"Nicola Griffith - A Troll Story" - читать интересную книгу автора (Griffith Nicola)

While Glam could appear during the day, it was at night that he spread true terror: He ran on the rooftops until the beams buckled, he rolled great boulders down the fjell, destroying some outbuildings entirely, and he laughed. His deep horrible laughter ground over Torsgaard and the farms of Oppland, crushing the spirit of men, driving cattle mad, and women to weeping in their terror that Glam was coming for them. The dairymaid who had escaped to another farm was found beside a barn, used and torn and tossed aside, like a broken doll. The still-living hired man ran mad and took an axe up the mountain, foaming at the mouth, vowing to chop Glam to pieces. The manТs head, and pieces of his torso, rained down on Torsgaard all that night. The whole countryside felt disaster looming. Hjorda bade her daughters to sleep in her alcove, and they carried eating knives in their belts that were a little too long and a little too sharp for manners.

But as the days grew longer and the Sun stood higher in the sky, the hauntings lessened.

УSummer Sun is not kind to trolls,Ф Hjorda observed. УBut when winter comes he will be back, and no one in Oppland will be safe.Ф

Tors did not want to hear it. He hired more men and a new dairymaid and worked to rebuild the broken outbuildings. His wife insisted that he strengthen the doors and roof beams of Torsgaard. And when this was done she sent him to the Thing, only this time she sent Kari with him. УFind a good strong man,Ф she told her daughter, Уone who can do more than tend the sheep during winter. Spend your portion to hire him if you mustЧfor what good is a dowry to a dead maid?Ф

Now it happened that at this time a ship came into the fjord and Agnar the Strong, who was tired of adventuring in foreign lands, came to the Thing and heard that Tors of Torsgaard needed a winter shepherd but that no man would take up his offer. He sought out Tors and asked of him, УWhy will no one take up this offer of yours?Ф

УThe last shepherd, Glam, died on the fjell and there is some superstition attached to his name,Ф said Tors evasively. УHave some of this mead.Ф Now Tors was generally an honest man, and his shame at speaking false would have been apparent even to a lesser man of the world than Agnar. Agnar declined the mead and watched thoughtfully as Tors walked away, ashamed.

УSir, allow me to offer you the mead again,Ф came a womanТs voice from behind him. He turned to face the maid with bright blue eyes. УI am Kari Torsdottir. Drink the mead and I will tell you of Glam.Ф He did, and she did, leaving nothing out, and finishing, УЧand so if you would look after our winter sheep and keep them safe, you could have my marriage portion and welcome.Ф

УMoney is no good to a dead man.Ф

УMy mother says that if you are but a strong man, good and true, and willing to listen to her, you will prevail, for trolls, even trolls who wear a manТs skin, are stupid, being made mostly of rock.Ф

And so Agnar the Strong agreed to come to Torsgaard and be the winter shepherd, but instead of waiting for morketiden, he returned directly with Tors and Kari, for he was curiously unwilling to let TorsТ daughter out of his sight.

His open face, clear blue eyes, and ox-wide shoulders were welcomed by all. He noted the great gashes in the doors and the rents and holes in walls and gates but kept his own counsel. All through the summer, Agnar helped at the farm. He repaired stone walls and cut huge trees to reinforce roof beams, he helped herd cattle, and walked with Kari and Lisbet when they went berry-picking. As the evenings drew in, he held their yarn while they spinned and Hjorda did not fail to notice that he was always willing to fetch a cape for Kari, or pump the bellows to coax the fire hotter when she sat by it. A good man.

On the eve of the first day of morketiden, Hjorda drew him aside. УGlam will return, perhaps as soon as tomorrow.Ф

УGlam doesnТt frighten me!Ф

УThen you are more of a fool than I thought. He is more stone troll than man, and more heartless. Alive he was twice as powerful as a brace of bulls. Now even bulls would flee. And he wants to destroy this farm and all the people in it, only this time he is stronger and will be after choicer fare than the dairymaid.Ф Hjorda noted AgnarТs quick glance at Kari, combing her hair before the hearth. УYes. Glam will come for the eldest daughter of the house. If you wish to save her, you will listen to me.Ф But Agnar knew in his heart he needed nothing but his own strong back, and he laughed, and walked away.

That night the ground shook as Glam stalked the farm, his bones so heavy his feet sank 10 inches into the turf. His awful, grinding laugh filled the dark as he tore off chunks of wall and gate. A rending crash and a high-pitched scream split the dark, followed by the terrible sound of a large animal being torn limb from limb, and the splash and spatter of blood on the iron-hard ground of the barn enclosure. Then with a roar of satisfaction he ran up the mountain and was gone. When the people crept from the hearth hall the next day, they found TorsТ poor horse ripped into quarters and its guts arranged in a rune of challenge.

The next night, Agnar the Strong, who had been a-viking as far as Novgorod and the shores of Ireland, who had burned priests and fought the hordes of Rus, who was famed for his strength and bravery from Oppland to Hordaland to Rogaland and beyond, sought out Hjorda, the woman of Torsgaard. УIf you speak on this subject, I will listen, and do as you say.Ф

And so as the Sun went down that evening, Tors found himself strangely sleepy, and while the great fire still roared in the hearth, he fell sound asleep and snored on his wallbed by the inglenook. Hjorda directed Agnar to pick up her drugged husband and bundle him into the bed at the far end of the hall, away from the passage that led to the door. Then she dressed Lisbet in her warmest clothes, and the two of them stole out to hide in the barn, cosy in the straw with the cattle. Then there was only Kari and Agnar. They stood opposite each other by the hearth.

Agnar, forgetting himself in his fear for her, took her by the hand. УItТs not too late to hide with your mother and sister.Ф

УYou will need me,Ф she said. УWe must bring Glam inside.Ф

When the embers began to die, Kari, still wearing her clothes, left the curtain between the passage and the hall open, and lay down on the wallbed by the inglenook; Agnar, similarly dressed, wrapped himself like a sausage in an old, heavy fur cloak so that one end was tucked tightly under his feet and the other securely under his chin, leaving his head free so he could look about. Then he settled himself on the wall bench opposite KariТs bed. In front of the bench lay a bench beam, a huge ancient thing set into the floor when the farm was built. He set his feet against it and straightened his legs so he was firmly braced between the beam and the wall. And then he waited.

The embers glowed then dulled then sighed into ash. KariТs breath grew soft and slow and regular. Once, there was a rattle as a gust of wind shook the only gate still standing. Far, far away he heard the lonely howl of a wolf. But AgnarТs heart did not beat soft or easy, it hammered like a smith beating hot iron into an axe-head, and he touched the sword at his belt constantly. The hilt was cold as only iron can be, and he could no longer quite feel his feet.

Sudden as an avalanche, something leaped onto the roof and thundered about, driving down with its heels, until the new beam buckled and splintered and the roof almost fell in. Glam. The walls shook and Glam jumped down, and the earth trembled as he strode to the door. A sharp creak as he laid his huge horny hand on the door and suddenly it was ripped away, lintel and all, and moonlight briefly lit the hearthroom. But then Glam blocked out all light as he thrust his huge head through. The whites of his strange eyes gleamed like sickly oysters, and AgnarТs heart failed him. GlamТs head brushed the roof of the passage as he came into the hall.


УGlam,Ф said a soft voice, and Kari stood there slim and brave by the door, her hair silver in the moonlight. УI will come with you, but it is cold outside and I must have a bearskin to lie on. Bring that old cloak on the bench by the fire. IТll wait for you outside.Ф And AgnarТs heart filled with admiration for her and there was no room left for fear.

Glam strode to the sausage-shaped bundle of fur, and tried to pick it up with one hand. Agnar was braced and ready. He made no sound and the fur did not move. Glam pulled harder, but Agnar braced his feet all the more firmly. He was sweating now. Glam grunted, and laid two hands on the bundle, and now a titanic struggle began, Glam hauling up, Agnar fighting to push against the bench beam with all the strength of his muscle and sinew yet make no noise. But then Glam put his back into it and the old cloak tore in two. He stood there, the fur in his hands and his horrible eyes staring, and Agnar flung himself at the troll, gripped him around the waist and set his feet. With a massive grunt, he squeezed tight and started to bend the monster backward. It would not be the first time he had snapped a manТs spine in a wrestling match.