prowling figure on his own roof, for he called out, “It’s gone; you’ve missed it. Come on down.”
But the dogs, which had been running about eagerly with their noses down, began to bark and growl, and make little dashes at a blackly shadowed corner of the yard near the cowshed.
“Don’t tell me they’ve found a real troll,” Ralf muttered. He crossed the yard in a couple of quick strides, Peer beside him, Gunnar close behind.
In the angle of the wall was a crawling darkness the size of a small child. “Gods!” Gunnar’s voice clotted with horror. “Look at that. Where’s its
head?”
Peer’s skin prickled. Then he saw the troll had merely crouched down, wrapping skinny arms protectively over its head. Its bare flanks gleamed dimly like oiled leather. There was a sound of chewing, and a strong stink of old herrings. So it had been robbing the fish-drying racks!
Ralf clapped his hands. “Go on! Get out of here! Shoo!” he shouted.
A pair of luminous green eyes winked open. The troll gaped in threat, and produced a dry, frightening hiss, accompanied by an even stronger smell of fish. Ralf dragged the dogs away by their collars. “Stand back, Peer—give it a chance to run.”
Behind them, Harald leaped into the yard. He staggered, touching a hand to the ground to steady himself; then he was up, his naked blade glinting. “Out of my way!” he shouted, running at the troll.
The round green eyes scrunched into terrified half-moons. The troll dived away, fat sides pumping, long bald tail curving and switching. It scrambled around the corner of the cowshed. But Harald was faster. He threw himself forward and stamped down heavily on its tail, jerking it to a halt. The trolltugged and writhed to get free, squealing dreadfully. “Let it go! Let it go!” Ralf shouted. But Harald struck.
As the blow flashed down, the troll gave a final desperate wrench, and leaped crazily up the hillside as if shot from a catapult, leaving its narrow, tapering tail thrashing horribly under Harald’s boot. There was a sickening smell of stale armpits and rotten eggs.
Harald leaped back in disgust and slammed his sword into its sheath. Ralf and Arnë broke out coughing, and the dogs whined, wiping their noses on their paws. With a shiver of loathing, Gunnar turned away from the jerkily wriggling tail. Peer rubbed a hand over his eyes. What had he and the Nis begun?
“I need a drink after that,” said Ralf drily. He held open the farmhouse door and nodded for everyone to go in.
Gudrun, the twins, and Hilde and Astrid clustered around the door.
“Was there really a troll?”
“What happened?”
“What was that noise?”
“Poof!” Sigurd clutched his nose. “What’s that
awful
smell?”
“There was a troll, all right,” Peer said to Hilde.
“Harald was so fast,” said Arnë in admiration. “What a warrior! He nearly got it!”
“He got its
tail”
said Peer with bitter sarcasm.
Softhearted Sigrid gasped. “Oh, the poor thing! Oh, thatmust have hurt so much! Will it be all right?”
“It will grow a new one,” Hilde soothed her.
Harald overheard. “Yes, a pity,” he said to Hilde lightly. “Your little brother wanted me to kill a troll, didn’t he? How the tales do come to life!”
“Why didn’t you let the dogs pull it down?” Gunnar growled at Ralf. “You could have nailed the head to your barn door to scare the others. Like hanging up a dead crow. The best way to deal with vermin.”
Ralf poured himself a cup of ale, and pushed the jug toward Gunnar and Harald. He looked as if he was struggling for words. “I didn’t want it killed,” he said at last, politely enough. “The trolls may be a nuisance, but they’re our neighbors, Gunnar. We’ve got to live here with them. We’ve all got to get along.”
“Get along with trolls?” Gunnar showed a set of brownish teeth through his bristly beard. “Root ’em up, smoke ’em out. That’s what I’d do.”
Peer thought of the
But the dogs, which had been running about eagerly with their noses down, began to bark and growl, and make little dashes at a blackly shadowed corner of the yard near the cowshed.
“Don’t tell me they’ve found a real troll,” Ralf muttered. He crossed the yard in a couple of quick strides, Peer beside him, Gunnar close behind.
In the angle of the wall was a crawling darkness the size of a small child. “Gods!” Gunnar’s voice clotted with horror. “Look at that. Where’s its
head?”
Peer’s skin prickled. Then he saw the troll had merely crouched down, wrapping skinny arms protectively over its head. Its bare flanks gleamed dimly like oiled leather. There was a sound of chewing, and a strong stink of old herrings. So it had been robbing the fish-drying racks!
Ralf clapped his hands. “Go on! Get out of here! Shoo!” he shouted.
A pair of luminous green eyes winked open. The troll gaped in threat, and produced a dry, frightening hiss, accompanied by an even stronger smell of fish. Ralf dragged the dogs away by their collars. “Stand back, Peer—give it a chance to run.”
Behind them, Harald leaped into the yard. He staggered, touching a hand to the ground to steady himself; then he was up, his naked blade glinting. “Out of my way!” he shouted, running at the troll.
The round green eyes scrunched into terrified half-moons. The troll dived away, fat sides pumping, long bald tail curving and switching. It scrambled around the corner of the cowshed. But Harald was faster. He threw himself forward and stamped down heavily on its tail, jerking it to a halt. The trolltugged and writhed to get free, squealing dreadfully. “Let it go! Let it go!” Ralf shouted. But Harald struck.
As the blow flashed down, the troll gave a final desperate wrench, and leaped crazily up the hillside as if shot from a catapult, leaving its narrow, tapering tail thrashing horribly under Harald’s boot. There was a sickening smell of stale armpits and rotten eggs.
Harald leaped back in disgust and slammed his sword into its sheath. Ralf and Arnë broke out coughing, and the dogs whined, wiping their noses on their paws. With a shiver of loathing, Gunnar turned away from the jerkily wriggling tail. Peer rubbed a hand over his eyes. What had he and the Nis begun?
“I need a drink after that,” said Ralf drily. He held open the farmhouse door and nodded for everyone to go in.
Gudrun, the twins, and Hilde and Astrid clustered around the door.
“Was there really a troll?”
“What happened?”
“What was that noise?”
“Poof!” Sigurd clutched his nose. “What’s that
awful
smell?”
“There was a troll, all right,” Peer said to Hilde.
“Harald was so fast,” said Arnë in admiration. “What a warrior! He nearly got it!”
“He got its
tail”
said Peer with bitter sarcasm.
Softhearted Sigrid gasped. “Oh, the poor thing! Oh, thatmust have hurt so much! Will it be all right?”
“It will grow a new one,” Hilde soothed her.
Harald overheard. “Yes, a pity,” he said to Hilde lightly. “Your little brother wanted me to kill a troll, didn’t he? How the tales do come to life!”
“Why didn’t you let the dogs pull it down?” Gunnar growled at Ralf. “You could have nailed the head to your barn door to scare the others. Like hanging up a dead crow. The best way to deal with vermin.”
Ralf poured himself a cup of ale, and pushed the jug toward Gunnar and Harald. He looked as if he was struggling for words. “I didn’t want it killed,” he said at last, politely enough. “The trolls may be a nuisance, but they’re our neighbors, Gunnar. We’ve got to live here with them. We’ve all got to get along.”
“Get along with trolls?” Gunnar showed a set of brownish teeth through his bristly beard. “Root ’em up, smoke ’em out. That’s what I’d do.”
Peer thought of the
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