The Adventures of Cat Skard Read online

  Contents

  Front Matter

  Title Page

  Publisher Information

  Acknowledgements

  The Adventures Of Cat Skard

  In the Beginning

  Speaking Stones

  The Althing

  A Giant Story

  The First Talisman

  The Mighty Thor

  The Dark Ones

  Cat Skard

  Jormungander

  Sigurd

  The Journey to Hel

  Persuasion

  The Dragon Slayer

  Homeward Bound

  Back Matter

  Also Available

  Front Matter

  Title Page

  THE ADVENTURES OF CAT SKARD

  PART 1

  Sigurd the Dragon Slayer

  by

  Joan Hart

  Publisher Information

  First published in Great Britain in 2015 by

  Arthur H. Stockwell Ltd

  Torrs Park, Ilfracombe

  Devon, EX34 8BA

  www.ahstockwell.co.uk

  Digital edition converted and distributed by

  Andrews UK Limited

  www.andrewsuk.com

  © 2015 Joan Hart

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright holder.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  Kathleen Fischer and Thomas Hart

  SPCK Book of Common Prayer 1995

  Society for promoting Christian Knowledge

  by permission of SPCK.

  Page 45–6 Adaptation of prayer.

  The Adventures Of Cat Skard

  In the Beginning

  Blood!

  She watched fascinated as the warm liquid dripped onto her arm. Looking up she saw the bloodied body of a Viking warrior falling slowly towards her, hands open in a gesture of giving.

  “Catriona!”

  The teacher gazed steadily at Cat, her piercing blue eyes settling the class in an instant. Even Amanda, one of Cat’s best friends, fell silent.

  Amanda, Cat and Sharon had been together since playgroup days. Amanda with her short ginger hair, emerald green eyes and fiery nature; Sharon, long brown curly hair tumbling around her shoulders, trendy specs giving a wise look to her face and a strong will; and Cat, fair straight hair cut in a bob, eyes the colour of sapphires and a caring, sensitive nature. Three individuals who, as toddlers, had become best friends and who had stuck together through thick and thin.

  The trio sat, as always, in the middle of the class. “That way,” Cat had said early on in their first year, “the teachers look at the people in front of you or at the back of you and ask them the questions first.” Both Sharon and Amanda had deferred to this – after all, Cat’s parents were both teachers so she should know.

  “Glad to have you back with us Catriona. Perhaps you should go to bed earlier if you are so tired Harry can you tell Catriona what have we covered so far?”

  The class turned as one, giving looks of sympathy to the hapless Harry who sat on the back row.

  “We talked about where the Vikings came from, Miss, and where they went in Britain. About the bits they’ve added to the names of some of our towns and how we use some their words.”

  “Did you get that Catriona?”

  “Yes Miss. Sorry miss.” Cat wasn’t that sorry but it tended to stop Mrs Cosyner going on and on.

  “OK. For the second part of the lesson we will be looking into Viking Sagas. A Saga was predominantly about a man’s world, although Skards or storytellers many of whom were female did the telling of them. Brave deeds were recorded by carving pictures and letters called ‘Runes’. Everything else was handed down verbally. Many of the stories have over the years become changed from the real events... just think about playing ‘Chinese Whispers’. Because the ‘magic’ storytelling and history was lost, those reading them found them boring; consequently many children don’t believe in these legends and stories anymore.

  But to give you a chance to find out about sagas and sayings and to improve your research skills I want you to work in two’s or three’s to see if you can find any truth in these stories. Do not be fooled this will be difficult.”

  The class immediately began to shuffle towards preferred partners.

  “Wait for it!” The shuffling stopped. “I will divide you.”

  Mrs Cosyner began the process. She got to the three girls.

  “I suppose you can stay together this time. Now, I have a pack of note cards. Each card has the name of a Saga or Saying. One person from the group will pick a card. You will not swap! That will be your research subject. You have this double lesson and your homework to do this.”

  Mrs Cosyner moved the cards about in front of her, face down like playing cards. She held them out in front of the three girls.

  “Catriona.”

  Cat gazed intently at the cards, then put her hand out and wriggled one from the pack. Mrs Cosyner moved on. Cat turned the card over and placed it face up on the table.

  SIGURD THE DRAGON SLAYER

  Amanda dug her in the ribs. “Yes! Blood and guts. This is going to be a good one.”

  They became aware of Mrs Cosyner again.

  “This project will mean that you will have to work well with one another. Besides writing your research up for homework you will also present your findings in class. Any questions?”

  A few minutes passed.

  “No more questions? Right. You have the rest of this lesson to begin your research. Make the most of your time here – resources may be scarce in your local library with so many of you looking. You can also use the computers. I have a list of sites that may be useful on my table. Away you go and keep the noise down!”

  Cat picked up rough book and pencil.

  “I’ll go on the computer and see what I can find,” she said.

  Cat moved to her favourite machine which was partly tucked away behind a screen. She typed in the site information and a reassuring hum told Cat her search was on.

  Cat scrolled through the list of contents until she came upon ‘Feasting and Storytelling’. The screen went dark. After a couple of seconds, Cat began to make out a central room with huge, round shields hanging on the walls. The shields were sectioned in colours: red, blue, white and ochre, with huge iron knobs in the middle. As her eyes became accustomed to the gloomy screen she began to make out faces; men, women and children sat leaning against the walls.

  Cat tried to imagine what it must have been like to live back in Viking times. No central heating, no computer, no TV, no mobile phone, no Mum’s deep pan pizza! It was then that she realized she had been scrolling on too far and she now had the picture of a cauldron hanging from the roof beam over the fire. She could see it was full of stew. Cat felt hungry. She scrolled back to the main screen and pulled her chair closer to the monitor.

  A bowl of stew was pressed into her hand along with a wooden spoon, a little of the stew slopping onto her wrist as the knee she was leaning against moved. Cat looked around to see the offending knee clothed
in rough woollen trousers rise and disappear into the gloom; the space being filled by a young boy about a year younger than Cat. His trousers were striped, covered by a woollen tunic with an embroidered collar. As Cat’s eyes travelled upwards they met a pair of intelligent ice-blue eyes and a mass of fair hair.

  “When we’ve eaten we’ll go to the byre, it’s quieter there.”

  Cat set her bowl down on her legs and pinched her arm. It hurt. Well, that sorted that, she wasn’t dreaming! What she was, she decided, was hungry, so she set to in silence until she had finished the lovely smelling stew.

  The boy rose pulling Cat up with one hand he moved off and Cat followed keeping close to the boy as her eyes had still not become totally accustomed to the smoky darkness. They passed through the main hall, dodging this way and that to avoid the crowds of people still eating, until they came to the byre which housed the animals. Pushing the cow’s horns away, the pair shuffled to the far end of the byre. Once there they sat on the bank of earth, the cattle milling around in front of them so that they couldn’t be seen.

  “Good. Even the Thralls can’t see us now.”

  “Thralls? What are they?” Cat looked around nervously.

  “They’re the main slave workers around here. They gossip a lot. You were served by one – that boy with very short hair and a long white tunic.”

  A vague picture sprung into Cat’s mind, disappearing as suddenly as it came when she realized she was being intently scrutinized.

  “Well?”

  The boy smiled. “I think I’d better explain.”

  “Yes, I think you’d better.”

  The words sounded braver than Cat felt, but she was determined not to let the boy see that.

  “My name is Kiert and you are here because we need your magic skills to help us in our quest.”

  Cat laughed. She couldn’t help herself. Magic skills? If she had magic skills she would have no problems with her maths homework and she’d always get good marks for Mrs Cosyner.

  “Let’s get this straight. You are a Viking boy wanting help from a girl?!”

  “This must be really strange for you, and I am not very good with words; unlike you who read and write poetry and talk to spirits. I am a good warrior but cannot tell a good tale. But come, I need you to meet someone.”

  He took her hand and steered her back again into the long room. The meal had finished; everyone had moved nearer the fire and was intently looking at the man who sat in front of them. Kiert and Cat sat together on the floor each leaning against a set of knees, the flames of the fire warming their faces. The man began to speak, leaning forward on one knee as he did so. His voice was deep and dark, and it seemed to Cat to echo the dread deeds of the story he told.

  “Once there was a dwarf called ‘Andvari’. Now Andvari owned a hoard of treasure but lost it to the fire god Loki. This story began when, on an expedition to Midgard, the land of men, Loki killed a sleeping otter. He offered the otter to a farmer in return for a bed for the night. The farmer accepted it and began to wash it ready for supper. But while he was preparing it the otter meat began to change shape. To the horror of the farmer, the otter turned out to be none other than his son, magically disguised. Angrily,the farmer rushed after Loki, knife raised in order to revenge his son.

  After much fighting, the farmer finally settled on a price for his son’s death; enough gold to cover the otter’s skin inside and out. But the otter skin was magic and it could be stretched to a great size, so no ordinary amount of gold could cover it. Loki didn’t have enough gold so the farmer allowed Loki to seek more treasure.

  Loki’s travels finally brought him to a maze of dripping tunnels and an underground lake. He saw lurking in the shallows a large Pike. Quietly he put his hands into the water and in one quick movement flipped the fish onto dry land. But this fish, like the otter before, turned out to be more than it first seemed. For in fact it was the dwarf Andvari.

  Loki threatened Andvari with such terrible things that he surrendered all his huge hoard of gold, including his magic gold ring. But in his anger the dwarf laid a terrible curse on the ring. When Loki returned to the farm with the gold the curse passed on to the farmer. The farmer was killed soon after by his son. Loki ran away with the cursed treasure, and over time was turned into a huge dragon.”

  Up until then Cat had, with the warmth of the fire, dozed while the velvety voice in the background spun its magic. However, at the mention of a dragon she became fully alert.

  “What happened to the valuable treasure? Where did he keep it?”

  A chorus of “Shhhhhhh” came from the adults around the room. The storyteller smiled.

  “A true Viking woman in charge of the family valuables, wanting to keep them under lock and key!”

  The longhouse erupted into laughter; Kiert looking admiringly at Cat, who turned a healthy pink colour. The storyteller continued to look at Cat for some time. Slowly he slipped a ring off his little finger and pressed it into the palm of Cat’s hand along with a small piece of irregular shaped amber.

  “Welcome Cat. You are named ‘Cat Skard’ and you will become a famous storyteller and poet and help our fathers.”

  Cat looked down at the ring and amber in her hand; then, remembering her manners, she looked up in order to thank the storyteller. But he had been whisked away and was deep in conversation with the men of the house. She looked again at the ring, and then showed it to Kiert. The band was completely plain but the top formed a flat circle with straight and diagonal lines around it. Kiert pointed to the diagonal lines.

  “Those lines are runes – they’re our alphabet. If you understand them they can help you win battles, break chains, cure illnesses and guard against evil.”

  “That’ll really help in our quest for Sigurd,” Cat murmured.

  “Yeah, that’s what we thought.” Amanda closed the book with a bang, which made Cat jump. The bell rang signalling the end of afternoon school.

  “We’ve got the books signed out, you’ve got the printouts. We’ve got maths homework tonight, so how about working on this tomorrow?”

  Two arms linked into hers and they left the classroom together, the two friends guiding a still-dazed Cat towards home.

  Speaking Stones

  “Hi, I’m back!”

  Cat gave the usual greeting as she walked through the front door. A saucepan symphony from the kitchen indicated dinner was almost ready. She patted the shaggy head of Kelly Dog, the only greeter in the hall, and, leaving shoes and coat, climbed the stairs to her room. There she threw herself and her bag onto the bed. What a weird happening. Had she drifted off in front of the computer or had all that stuff really happened? It was then she remembered the ring and amber. She tipped her bag out on the bed. Books, pencil case, lunch box and papers cascaded down. Cat shook the bag and peered inside. Nothing. Each book was flipped through. Nothing. The pencil case was tipped out, shavings floating over the duvet, but no ring or amber. That was it then, just her imagination.

  “Dinner’s ready!”

  Cat rose and plodded downstairs. Ben, her elder brother and Dad were already sitting down, Kelly Dog between them, eyes glued to the table surface and tongue dripping with anticipation. Cat sat down and looked at the meal in front of her. Stew!! While they ate, the kind of day they’d all had was discussed.

  “Catriona, you feeling alright?”

  “Sorry Mum, what?”

  “You haven’t eaten much of your dinner. Are you feeling OK?”

  “Yes, but I’m not that hungry.”

  “You’ve been raiding that tuck shop again, haven’t you. I’ve told you about that before... ”

  Cat tuned out. Give it a few minutes and Mum would finish her sermon.

  “Well, if you don’t want anymore, you’d better go and do your homework.”

  Cat rose
jostling with her brother as they both made their way out of the room.

  “Ben, you come back here,” warned Cat’s mum. “It’s your turn to wipe up, your sister did it yesterday.”

  Cat headed towards her room, the sounds of moans and protests getting fainter as doors closed behind her complaining brother. She smiled. Ben was always complaining. Life, according to him, wasn’t fair. Cat got away with murder, according to him, and why did he have to help wipe up if none of his friends did?

  With her bedroom door closed things became more peaceful. Cat collected the mess from her bed and piled it all on the table. She put the spotlight on and, unable to put off the moment any longer, picked up her maths homework book. She turned to the front first and gazed at the examples done in class. Jumbled numbers stared insolently back at her. Steeling herself, she concentrated hard. Fifteen minutes of low mutterings later, Cat turned to the back of the book in order to make a reluctant start on the homework questions... and there, as though glued to the page lay the ring and her piece of amber. She picked the ring up from the paper. It felt warm to the touch – nothing like the coldness of normal jewellery. Slowly she turned the ring round. Somehow it looked smaller than before; in fact it now looked as though it would fit her finger. She studied her hands and then pushed the ring slowly onto the third finger of her right hand. She held the hand up into the spotlight, gazing at the ring from all angles. It felt very comfortable there. Of course it couldn’t remain on her finger, school rules were strict about such things and she didn’t want to get cross-examined by her family, especially Dad; but for the moment...

  She turned her attention back to her homework. Why, those maths problems were easy; the method of working the examples came to her in a flash and in great excitement Cat completed the lot in double quick time. She shut her book with a satisfying bang, realizing at the same time that she had a big grin on her face. Cool – she wasn’t that dumb at maths after all! Her eyes travelled once again to her right hand. The spotlight was doing its job of highlighting the carved lines, making them stand proud of the ring’s surface. Something made Cat feel these lines were important and that she had to find out what they meant.