The World and Thorinn
Damon Knight
Portions of this book appeared in a different form in Galaxy , copyright © 1968 by Galaxy Publishing Co., as follows: "TheWorld and Thorinn," April, 1968; "The Garden of Ease," June, 1968; "The Star Below." August, 1968.
This Berkley book contains the complete text of the original hardcover edition.It has been completely reset in a type face designed for easy reading, and was printed from new film.
THE WORLD AND THORINN
A Berkley Book/published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley-Putnam edition published February 1981 Berkley edition/December 1981
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 1980 by Damon Knight.
ISBN: 0-425-05193-5
A BERKLEY BOOK
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
for KATIE, at last, and for our son JONATHAN
1
How Thorinn Goryatson learned he was not the son of his father, and descended into theUnderworld without wishing to do so.
In the days of King Alf there was a house in windy Hovenskar at the hub of the world, where the sky turns round the Pipe of Snorri. The house was of sods, with a stone roof, for no other sort of roof can stand against the winds that blow, this way and that way, over cold Hovenskar as the sky turns.
Now Hovenskar is like a yellow bowl, and from this side of it to that side is three days' journey.Long is the spoon with which the gods eat porridge from that bowl! Northward can be seen the half of Snorri's Pipe, a gray-green column three leagues in thickness, yet so tall that it seems to prick the sky like a needle; and around it the sky swings, half light and half dark. Therefore at high noon there is an eye of darkness peering over the rim of Hovenskar, and at midnight an eye of brightness. And the wind blows from the dark to the light, this way and that way over Hovenskar.
In this unlucky place, in the days of King Alf, lived a man called Goryat and his three sons, who were outlaws driven out of Kjelsland. Goryat and the two elder sons were gray-skinned Lowlanders, four ells tall, with tusks like daggers; but the youngest son was pink as a Highland man, and stood no taller than Goryat's belt-buckle. Though he had a withered leg, he was sturdy and quick, and could jump higher than his own head. Thus he was called Thorinn, which is a kind of flea.
Now it happened on the last day of King Alf (when a roof-tile dashed his brains out) that for thousands of leagues, even unto the land of the Skryllings, the earth became flat where it had formerly risen, and arose where it had been flat. Rivers left their banks, lakes became marshes,the air was one black scream of birds, and everywhere cook-pots rolled out of kitchens, while the cooking-wenches tumbled after.
But of all this the four of Hovenskar knew nothing. They knew only that Snorri's Pipe had begun to roar, with a sound that thrummed in the bones and could not be shut out, though they stopped their ears with their fingers; that their bodies had turned light, as in a dream; that there was an earth-shock that made men and horses dance on the ground like lice on a griddle; and that bits of the sky were falling like frostflakes.
Before they could gather their wits about them, one of the horses, a mare with foal, had broken her leg in the peat bog, and the rest were scattering up the high curve of the valley, from whence it was half a day's work to drive them home again.
Now this was a weighty matter, and it grew weightier still on the second day, when the other four mares went dry. Goryat took the finest of the remaining horses, a stallion of two summers, and sacrificed him to Snorri. But the demon did not leave off roaring: instead, as Goryat finished his prayers, there was a second earth-shock, and from the well nearby came the crack of stonebreaking, and all the water ran away into the Underworld, leaving the well dry as a skull.Then the two elder sons urged their father to leave Hovenskar and fare southward, but the old man, whose hand was still heavy though his mane had turned white as frost, would have none of it. "In all the Midworld there is no safety for me or those of my blood save in Hovenskar," said Goryat to his sons. "Nor may Thorinn leave, for I have sworn by Wit and Bal to keep him." Thus did the two sons learn from their father's lips for the first time, though in truth it was plain to be seen, that Thorinn was no blood brother of theirs.
"But if we sacrifice another horse, we may go empty-bellied through the winter," said Withinga, the eldest son.
"Moreover, it's plain enough that Snorri wants no horses." Thus spoke Untha, the second son. "Ishe the demon of waters, or not? When the horse was offered, he was vexed and broke our well. "
"We must give him something better, " said Withinga.
"Idle is boasting when the hands are empty," Goryat answered. "What, must we fare to Skryllings land and bring back a sacrifice?"
"Not so far as that, " Withinga said. And he pointed his chin toward the hillside, where Thorinn was leading the horses to the spring.
Goryat said then, "Would you make me an oath-breaker? I tell you, I swore to keep the boy until Snorri takes him. "
Untha rose, and pointed to the black mouth of the well. "Then give him to Snorri. "So it was agreed. When Thorinn came down, suspecting nothing, they said to him, "Go into the well, see whether it can be mended." Then when he was in the well, they pulled up the bucket and covered the well-mouth with a great stone, and prayed over it.
The Flea lay upon his back, hands behind his head, the knee of his good leg cocked over the other. His left leg was shorter than the right and had always been so; he could grip a horse with his thighs well enough, but when he was afoot, the bad leg was too feeble to bear his weight for more than a moment, and so he hopped everywhere (though Goryat's sons always said the short leg was good for walking on the hillside, so long as he took care to go withershins).
The blades of yellow grass formed a wall close around him, shielding his body from the wind that rustled overhead. Through half-shut eyes he could see the wavering patch of brightness that was the sky. Drowsy scents of grass and blossoms were in his nostrils, mingled with the faint but pungent smell of horse that clung to his leather garments. He could hear the stiff grass-blades crackling as insects crawled among them; the snort and stamp of the horses farther up the hillside; and, more distantly, the unending drone of Snorri's Pipe.
Deliciously hidden and at ease, more than half asleep, he was daydreaming of distant mountains and brightly-dressed people when a new sound roused him.
He started up on one elbow, listened: there it came again. He pivoted with one hand on the matted grasses, sprang up. Far below, over the thousand moving waves of yellow grass, he could see Goryat's steading in the bright half of the valley—the house with its roof of gray stone and its thread of smoke bent by the wind, the horse-barn, the meathouse, the tanyard, the well, all tiny as pebbles. Near the house a mannikin stood; its mane was only a dot of yellow. The arms were lifted; it shook a fist. After a second the hail came again:... ooorriii... Thorinn waved his arms in answer. The tiny figure gestured with one hand, then turned away. It was already loping slowly toward the house when the sound arrived... ooom doww... They had thought of some other task for him; that was only to be expected. Breathing the keen wind, Thorinn forgot all disappointment as he raised his head. It was mid-morning, and where the tip of the Pipe touched the sky beyond the valley rim, the dome was split by a clean arc that soared high over Thorinn's head, dividing the sky into pale light and greenish darkness. Half the valley below was daylit; the other half lay still in deep night, pricked here and there by the witchfires of fallen sky-stuff. Over in the peat bog, wisps of night mist were rising like ghosts; dew still sparkled in the grass along the daylight edge.