Heroes of the Valley Read Online Free PDF Page B

heroes had walked long ago, and only the Trows lived now. His mouth was dry, his eyes staring. He saw no movement; heard nothing but the wind.
    Slowly, slowly, Halli tore up a long clutch of grass. Slowly he held it out towards the ewe. Slowly he backed away, with a smile of supplication.
    The ewe turned her head, cropped grass. She was no longer looking in Halli's direction.
    Halli hesitated. Then he made a desperate lunge.
    The ewe's legs kicked: she was away, past the cairn, onto the moors.
    Halli fell to his knees, tears breaking in his eyes. He watched the ewe dance away across the grass. She came to rest again, not far distant. Not far – but she was out of reach now. Gone. He could not follow her.
    A few feet from him, the cairn rose dark and silent. If he had stretched out a hand he could have touched it. The thought made the hairs rise on the back of his neck.
    Stumbling, gasping, he backed away down the slope towards the safety of the wall.
    For the rest of the day he watched the skyline, but the ewe did not reappear. Dusk came; Halli crouched uneasily in the darkness of his hut. Sometime in the depths of the night he heard a high-pitched screaming, a sound of animal terror and pain. It ceased abruptly. Halli stared into blackness, every muscle cringing; he did not sleep until dawn.
    Next morning he climbed the slope again and, from a wary distance, looked beyond the cairns.
    The ewe was gone, but here and there, scattered in an outflung arc, he saw red and tattered strips of wool, a bloody raggedness on the ground.

3
    W HEN EGIL LIKENED Svein's old mother to a she-toad, Svein soon got to hear about it. He set straight off to Egil's hall and nailed a wolf pelt to the door. Egil came rushing out.
    'What's this? A challenge? Where do you want to fight?'
    'Right here, or anywhere, it's your decision.'
    'We'll do it on Dove Crag.'
    Up on high they wrestled, each trying to push the other off. Svein was confident; his iron limbs had never failed him. But Egil matched his strength. The sun went down, the sun came up; there they were, still locked together. Neither would budge. They were fixed so still that birds began roosting on their heads.
    'They'll be nesting here soon,' said Svein. 'That one's brought a twig.'
    'One of yours is laying an egg.'
    With that they parleyed and became blood-kinsmen. Years later, they stood together at the Battle of the Rock.
    'It was the Trows for sure,' Uncle Brodir said. 'They only emerge at night. Why do you doubt it?'
    Halli shook his head. 'I did not say I doubted it, just . . . What do they eat most of the time, when no boys or sheep come their way?'
    Uncle Brodir cuffed him good-naturedly around the head. 'As always, you ask too many questions. Here is one in return. You're sure you did not pass the cairns?'
    'No, Uncle. Certainly not!'
    'Good. Because that would bring ruin upon us all, or so the stories have it. Now then, forget the ewe. Tell your father she broke her neck in a fall. We cannot move the flock tonight. Let's build up the fire. I have fresh meat with me.'
    A day after the loss of the sheep, Halli had seen Brodir, beard resplendent, stout staff in one hand, clambering up the hill to bring him home. They had made a joyful greeting.
    Brodir said: 'Your exile has done you good. I have never seen you look so hale and sinewy. No doubt you will cause even more trouble when you return home.'
    'Have I been missed?' Halli said.
    'Not hugely, save for Katla and me. The rest seem to struggle on without you.'
    With a sigh, Halli rearranged the branches of the fire. 'What is the news?'
    'Little enough. Your parents grow harassed at the proximity of the Gathering.'
    'I am not too late for it, then? I was growing fearful.'
    'It is seven days away, and the House struggles to be ready. Low Meadow has been cleared and the grass scythed. The first booths have been constructed. Your brother Leif oversees preparations; he struts around in his cloak like a pompous goose, giving orders that