The Yule Lads Diarys Pt 4

December 15th- Þvörusleikir

What small victory we had last night was squashed the next day.

Arnar woke me up that morning to let me know that another sheep was missing.

"One of Gertrude's three lambs. She is beside herself with grief," he said, and I could tell that the old farmer was as distraught as his ewe.

"The cows are hurt again too. Both Rjóma and Mjólk are injured, and their udders are so bruised that I don't dare touch them. Doesn't matter anyway; their milk was gone when I arrived."

I shook my head, "This isn't normal behavior from the Lads." I said, remembering last year and wishing I had paid more attention. The last few years had seen sheep and milk and things missing, but never quite to this amount. I had never actually believed in the Yule Lads, no more than I had believed in Father Christmas since I was small, but now that I had seen them, it was harder to deny they existed.

Arnar nodded, "They take a sheep sometimes, they take some milk, but this is not their usual trickery. Something is different this year, and I don't like it. Did you have any trouble last night?"

I nodded, "Grindle and I scared them off, though."

Arnar snorted, "I still can't believe you got some use out of that angry thing."

"He seems to like Davin. He's the only one I've ever seen who got to pet him without scratches."

Arnar smiled, "Then your brother is more than welcome to him, my Yule gift to him."

I smiled, but Anar laughed as he saw my trepidation, “Thanks so much.”

“He’s an angry one, to be certain, but he’s a better mouser than any. He caught ten fat rats in the barn on his own just last week. He’ll be a good pet, once he’s used to ye, of course.”

He asked me if I would stay with the sheep that night, and I agreed that I would, confident in our new guardian and his ability to protect the house.

That night, Grendel's skills would be put to the test.

I came back inside and started making inroads on lunch, thinking that sandwiches might be the way to go. I remembered too late that Olf had raided my pantry before Stufur could, and made a list of things I would need at the store. Davin came out about that time, rubbing his eyes and holding his new shadow. Grindel looked at me like I was the stupidest thing he’d ever seen, but he didn’t hiss at me. When I reached to pet him, he swiped at me, but his claws were in and the swipe was lame. We were brothers in battle now, I supposed, but he still didn’t care much for me.

“Good morning,” He yawned, “Any plans today?”

“I’ve got to work tonight. Did Olf have any chores for you?”

“He said something about fixing a chicken coop this afternoon, but told me I didn’t have to come around till after lunch.”

“Sounds like you’ve got time to go shopping with me then, but let's get some breakfast first.”

I opened the pot cabinet and grimaced when I saw that several of my pans were missing.

I glowered at Grindel, seeing that Stufur had been back after our little skirmish.

The cat seemed to shrug as if to say, “Well, I had to sleep sometime.”

I didn't have more than a couple to start with, so the loss was felt pretty widely when I couldn't make eggs and bacon without using the only pan I had left. It was big enough to cook half a chicken, and as I set it on the stove, I opened the utensil drawer to get the spatula. I pulled my hand back in disgust as I came down on something slimy on the top spoon, and shook the thick coating of slime as Davin chuckled to himself.

It had been covered in what felt like spit.

I washed it, clearly feeling the presence of Spoon Licker's short appearance last night too. A few of my ladles also bore the shiny skean of having been licked, but I doubted the little scamp got much more than dust off them. Olf often tells me how terrible English Cooking is, so I'm careful not to make it worse with badly cleaned utensils. I cooked the bacon and eggs together, crisping them nicely as I added some of the hard bread I’d gotten from Sigrun yesterday. It soaked up the grease, and we ate our little meal before I headed out to the market. I gave him a little money and told him we were going to buy some Christmas gifts while we were at it. He perked up, smiling as he took the role of bills. Davin was excited by the idea of finally having someone to buy presents for and money to buy them with, and we had a morning picking out gifts for Olf, Arnar, and Sigrun. I picked up a few things for some of the other hands and a few little things for Davin too. It was his first Christmas, and I wanted to make it as memorable as possible. I also got him a very special gift for that night, something for my piece of mind as much as his.

When I prepared to go that night, I gave him his early Christmas present and watched him grin from ear to ear.

"Now it's only for emergencies, and it won't make international calls if you were thinking of calling home. But it will let you surf the web a bit, and it will reach me in the sheep shed if there's an emergency."

He smiled at me as he slid the new cell phone into his pocket, "Thank you, I promise not to abuse it."

I ruffled his hair and grinned, "I'll be close by if you need me." and looked down at Grindle who was warming Davin’s legs. He seemed to nod at me, letting me know that he would keep an eye out, and I nodded back before setting off for the sheep shed. I didn’t like leaving Davin alone, not with the house so active lately, but I could hardly turn down the work, and Davin might have to get used to a certain amount of independence here.

Olf met me outside the shed, a lumpy package under his arm.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, handing me the bag.

"You want your Da's cows protected, yeah?"

He looked unsure, "The thing is, frændi. No one, to my knowledge, has ever attacked one of the Lads before. They're not like burglars or cow thieves that you can just run off with a warning shot. They're of the other world."

"Grindle ran two off last night. I don't see why a shot in the dark wouldn't do for this one."

Olf looked uncomfortable, "People who mess with the Other World, the faerie world, never come out ahead. The Lads take some, not usually this much, but some, and then they go. They leave us gifts for what they took, and we always have enough to give. Did you ask Da if he was okay with this?"

I unzipped the bag and took out a hunting rifle and a little pouch of bullets. It was nothing special, a small bolt action rifle, but these weren't large creatures we were talking about. I assumed that the bullets had trace amounts of iron in them, iron being historically poisonous to creatures of Fae, so maybe this could work. If nothing else, it might dissuade them from coming back again and save us some nights of headache.

"No, but he told me to guard the sheep and the cows. I'm just doing what he told me to do."

"Be VERY careful with that thing. You don't have a gun license, and if someone gets hurt, Da will be to blame."

"I'll be careful, now get back inside before you freeze." I chuckled, throwing the bag over my shoulder.

He shook his head, "Good hunting." and stomped back towards the longhouse.

I settled myself near the door to the sheep shed and kept an eye on the cowshed. I would have preferred to nestle myself amidst the sheep, taking advantage of their collective warmth, but I needed a clear view to the shed so I could see the little bastard making his way in. I laid the rifle across my lap, sipping at the coffee I had brought in a thermos and waiting for my prey to arrive.

Gertrude was nowhere to be seen tonight. Arnar had moved her into the house after the second lamb had gone missing, and now she would be spending the holiday inside. She was likely curled up with the cats by the fire while I was freezing my bollocks off out here with the door open. The sheep had moved away a bit, not liking the cold, and I was left leaning against the wall by myself. The night seemed to stretch on forever as I sat with the cold wind keeping me awake. I checked my phone a few times to make sure Davin hadn't called, but the Lads must have kept away tonight because I never heard from him. The sheep bleated angrily a few times as the wind whistled in briskly, but I just pulled my muffler up over my face and kept my vigil.

Near four am, I heard the phone go off, and it roused me from a doze.

It was Davin, and I fumbled my glove off so I could answer it.

"Davin? Is everything o..."

"You need to get back home. There's something in the kitchen."

He was whispering, and I could hear Grindle hissing angrily.

"Is Grindle with you?"

"Yes, he wants to get out real bad, though. I peaked and could see four of them out there."

"Four? Not five?"

That's when I saw the small shadow making its way across the yard.

"I'll be there in a minute Davin, I need to do something real quick."

"But..." but I hung up on him.

If I could hit this one, maybe the rest would leave on their own.

By this point, the moon large and yellow, I could make out the pointed hat and the chunky sweater that they all seemed to wear. I would have worried that it was a child or something if it weren't out in the middle of the night in near-freezing conditions. I took aim, seeing the ugly thing as I put him between my crosshairs. I could still remember his milk mustache, his lumpy face that grinned with no particular fear when caught, and led him a little as I prepared to fire. I had gone shooting with Arnar and Olf more than once, and I was a fair shot with the comfortable old rifle.

Suddenly, he stopped and turned to look directly at me. You would have said that was impossible, I was fifty feet away and nearly buried in a snow drift, but he looked at me. Even across the distance, I could feel those hateful eyes as they bore into me. It froze me, just as it had in the cow shed that night. The look, though I couldn’t have seen it, seemed to communicate easily his disdain for me. “What will you do, man thing?” it seemed to challenge, “You have no power here. You cannot hope to stand against the Lads. I bet you wont even pull that trigger.”

He started to move again, and though I felt as if my bones had turned to ice, I squeezed the trigger as I attempted to recapture my tenuous manhood.

My shot cracked out across the silent yard, and I heard the sheep and the cows raise a ruckus as their world was filled with sound.

I was off at once, crunching through the snow and running to the spot where I'd seen the little imp fall. I didn't actually believe I had killed it. I didn't honestly think it could be killed, but I wanted to see if it had left anything behind. Some hair may be, or blood, or anything that would prove I had actually hit it. When I came to the spot, I heard people raising a ruckus in the longhouse and seemed nearly as loud as the cows.

When I got to the spot, I saw three things sitting in the divet it had left in the snow.

A long piece of red string, a small amount of blackish blood, and a potato.

I had picked up the potato and looked at the odd withered thing when I heard footsteps crunching up towards me. I turned, rifle still in hand, to find Arnar and Olf, as well as three other farmhands, coming towards me. Arnar sucked in a breath when he saw the potato, and I heard him say something guttural when he noticed the blood. Olf looked at his father, shocked, but he too seemed to be unsettled by the withered old root in my hand.

Arnar reached for the rifle, "Give me my gun, boy. I can't believe you have done this thing with my own weapon."

I was speechless for a few seconds as he snatched the rifle from my shaking hands, "Done what? I saw him coming back to hurt your cows. I stopped him."

"You stopped NOTHING!" Arnar yelled, "You have only given them a more exclusive target. You have interrupted their holiday business, and now you will have to pay the price. I'm... I'm sorry." he said, shaking his head and walking back towards the house.

"What does that mean?" I asked him, but he only kept walking, the farmhands in tow.

I looked at Olf, "What does that mean?"

Olf shook his head, "It means that you shouldn't have messed with creatures of Fae. I told you this was a bad idea, frændi."

The chill in my blood had nothing to do with the biting wind, "Is he going to send me away, Olf?"

Olf shook his head, "He thinks of you as a son. He would never send you off, especially now that you have a mouth to feed. I think, though, that it might be best for you to take a few days off. Once the Yule Lads are gone, you can come back to work. Until then...you might have your hands full; too full for work, I should think."

He tromped back to the house, leaving me in the snow to contemplate what I had done.