Free Wolfskin by Juliet Marillier Page B

king; many follow him. The other way…that is a strange way indeed, through waters uncharted, with gulls and seals for companions.”
    â€œIt is enough.” Somerled’s voice had changed. The edge was gone; he sounded, if anything, relieved. “You speak truth, I see that. There is no doubt which of these paths is to be mine. What recompense do you require for this telling?”
    â€œI want none from you,” said the seer. “Your friend’s gift is enough.”
    â€œThat? What use is a trifle like that? Why don’t you ask for silver, or fine amber, or a sheep or two? You’ll never get out of this hovel that way.”
    â€œYou have much to learn. Now, it is time for you to go. Your friend waits.”
    The cat withdrew its claws, and Eyvind watched Somerled come out of the hut, his face impassive, though the eyes were bright.
    â€œWhat did she tell you?” Eyvind asked as they made their way homeward down the rocky hillside. He could not tell Somerled he had overheard; there had been certain things said that were surely not for his ears.
    â€œWhat I expected,” Somerled said. “That I will be a man of power and influence. Not here, but somewhere far away. I am well pleased. The old woman speaks true. What did she tell you?”
    But Eyvind did not reply, for he was thinking. He went over in his head the seer’s words to Somerled. They had been carefully chosen, no doubt of that. But they had seemed to him somewhat less certain than Somerled believed. Still, Somerled was never wrong, and he himself did tend to muddle things sometimes. He decided to say nothing about it.
    â€œEyvind?”
    â€œOh. She told me I will be a Wolfskin, and soon. She seemed quite sure.”
    Somerled lifted his brows. “Everyone knows that,” he said dryly. “It’s written all over you. If every fortune were as easy to tell as yours, my friend, we’d all be seers.”
    They did not speak farther of these matters. But as they came down the steep slopes above the forest, Eyvind’s mind was still turning over what each of them had been told and what it might mean, and perhaps that was why the accident happened. He had always been a careful hunter. He looked after his weapons well and used them correctly; he observed rules for his own safety and taught them to those who went with him after boar or deer. When he hurt himself, which was not often, he knew what to do about it. They were still close to the northern limits of Hammarsby land, nearly a half-day’s walk from the longhouse, but well down the mountainside from the seer’s hut. This was a place where few men passed, a track through the forest known only to the most persistent of hunters. It was a quick way down, but difficult. The ledge they traversed was narrow, with a long drop on one side and a rock wall on the other. Eyvind went ahead, Somerled followed a few steps behind. It was extremely cold; one would not have believed it could still be summer, for even here, in the shelter of the great trees, the air cut like a knife. Above them the dark tops of tall pines blocked out the sunlight, leaving them in a deep world of shadowed gray-green.
    It was quick. One instant Eyvind was moving with surefooted confidence along the ledge, the next the ground had crumbled under his feet and he was falling, helpless to stop himself, the tree branches dancingcrazily above him, the air whistling chill around him, and with a sickening crunch he hit the earth far below the ledge. For a moment all went dark; he drew a single shuddering breath, and then there was the pain, savage, spearing pain through his thigh, and he ground his teeth hard together so as not to scream. Dimly he registered the frantic, scrabbling sounds of Somerled’s rapid descent down the hill to his side, the gasp of the other boy’s breathing. Don’t scream , Eyvind ordered himself. Thor watches you. It is a test . He opened his