Snow-Walker Read Online Free PDF

worry. We’ll manage.”
    He gazed down at her. “I almost think you will.”
    Releasing his gloved hand, she turned to the ship. As an oarsman lifted her over she saw the frosted scum of the water splinter and remake itself on the beach, and felt the splashes on her face harden and crack. The ship swayed as Thorkil sat down beside her, clumsy in his furred coat. The helmsman raised the call, and on each side sixteen oars swiveled up, white with their fur of frost. Then they dipped. At the first slap of wood in water, the ship shuddered and grated slowly off the shingle. The wharvesmen stepped back as she rocked and settled. Mord shouted, “Good luck!”
    â€œHe’s relieved to see us go,” Thorkil muttered.
    â€œThat’s unfair. He’s very bitter about it. Good-bye!” she yelled, leaping up, and Thorkil scrambled up into the stern and clung to the dragon’s neck. “Don’t forget us, Mord! We’ll be back!”
    He seemed almost too far off to hear. But he nodded bleakly. Then he turned away.
    All the cold morning the ship coasted slowly down the Tarvafjord toward the open sea, carried by the icy, ebbing tide. There was little wind and the oarsmen had to row, their backs bending and knees rising in the long, silent rhythms. Fog rose from the water and froze, leaving delicate crystals of ice on spars and planks. The ship was heavy; cluttered with sea chests and baggage, casks of beer, and cargoes for the distant settlements. All around them the fog drifted, blanking out land and sky, and the only sound it did not swallow was the soft dip and splash of the oars.
    Jessa and Thorkil sat huddled up in coats and blankets, slowly getting colder and stiffer. Now there seemed to be nothing to say, and nothing to do but stare out at the drifting gray air and dream and remember. Their fingers ached with cold; Jessa thought Thorkil would have been glad even to row, but no one offered him the chance. She had already noticed how the crew watched them curiously, but rarely spoke.
    Gradually the fog rose. By midmorning they could see the shore, a low rocky line, and behind it hillsides dark with trees, the snow lying among them. Once they passed a little village swathed in the smoke of its fires, but no one ran out from the houses. Only a few goats watched them glide by.
    â€œWhere are they all?” Thorkil muttered.
    â€œHiding.”
    â€œFrom us?”
    â€œFrom the Jarl. It’s his ship, remember.”
    At midday the sun was still low, barely above the hills. Helgi told the helmsman to put in at the next flat stretch of shore.
    Slowly the ship turned and grazed smoothly into the shallows. As Jessa climbed out, she groaned with the stiffness of her legs; the very bones of her face ached. She and Thorkil raced each other up the beach.
    The oarsmen lit a fire and handed around meat and bread, throwing scraps on the wet shingle for the gulls to scream and fight over. Jessa noticed how Helgi kept close. Sudden running would be no use at all.
    â€œHow long will the journey take?” she asked, stretching out her legs and rubbing them.
    Helgi laughed. “Three days—longer, if the weather turns. Tonight we travel down to the sea, tomorrow up the coast to Ost, then up the Yngvir River to a village called Trond. After that—over the ice.”
    Thorkil pulled a face. “Why not go by land?”
    â€œBecause the hills are full of snow and wolves. You’re anxious to arrive, are you?”
    Thorkil was silenced. Looking at him, Jessa noticed the glint of silver on his arm. “Why are you wearing that?” she asked, surprised. It was the arm ring that Gudrun had given him.
    He looked down at it and touched the snake’s smooth head. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really meant to. I just put it on.... It’s valuable, after all. Where’s yours?”
    â€œIn the baggage, but I’ve a good mind to throw it over the side.