Free Heroes of the Valley by Jonathan Stroud Page B

blotchy-skinned, still evidently recovering from sickness. He arrived at Halli, looked at him, and paused. Halli tensed and cleared his throat. He waited for the explosive fury, the accusations . . . Instead, Ragnar's eyes betrayed first boredom, then a certain faint perplexity. He looked Halli up and down; he frowned . . . He seemed like a person waking from a dream, struggling to recall its details . . . Then he shrugged, shook his head minutely, nodded blankly to Halli and headed for the ale cups.
    Halli was still gazing after him in astonishment when more guests came prancing down the line. Here was Ulfar Arnesson, the mediator, a slight man, grey of hair and beard, with darting, sparkling eyes. He clasped everyone's hands with generous urgency, as if by doing so he saved them from a nasty fall. Quiet, in his wake, came a slim, attractive girl plainly dressed in a clean plum kirtle, her pale hair drawn back and ornately braided. She walked straight-backed down the line, nodding politely. Halli noticed Leif and Gudny staring after her.
    The corners of Aud's mouth flickered as she passed him and her eyes gleamed bright. Then Eyjolf and his helpers came scurrying in with piled platters and the line dissolved to the table.
    To begin with, the feast went well. They dined on goose and duck, brought steaming from the kitchen, together with salmon caught in the Deepdale streams, onion sauces, vegetables and salad. Beer flowed freely from the cask and conversation was light and inconsequential. Seating was in order of precedence, so Halli found himself wedged at the far end, among the plates of scraps. If Gudrun the goat-girl had been present, she might have been positioned further out, but it would have been a marginal decision.
    To Halli's relief and satisfaction he was seated far from Ragnar and close to Aud. With fleeting, furtive glances he noted the grace of her movements, the delicacy with which she ate. She bore scant resemblance to the tousled, leaf-stained girl he had met in the orchard, except for the amusement in her eyes when she looked his way. He leaned close. 'I'm glad you had none of the ale.'
    'I smelled it. Only a fool would have drunk it.' She grinned pleasingly at him.
    'The strangest thing,' Halli whispered, 'is that Ragnar hasn't recognized me. I can't understand it!'
    She tore a strip of goose from a bone. ' That's easily explained. When you met him, you wore servant's clothes. He would have looked straight through you, if at all. Now that you're in a Founder's colours and so an approximate equal, he deigns to look at you. Simple. For him it is as if it is the first time.'
    Halli shook his head. 'I am glad I am not so blind.'
    The meal progressed. Halli's suspicions about Hord Hakonsson were immediately confirmed: he had a prodigious capacity for the joys of table. He talked and ate and drank unceasingly, tossing bones upon the floor with one hand while the other waved his empty cup for filling.
    It was a different matter with Olaf, who was far more slight, with a frame that was almost womanish and no fine belly on him. Where his brother feasted like a bear, Olaf picked at his plate fastidiously, in the manner of some drab bird, toying with each morsel for so long that Halli became mesmerized and had to drink deep from his beer cup to forget it. He did not think him an impressive guest. But Olaf 's eyes were quick and never still, and he spoke pleasant things to Halli's brother in an undertone, so that Leif laughed foolishly and choked upon his goose.
    To Halli's disgust, his mother spent a good deal of time talking with Ragnar, as if he were a person of great consequence. His mood worsened further when he noticed that Ragnar's responses, far from making her bored or impatient as he would have assumed, provoked her regularly to peals of laughter.
    Arnkel spoke politely with Hord and Ulfar. Brodir sat at the end of the table, next to Halli. He didn't have much to say at all.
    The spit-roasted pig was brought