“When Bjorn was alive…” The dwarf swallowed and wiped his eyes. “When Bjorn was alive, this hall rang with laughter. Women and children still lived here, and on that night we were posing riddles.”

“I remember,” said Big Half.

“Bjorn had given us this puzzle,” said Little Half.

Its shaping power passes knowing.

It seeks the living one by one.

Eternal, yet without life, it moves

Everywhere in the wide world.

“The answer, of course, was Death. The riddle had no sooner been set when a gray presence drifted through the wall. The lamps grew dim and the smaller children began to cry.

“‘I seek Bjorn Skull-Splitter,’ it said in a ghastly voice. We were all terrified, but Bjorn bravely drew his sword. ‘I am the one you seek. Why are you here?’

“‘I am the answer to your riddle,’ replied the hogboon.

“Our leader grew pale. ‘Take the women and children from the hall,’ he ordered. ‘Now begone, foul creature, or I will be forced to kill you.’

“‘None may slay me,’ the hogboon whispered, and leaped at him. Bjorn sliced it in two with his sword, but the parts came together like smoke, and it laid its hand on Bjorn’s chest. Our poor leader groaned and dropped his weapon. In an instant his face had aged ten years.

“‘Take up your sword, Bjorn Skull-Splitter. This battle is not over,’ said the hogboon. Bjorn, may Odin remember him, fought on. Each time the hogboon touched him, he aged. It was like watching a cat play with a mouse. At the last Bjorn could only lie helplessly on the floor. He tried to lift his weapon, but by then his hand was so gnarled, he couldn’t open his fingers. He crumbled away into dust before our eyes. The next day Einar Adder-Tooth’s army invaded.”

“By all the gods of Asgard,” swore Thorgil, “this crime cries out for vengeance.”

“So it does, princess,” said the dwarf, “but much happens for which there is no remedy. The living must go on.” Jack had a moment of satisfaction when Thorgil looked startled. She had completely forgotten she was supposed to be a princess.

By now exhaustion was falling over all of them, particularly the Bard. They had walked a long way and the night’s revels had been wearing. “We can continue this conversation in the morning,” said Little Half, noting the old man’s tiredness. “I’ll bring fresh straw and you can sleep out here. I don’t recommend the sleeping cupboards. They’ve been thrown up in too often.”

“I could sing for you, to help you sleep,” offered the skald.

“I’d rather listen to Pictish beasts howling at the moon,” said the Bard. “There’s one more question, Little Half. Why does Adder-Tooth want a princess?”

“Ah!” The dwarf looked embarrassed. It was he, after all, who had carried that information to the king. “Why does any ruler want a princess? He needs a wife.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

ESCAPE PLANS

Jack thought Thorgil would never calm down. She stormed about, kicking straw and swearing bloodthirsty oaths until the drunken warriors began to stir. Skakki kept telling her, “I won’t allow it, little sister. You have my word.”

“You have my word too,” said the Bard. She screamed at both of them.

“How can she be forced into marriage?” said Jack. “I thought Northmen brides had to consent.”

“That’s the ideal situation,” the old man said. “But Adder-Tooth needs a princess to insure his kingship. He has no right to the title.”

“I’ll kill myself before I let that slime bucket near me!”

Thorgil snatched up a knife someone had left on a table, but it slid from her hand. She bent to retrieve it and her knees buckled. She collapsed on the floor. “Curse that rune of protection! Curse it! It won’t let me die!” She thrashed about in the straw.

“Perhaps I could bring her a calming drink,” said Little Half, who had dodged her fists several times.

“Something hot. No wine or mead,” said the Bard. He laid his hand on her forehead and murmured words in the Blessed Speech. She shuddered and lay still.

“We should leave now,” Skakki said in a low voice. He nodded at the iron door, where a few bleary-eyed guards squatted.

“I don’t relish a long, dark walk to the village with a hogboon wandering about,” said the Bard. “It may prefer to feed on full-moon nights, but it’s clearly restless. Only the spirits in the wall are keeping it out. I wouldn’t like to encounter them, either.”

“Would they attack us?” Jack thought about the hogboon slowly devouring the life of the wise woman and Bjorn Skull-Splitter.

“Probably not,” the old man said. “The spirits in the wall are innocent sacrificial victims. They strive to defeat the one who slew them, but if aroused, they might lash out at anyone who came near.”

Great, thought Jack, hugging himself against the growing chill in the hall. The more he learned about spirits, the less he liked them—Jenny Greenteeth, the draugr, hogboons. But there was also the gentle ghost who had stood outside the old Roman house with his two children. Restless spirits weren’t all bad. Perhaps most people noticed only the ones that were.

The dwarf returned with herbal tea for them all. Then he and his brother made comfortable beds of straw in the cleanest part of the hall and fetched sheepskins for the coldest hours before dawn.

Jack fell asleep quickly and slept like the dead until after the sun rose. The workers from the village had already passed through and the servants had opened up the windows. A chill breeze ruffled his hair.

Jack sat up and blearily looked around. The hall had seemed halfway decent in the dim light of the night before. Now it showed itself an utter ruin. Ale-horns were strewn everywhere with gnawed bones and half-eaten trenchers of bread. Servants were turning over the straw with pitchforks and tossing the riper bits into the fire. The warriors were crawling out of their cupboards. To go by the groans, they all had filthy hangovers, and they staggered outside to urinate over the edge of the cliff.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” apologized Little Half, flinching at Thorgil’s murderous glare. “You really must get up so we can put this place to rights. It’s much nicer on the cliff.”

“Oh, leave me alone,” she muttered.

Jack helped her outside. They sat upwind from the warriors on stones overlooking the water. The sun was just breaking over the hills to the east, and the bay below them was still in deep shade. The water was dark blue with a frosting of seagulls.

“My head feels like trolls have been playing knucklebones with it all night,” Thorgil moaned. “Ohhh, everything is moving.”

Jack turned his head sharply and found that his vision was swimming too. “That tea Little Half gave us…” he said.

“What?” the shield maiden said faintly.

“That drink we had just before going to bed. I think it was drugged.”

“You can’t trust anyone in this snake pit,” she said.

“Apparently not.” Jack was annoyed at himself. He should have been more suspicious of Little Half. He liked him because he’d been a friend of Bjorn, but the dwarf was in the service of Einar Adder-Tooth now.

Little Half brought out hot cider and oatcakes. “Traitor,” snarled Thorgil.

“Now, princess, it isn’t as bad you think it is.” The dwarf knelt by her and placed her fingers around the warm cider cup. “Everyone suffers changes of fortune, and sometimes they turn out better than you think. My brother and I felt terrible when Bjorn died, but Adder-Tooth is no worse than most masters.”

Thorgil looked up, surprised. “You’ve had many masters?”

“We’re wandering entertainers. We go from hall to hall, and when one group gets tired of us, we move on. We used to visit Bjorn regularly, but we’ve also worked for Grimble the Sullen, Leif Lousy-Beard, and Ragnar the Ravenous. There aren’t many jobs for a man like me. I’m too small to be a warrior, and my singing voice would curdle the milk inside a cow. But I know how to lighten a dull evening with lively tales and games. I’m also an excellent servant. I give good advice without appearing to do so, and I perform chores a king can’t trust to others.”

“Such as drugging people,” said Jack. His head ached dully and he had trouble concentrating. The dwarf shrugged.

“What does Big Half do?” asked Thorgil.

“He juggles knives, but he usually winds up cutting himself. He does acrobatic tricks. Most of the time he falls flat on his face, and the warriors seem to find that amusing. I’m afraid my brother isn’t the swiftest deer in the herd. Without my care, he would have starved long ago. He also plays Bonk Ball.”

“What’s that?”

“My own invention,” Little Half said proudly. “You need a wooden ball wrapped in leather and a stick of wood called a ‘bat’. A player throws the ball at Big Half as hard as he can, and he knocks it away with the bat. If he misses, it goes bonk on his head.”

Jack smiled grimly. Big Half definitely wasn’t the swiftest deer in the herd if he let his little brother talk him into such a game. “Tell me more about that wall outside.”

Little Half hunkered down and helped himself to one of the oatcakes. “When you ask for anything from a hogboon, it expects to be paid back. The night after Adder-Tooth took over, the hogboon took shape in the hall. I can tell you, everyone dived for cover. Warriors were fighting one another to get into the sleeping cupboards. They knew swords were no use against it.

“‘I have granted your wish, Einar Adder-Tooth,’ the creature said. ‘Now I have come for payment. Each full-moon night I expect a living human left for me on my barrow. If you do not provide this, I will take you in its stead.’ Then it turned into a mist and disappeared through the wall.

“The full moon was just past,” the dwarf continued. “Adder-Tooth asked the Picts about the body that lay in that barrow, and they said it was an ancient king who had also built a haunted tower at the other end of the island. He had buried thirty men alive beneath its stones. Some years later, on his wedding day, relatives of those men slew him and carried off his bride.

“Adder-Tooth reasoned that you had to fight ghosts with ghosts and that thirty vengeful spirits should be enough to fight off one hogboon. He ordered the tower dismantled and brought here. He didn’t need to fortify the seaward side because hogboons can’t travel through water.

“The minute we started dismantling the tower, the voices started. You couldn’t understand the words, but the rage was unmistakable. The horses bolted. Men had to drag the carts themselves. They didn’t complain, though, because fear drove them, and they got the wall up before the next full moon.”

“If hogboons can’t travel through water,” Jack said with a yawn, trying to gather his thoughts, “why didn’t Adder-Tooth simply go to another island?”

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