Scramasax by Kevin Crossley-Holland Page B

raised its heavy head until he could breathe right into its nostrils.
    The warhorse snorted. It pulled away a little. But the man stepped forward and again pressed his forehead against the horse’s brow.
    Then he whispered something, Solveig couldn’t hear what, and gently rubbed the horse’s neck.
    The Horseman’s Word, thought Solveig. I’m sure it is, though I don’t know what the words are. Who is he, anyhow?
    Solveig couldn’t help herself – the stench of the horse-stalls caught her by the throat, and she choked and then coughed.
    Quite calmly and slowly, so as not to disturb his horse, the man turned round. His acorn hair all tangled, his face pink and open and eager.
    â€˜Tamas!’ exclaimed Solveig.
    Tamas opened his eyes wide, and gave Solveig an incredulous smile. ‘Solveig!’ he breathed.
    â€˜Harald changed his mind. He said I could come.’
    Tamas put a filthy finger to his lips, but he couldn’t stop smiling.
    â€˜Skarp told me you weren’t even on this boat.’
    â€˜The trickster!’
    â€˜Horse-whispering. Is that what you were doing?’
    â€˜You heard?’
    â€˜Not the words.’
    â€˜They’re between me and him.’
    Solveig nodded. ‘Like a charm.’ She pointed to something sticking out of Tamas’s sleeve. ‘What’s that?’
    â€˜Oh! A bone.’
    â€˜What of?’
    â€˜Not now, Solveig.’
    Solveig spread her arms wide. ‘It’s terrible,’ she said.
    Once more Tamas turned to his horse and laid his forehead against the horse’s brow and rubbed his neck, and Solveig ran her fingers through his silky mane.
    â€˜Is he … ?’ she hesitated.
    â€˜An Arab,’ Tamas told her. ‘All our horses are Arabs.’
    â€˜What’s his name?’
    â€˜Alnath.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜One of the stars.’
    â€˜What does it mean?’
    â€˜The butting one!’
    â€˜It sounds like a mixture of Norwegian and Saracen.’
    â€˜There!’ said Tamas. ‘I’ve settled him now.’
    â€˜Harald told me to hoist them. Lift them and strap them.’
    â€˜On your own!’
    â€˜He said he’d send more men down.’
    â€˜That horse,’ said Tamas, pointing to one whose ears were flat back and who was baring his teeth. ‘Mizer. He’s terrified.’
    Then Solveig and Tamas took hold of the broad strap under Mizer’s girth and, pulling together, they were able to tighten it until he was swinging free, still showing the whites of his eyes but no longer pounding the deck with his hooves.
    Solveig puffed out her cheeks and noisily blew out her breath.
    â€˜Tough work,’ agreed Tamas.
    â€˜We need help.’
    â€˜Much more.’
    â€˜Harald said he’d send men down.’
    â€˜I’m here to go and get them. There are twenty-four horses here. All this … rumpus! This havoc! Before long, the other horses will upset Alnath again.’
    â€˜I’ll come with you,’ Solveig said.
    Tamas led the way to the deck-hatch.
    â€˜I had to jump down,’ Solveig told him.
    â€˜Me too. I don’t know where the ladder’s gone. Stand on my shoulders.’
    Oh! Despite the stench and the squalor and the suffering horses, Solveig was feeling so light-hearted.
    â€˜Skarp said you weren’t even on this boat,’ she told Tamas for a second time, ‘and my father said he hoped we hadn’t left you behind.’
    â€˜Left me!’
    â€˜Searching.’
    â€˜What for?’
    Solveig drew back a little. Her eyes were dancing. ‘Don’t you know?’ she teased him, and with both hands she grasped the lapels of her cloak.
    â€˜Ohh!’ exclaimed Tamas.
    â€˜My father and Snorri found it in the guardroom. They wrapped me in it, and put a helmet on my head so they could … spirit me out of the palace.’
    â€˜We’ll have to cut it in