“Who is it?” Hild asked the question they were all thinking.
“Ugly fellow isn’t he?” said a voice at their backs, making them all jump. It was Raedann the tinker, who had crept up right behind them.
“Merciful Woden, Raedann, you scared us half to death!” Ellette said.
“Sorry about that, but I saw you from the road and thought I would see what you were up to.”
“We are watching that fellow at the moment,” Anna pointed. “Do you know who he is?” As Raedann looked where she pointed, she slipped the horn back into her pouch hoping he had not noticed it, but she could not be certain.
“Him, oh he is Gurdrunn. I see him from time to time. He lives over in the hills to the west,” Raedann said, then frowned and squinted towards the little man. “Odd thing is, you don’t see him out much. He and his kind are not much interested in the affairs of men, you see.”
Anna turned to stare at Raedann. “What do you mean ‘his kind’? Is he Welsh or Irish or something like that?”
Raedann laughed. “Indeed not. He comes from much further away than that. Beyond the bounds of Midgard.”
“Outside Midgard! You mean he is not human, not from Earth?”
“No, he is from Nidarvellir.”
Wilburh gasped, but the other children looked confused.
“Where is that?” Ellette asked, her eyes now wide with the excitement she always felt when listening to Raedann’s tales.
“Nidarvellir? Have I never told you? Well, it’s the world of the dweorgs, little one: Gurdrunn is a dwarf.”