‘You must not be afraid,’ said my guide. ‘Here is the best view of the place where my story happened. That is why I have brought you here.’
‘We are now’, he continued, ‘close to the coast of Norway, in the area called Lofoden. This mountain is called Helseggen, the Cloudy. Now, stand up and look at the sea.’
I did as he asked. Ten or twelve kilometers away, I could see a small, empty island. The waves crashed against it. About four kilometers closer, there was a smaller island. This was also empty, and it had dark rocks all around it.
‘The far island is called Vurggh by the Norwegians,’ said the old man. ‘The closer one is called Moskoe.’
The water between the two islands looked very unusual. There was a strong wind from the sea, but the waves did not move with the wind. They moved everywhere, quickly and angrily, sometimes against the wind.
