Northern Frights by Arthur Slade

Author:Arthur Slade
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dava Enterprises
Published: 2012-01-26T06:00:00+00:00

16.

"Come this way." Dad led us into the one longhouse which still had its roof intact. We stopped a few feet inside the door. Gray light filtered through cracks in the wall, revealing a cobwebbed interior and a dirt floor. Another door, half disintegrated, was open at the far end. Two walls, which used to separate different parts of the building, were now collapsed.

"There ... it's a bit warmer in here," Dad said, then carried on like a teacher who'd been interrupted half-way through a lesson. "Whether the Mórar were here or not is a moot point. It'd take a team of archeologists to prove that. But the Icelandic settlers believed the Mórar ghosts were here. And that was enough to make them leave. I have no idea why Olavr chose to stay." Dad paused. "He was quite the man though. He lived on Drang until his death in 1947." Then Dad turned to me and said, "You've already met his son."

"I have?"

"Yeah. Harbard. Olavr married at an old age. Longevity was one of his family's traits."

I found it hard to imagine Harbard having a father. Had he been just as grumpy as Harbard? Thinking of his dead father reminded me of the cairns. "Did Harbard mention the burial mounds?"

"Mounds? Where?" Dad asked.

I told him. Then decided I should tell him about the dead goat, too. He listened intently. "The cairns must be quite old," he said when I was finished. "The settlers wouldn't have built them; they buried their dead in the sea because they feared their bodies would fall under the control of the Mórar. And I don't think the natives would've built mounds like that. I have no idea what the goat thing is all about. No idea at all. It does make me wonder about the runes on that stone out there and why it's been stained red, almost like it was part of some ceremony. Sure am curious about who dug up the stone in the first place." He paused and I saw the worry on his face. He glanced at his watch. "It's almost supper time. We should head for home." Then he looked at Fiona. "Were your parents expecting you to be away this long?"

"Well ... " Fiona started. She cleared her throat. "To tell you the truth, they actually don't know I'm even here."

It took a moment for the words to register with Dad. "What do you mean?"

"We had a misunderstanding. I kinda slipped away from home and came to Drang on my own."

"You've been here for almost two whole days? Won't they be sick with worry?"

Fiona couldn't meet his eyes. She looked at the ground, her jaw muscles clenched. "Yeah, probably by now. I guess I was too mad to really care." She fell silent.

No one said anything for a few uncomfortable moments. But I heard something. A familiar sound was beginning to register in my brain.

Footsteps. Outside. Soft, determined footsteps.

"Close the doors," I whispered.

"What?" said Fiona.

"Close the doors!" I yelled. I ran to the front of the house.

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