Free Heroes of the Valley by Jonathan Stroud

took a horseshoe from Halli's arm and tossed it to spin elegantly round the stick. 'I have taken the advice of Ulfar Arnesson, a well-known mediator of such troubles. He suggests a Friendship Feast held for the Hakonssons after the Gathering. Inevitably he intends to participate. Ulfar likes his food. Well, I must return below.'
    The thought of Ragnar Hakonsson coming to the hall gave Halli a gnawing worm of anxiety. At least he, Halli, would be elsewhere. A thought occurred to him. 'Father, will Ulfar bring his daughter to the feast?'
    'His daughter?' Arnkel frowned. 'Is she a somewhat slatternly girl, with dirty kirtle and hair tied back without a jot of care? I thought her a servant of some kind. Then, yes – I presume she will attend. As will you.'
    Halli gave a jump. 'But I am banned! Father – this is not a good idea!'
    'The Gathering will be over then and your punishment complete. You will be a credit to the House, I'm sure. With luck you will entertain young Ragnar Hakonsson – if he recovers from his cramps, that is. He seems to have suffered most of all.'
    Two days later, the Gathering was over, and Halli's restrictions were at an end. He dawdled about the House, observing from afar the dismantling of the tents, the clearing of booths, the loading of carts and horses. Most of guests left that morning, passing in a stream along the road into the valley, but the knot of people at the Hakonsson booth remained. Halli retreated to the hall, where preparations were being made for the Friendship Feast. Beds were prepared for the overnight visitors, trestle tables drawn into the centre of the hall, lanterns lit, bunches of sweet rosemary hung from the rafters and fresh straw strewn upon the floor. Eyjolf and the servants located a cask of beer that had survived the Gathering. Cooks laboured in the kitchens; a pig was killed and placed upon a spit; men returned from the river bearing fish.
    Halli watched all this in agitation, trying to think of an excuse to avoid the feast. He approached his mother with a number of pretexts, but was rebuffed, and in due course found himself with Katla, being inserted at last into his formal clothes.
    His mood was not improved by this outfit, which had once belonged to his brother. The tunic reached almost to his knees, while his leggings sagged beneath his buttocks. Katla did not heed his shrill complaints. Instead, she patted his face gently. 'Halli, Halli, at every opportunity you scowl and knot your brows. Why do you think you aggravate people so? Like midwinter's children everywhere, you spread a cloud of rancour.'
    'I am far less smelly than Leif, whose passing makes the pigs go pale.'
    ' That is not what I meant, though you'll find it is a close-run thing. I speak of another effect you have. From the day you took your first steps on those fat little legs, you have spread division among even the mildest folk. Try to be sweet-natured and innocent of expression! Especially with the Hakonssons, who are notoriously quick to take offence.
    Take care not to scowl at them . Feuds have begun with less.'
    As night fell. Arnkel. Astrid, Leif, Gudny and Halli gathered in the hall, waiting for the guests to arrive. They said little, wandering back and forth, fiddling with knives and dishes laid out on the table.
    Gudny had piled her hair into a tower of intertwining braids; the process had taken her and her maid most of the afternoon. Now she stood making winsome faces into the polished silver dishes. As Halli wandered near, she hailed him anxiously. 'Tell me, brother, do you think my braids are tight enough? Look at these fine hairgrips I bought from a trader at the fair! They are antique – generations old!'
    Halli was waiting with trepidation for Ragnar's arrival and did not wish to indulge his sister. Still, recalling Katla's advice, he bit back a sarcastic remark and arranged his features into an expression of sweet, wide-eyed benevolence.
    His sister flinched. 'If you want to sour the