LITMIR.BIZ

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here. He’d know I’m not in the grave yet!” He slipped on a particularly glossy patch of ice and sat down hard.

      Hilde rushed to pick him up. Sigurd and Sigrid threw snow about, quarrelling. Gudrun clung to the doorpost, calling out instructions. Eirik sat puffing with shock.

      There was an apologetic cough. “Can we help?” Hilde looked up to see Bjørn and Arne climbing over the gate. The two young men pulled Eirik to his feet and dusted the snow off him tactfully. Eirik dabbed at himself, muttering.

      “It was the ice,” Hilde explained awkwardly. “It was so slippery that he – he slipped.”

      “Ah yes, it’s slippery stuff, ice,” said Arne with a grin. He became serious again. “We’ve brought some news.”

      “Come inside then, before you freeze,” snapped Gudrun, holding the door open. “Hurry! I’m losing all the warmth.”

      They all trooped into the house. “It’s nothing much,” Bjørn began, but Gudrun stopped him. “Not a word! Not a word of your news do I wish to hear till we’ve shown you some hospitality. We still know how to welcome our neighbours here, I hope. Hilde, where’s your manners? Fetch some ale.”

      “In some houses,” Eirik grumbled under his breath, “it’s the man who calls for ale!”

      The ale was drunk in an atmosphere of polite discomfort. “Well,” said Arne, when Gudrun finally allowed him to speak, “we spoke to the Grimsson boys today. We came straight on from the mill, in fact. They’ve heard about Ralf. They were – celebrating, I’m afraid.”

      “Boasting about how they’re going to steal Ralf’s land,” Bjørn added.

      “We wiped the smile off Baldur’s fat face. We told him to leave you alone.”

      “Did you see Peer? Was he all right?” asked Hilde anxiously.

      Bjørn looked thoughtful. “Yes, we saw him. I hope so. There was a little noise going on when we left, and I forgot to speak to him.”

      “Bjørn lost his temper,” Arne grinned.

      Gudrun’s eyes were wet. She mopped them quickly with her apron. “You’re such good friends,” she exclaimed, stretching out her hands. The young men flushed.

      “So we’ll keep a close eye on the Grimssons for you,” Arne went on hastily, “if Eirik has no objection, that is?”

      Everyone looked at Eirik. “What?” said Eirik. “No, er – of course not. Keep an eye on them for all you’re worth, young fellow!”

      “Good,” said Arne. “If they start any trouble, let us know.” He stood up.

      “I’ll come out with you,” said Hilde. She slipped out ahead of Bjørn and Arne, surprising three small trolls who were sneaking across the yard.

      “Get out!” she yelled, scrabbling in her pocket for stones. They bolted under the gate, and Arne and Bjørn ran up. “Are you all right? We heard you shout.”

      “Quite all right, Bjørn, thank you. I was frightening away a few trolls.”

      Arne looked at her admiringly. “So you know how to deal with trolls?”

      “I’m a pretty good shot,” Hilde boasted.

      “But where are you going? To feed the cows? Can I help?”

      “No, no!” said Hilde, blushing as Bjørn nudged his brother and grinned. “You should both get home. Grandfather’s bones tell him a snowstorm is coming.” As she spoke she realised it was already snowing again. “And it looks as if he’s right,” she added.

      Arne and Bjørn said goodnight, and Hilde dived into the dark cowshed. She pulled down hay for Bonny and her calf, and threw down fresh straw. When the animals were comfortable, she left the sheltered shed, tramped across the wild white yard and banged on the farmhouse door. She waited, shivering, while Gudrun unbarred it, and then jumped inside, gasping and laughing and brushing off snow.

      “Brrr! Shut the door, mother! Whatever are you waiting for?”

      “The twins, of course. Aren’t they with you?”

      “No!” said Hilde, alarmed. “Weren’t they with you?”

      Gudrun slammed the door. “I thought they went out after you the second time. They went out just before Bjørn and Arne.”

      “They never joined me. I’ve been in the shed.”

      They looked at each other.

      “Listen,” said Gudrun in a low voice. She pointed to Eirik, asleep by the fire. “Don’t wake him yet. Take the lanterns and go round the steading – call them. They may be building a snow fort or something. If not – ah!” She moved her hands despairingly. “What then?”

      “What next?” said Hilde grimly. “Don’t worry, mother. I’ll find them.” She plunged back out into the darkness.

      The lantern shone on to snow whirling on the ground, picked up and flung about by the wind. It was hard to walk in a straight line.

      “Sigurd?” she shouted. “Sigrid? Where are you? Come in at once, supper’s ready!

      “Sigurd! Come here now!

      “Children! I’ll smack you if you don’t come!”

      A night bird shrieked. What bird would be out in such a night? Huuu – hutututu! She shivered. That was no bird; the trolls were out. The wind swept snow into her eyes. She went round to the sheepfold, swinging the lantern. The sheep lay huddled in the shelter of the fence, drifted snow on their backs.

      “Sigurd? Sigrid?”

      She held the lantern close to the ground, searching for tracks. Her own were obvious, and there were a lot of larger half-filled prints which must belong to Bjørn and Arne. The small light tracks of the little children had disappeared as completely as they had themselves.

      “Oh where are you?” she cried – and stealthy movements caught her eye. She whirled. Trolls were creeping up to the very edge of her lantern’s pool of light, and their eyes reflected flashes of green and red. Hilde stamped her foot and shouted. They scattered, but a moment later a hail of snowballs flew at her, some loaded with stones. She stumbled back to the house.

      Gudrun pulled the door open. “Have you found them?”

      “No! Ma, the trolls are out there. They’ve been snowballing me. Ma, can the trolls have stolen them?” She clutched her mother’s arm, and they stared at each other, white-faced.

      “We must tell Eirik,” said Gudrun. She ran to shake his shoulder. “Eirik, wake up! Wake up! Sigurd and Sigrid are missing!”

      Eirik opened his eyes with a start and listened, bewildered, while Hilde and Gudrun gabbled.

      “They’re missing!”

      “It was after Bjørn and Arne left!”

      “No, it was before!”

      “They went out with you the first time.”

      “I know, but —”

      “Did they ever come back in?”

      “I don’t remember. Did they, Grandfather?”

      Eirik slapped his knee in irritation. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

      Hilde repeated the story in desperation. “They’re lost! In the snow! And the trolls are out! And I made them go! Oh, if only they come back, I’ll never be mean to them again!” She began to cry.

      “Have you looked for them?” Eirik asked. Gudrun’s control broke.

      “Of course she’s looked for them! Why can’t you listen? Oh what shall we do? My poor little twins,

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