An hour’s walk. Maybe more.”

“I’m tired,” she said.

To divert her, Jack took out the necklace of silver leaves. “Thorgil wanted you to have this.”

“Ooh!” Lucy grabbed the necklace and put it around her neck. “It’s from the queen,” she said, running her fingers over the bright metal.

“It’s from Thorgil,” he corrected.

“No! I saw the queen wearing it. She took me away to her palace. She gave me honey cakes and flummery.”

“That’s not true,” Jack said, losing patience. “You were sleeping on filthy straw and starving.”

“I was not! The queen sent me this necklace!”

Jack yanked it from Lucy’s neck. “You can have this back when you’re grateful to the person who really gave it to you.”

“You kindaskitur!”

“Call me ‘sheep droppings’ all you want, but—” Bold Heart cawed and flew into a tree. Jack was instantly alert. “Hide in the bracken, dear,” he whispered. Lucy, without a word, tumbled off the edge of the Roman road and scurried under a bush. She had certainly learned about avoiding danger.

Jack stood in the middle of the road. He heard footsteps and a tuneless whistling. He saw a figure emerge from the mist. At the same time the figure saw him.

“Don’t hurt me!” the boy yelled, turning and fleeing back down the road.

“Colin!” cried Jack, but the blacksmith’s son pounded away as fast as he could go. Jack looked down at himself. He was wearing the clothes the Mountain Queen had given him. Beneath his marten-fur coat he wore a fine green tunic and brown pants stuffed into his cowskin boots. He had a leather scabbard on his belt, and the knife from that scabbard was in his hand.

“Oh, my,” said Jack. “I look like a Northman. Come on, Lucy. We’d better get home before someone shoots me with an arrow.”

She climbed up and took his hand. “If I’m with you, they won’t shoot,” she said, which was so brave and perceptive, Jack leaned over and kissed her on the top of her head. They walked on. Bold Heart immediately fastened himself to Jack’s shoulder.

After awhile they heard many voices in the distance. The mist was thinning and sunlight broke through, turning the autumn forest red and gold.

“There he is! Wait! Don’t shoot yet! There’s a girl with him!” said several voices.

Yet? thought Jack. They came out to a clearing. Several men crouched with the kind of weapons you found around farms. John the Fletcher had an arrow nocked to his bow.

“Father!” shrieked Lucy, running forward.

“Lucy?” said Father, dropping his scythe. “Jack?” He swept the little girl into his arms. John the Fletcher lowered his bow.

“It’s a berserker!” yelled Colin. “He came at me with an axe!”

“Don’t be silly,” said the chief of the village. “That’s Giles Crookleg’s lad, but he’s so big.”

Jack stood forth with his ash wood staff. Bold Heart sat on his shoulder. He knew he couldn’t have grown much in the time he’d been gone, but he must look entirely different. He certainly felt different from the boy who’d been dragged away by Northmen.

“He saved me from a horrible monster. And he fought trolls and dragons!” Lucy told Father.