Wolfskin by Juliet Marillier Read Free Book Online Page B

at Somerled. Somerled’s blank expression did not change. He turned his back and went to fetch the pony’s blanket saddle. Eyvind rode off down the hill, eager for Wolfskin talk and Wolfskin news.
    News there was plenty. Eirik and Hakon told some on the ride up the hill to Hammarsby, and more that evening over the fine supper Ingi’s household had prepared for them. Karl was there, and Snorri the cattle doctor, who had administered a dose to the breeding cows and pronounced himself satisfied with their general health. Somerled sat at table, neat and quiet, eating little, speaking little, listening, always listening. When he’d ridden in with Snorri, Eyvind had gone out to thank him, but Somerled had simply raised his brows and asked, “For what?” Sometimes there was no understanding the boy; his mind just didn’t seem to work like other people’s.
    Eirik was telling the household how the two Wolfskins had traveled north to assist Ulf with some delicate business, and were now headed back to Jarl Magnus’s court, and then away on the spring viking. This season, Ulf planned to take one of Magnus’s ships far south, into a territory more frequently raided by the men of Jutland. There would be competition: things were likely to get interesting, Eirik said with some relish. Ulf would be at Hammarsby by the next full moon, to collect Somerled and take him to court before setting off on the voyage. Ulf would surely be grateful to Ingi and Eyvind, for Somerled was looking very well indeed. Maybe they’d make a Wolfskin out of him too, Eirik added with a grin. But Somerled wasnot smiling. Like a small creature of the shadows, he slipped away from the room without a word, and when Eyvind went out later to find him, the boy was lying in bed, curled up tightly with the blanket over his face.
    â€œSomerled?”
    There was no response.
    â€œSomerled! I know you’re not asleep. What’s wrong?”
    â€œNothing.” The voice was muffled. “Why would anything be wrong?”
    â€œI just thought—”
    â€œGo away, Eyvind. I’m trying to sleep.”
    It would have been far easier to obey and go back out to the hall where his family and their guests still sat over ale and good talk. Somehow, Eyvind found he could not do that.
    â€œWe don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” he said quietly, sitting down on the sleeping platform next to Somerled. “But I’ll stay here, anyway.”
    There was a long silence.
    â€œYou don’t have to.” Somerled’s voice was a whisper.
    â€œI know,” Eyvind said. “Friends don’t help each other because they have to. They do it because they want to.”
    After a while, Somerled spoke again. Eyvind could tell he was trying hard not to cry.
    â€œEyvind?”
    â€œMmm?”
    â€œThis is something you can’t fix. Nobody can.”
    Eyvind could think of nothing to say; the hopeless finality of the boy’s tone silenced him.
    â€œI know you mean well,” said Somerled thinly. It was the closest he had ever come to a thank you.
    Â 
    The time passed swiftly. Still they swam and explored and hunted, but something had changed. Somerled was pushing himself harder, doing his best to keep up and to get everything right, as if to master as much as he could before he must leave. But he had gone quiet again, and that strange darkness was back in his eyes. It was not possible to talk to him about it, for every attempt was cut off by a furious denial of any problem. So Eyvind kept quiet and concentrated on teaching, since learning things was the purpose of Somerled’s visit.
    When it was close to full moon and the weather set fair, they journeyed far into the woods and built a shelter. They stayed there three days. On the third day, they armed themselves with spears and tracked a wild boar, and at dusk they cornered and killed it. It was Eyvind’s throw