Nemesis

by Margit Sandemo

  “Let’s get out of here,” said Molly with a trembling voice.

  “Yes,” said the bailiff. “We must try to bolt the door to this place until my men and I have examined everything more closely. In the meantime, we’ll visit New Askinge.”

  He sounded ominous. Cecilie felt enormously relieved now that the bailiff seemed to shift his focus towards someone other than her beloved son.

  Both she and Alexander knew that Tancred could never have gone through with it even under the influence of drugs. However, it might prove difficult to convince others of that.

  Molly showed them a different route back, along the main road from the ruined castle. It was the path that Tancred had discerned that night. But Molly was now looking so ill that Cecilie said, “Would it be alright if I take Molly home and put her to bed? She must nurse her heavy cold.”

  The men agreed and Molly showed them the path that would lead them straight to Askinge.

  She and Cecilie rode back the same way they had come. Tancred waved them goodbye. He was dejected now, having cut such a miserable figure the whole time. He wanted to be a kind of hero in Molly’s opinion, but that was just about the last thing he had been in recent days.

  The three men rode through beautiful groves of oak trees on their way to Askinge. They did not say much to one another – their thoughts were far too much in a turmoil for that.

  If Tancred had not killed the Duchess, then who had?

  Somebody must have installed her at Old Askinge to spend some quiet time with her there. “Now I remember” Tancred said, “when I knocked on the door, she answered immediately ‘Come in,’ without sounding at all surprised. And there were two wine glasses on the table.”

  Alexander nodded. “She was definitely expecting a visitor.”

  Even the bailiff acquiesced.

  Then the three men rode on in silence.

  They passed a small lake. It was bound to be deep, because steep cliffs reached down into it along one side.

  The road went alongside the bank.

  All of a sudden, Tancred shouted and stopped his horse.

  The others looked at him. He seemed surprised and confused.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Alexander.

  “I’ve seen this lake before!”

  They waited while he tried to remember.

  “Now I know,” he shouted. “This was the river of death. In that terrible dream. I was riding the ghost horse ... and ... No, good heavens!”

  Alexander got down from his horse and so did the others.

  “You haven’t told us the details about your nightmares, my boy. Only that they were horrendous visions and that you were on your way to the realm of death. But because you were one of the Ice People, you were strong enough to return.”

  “Yes. All I saw to begin with were horrific faces – as one tends to when one has nightmares. Then everything around me became cold ...”

  “You got out,” nodded Alexander. “You rode, wasn’t that what you said?”

  “Yes, I either sat or was lying down on a horrible horse. It was skinny and bony and rocked slowly as it trotted.”

  “Go on!”

  “Then I came down here to the bank. To what I thought was the river of death. There was a boat which was to carry me to the realm of death.”

  They glanced at the bank where a very small fishing boat lay.

  “But the boat was moving away from the bank,” said Tancred so eagerly that he nearly stumbled over the words. “The skipper stopped by the cliff right over there. The boat must have been heavy because it was low on the water. Then the man got up and eased a dead body overboard. I saw that big stones were tied to the corpse.”

  The two men frowned.

  Tancred tried to convince them. “And I said something like ‘I thought you crossed the water when you die.’ Then the skipper gave me a stern look and shouted while the boat rocked after the splash, ‘Why have you brought him here? He has no business here.’ Or something along those lines. And then the horse moved away from the bank and horrible, gnarled fingers moved over my face, trying to grab me.”

  “The forest,” said Alexander. “You probably felt branches brushing your face.”

  “Yes. And all I remember from that moment is that a horrible face stared down at me. It was yellow-white ...”

  He thought carefully, “Actually, I think it was the moon!”

  “Quite likely,” said Alexander.

  “Yes,” said the bailiff. “This young man seems to have spent an eventful night. We need to dredge the lake to find the corpse.”

  “Do you think ... I actually saw something?”

  “That’s what we’ll try to find out. What did the skipper look like?”

  “Everything I recall from that night is grotesquely distorted because of the drug I must have taken. I’ve told you everything I can.”

  “I think we’ll delay our visit to New Askinge,” decided the bailiff. “I’ll summon my men ...”

  “Right, and I’ll ride home with my son,” said Alexander. He still looks sick.”

  Tancred fully agreed.

  “I must admit I still feel under the weather. But why did she poison me?”

  “I don’t think it was her intention to poison you,” said Alexander. “She was expecting somebody else that night – and you were in the way. Perhaps she gave you a kind of sleeping medicine.”

  “I think ... she tried to have sex with me.”

  “It seems that’s an old habit of hers. You were a man, which was sufficient for her. Perhaps she wanted you out of the way until her lover had left, then planned to cozy up with you when you woke up.”

  Tancred was silent for a moment. Everything was so confusing. Who was her lover? Who threw him out from Old Askinge? And somebody must have sat behind him on the horse. Who?

  “I think I want to go home.”

  The bailiff went with them in order to fetch his men. Shortly afterwards, they reached the fringes of the forest and saw New Askinge in the distance. They didn’t leave the forest but rode along the edge of it to remain hidden.

  Then they said goodbye to the bailiff, and as soon as they arrived at Aunt Ursula’s home, Tancred went straight to bed.

  “Say hello to Molly from me,” he mumbled and fell asleep.

  Tancred felt a lot better when he woke up that same evening. He got up and went downstairs to the dining room where his parents were having dinner.

  “Oh, there you are,” said Cecilie. “Do have something to eat. Are you feeling better now?”

  “A lot better, thank you. Where’s Molly?”

  “She’s sleeping. We’ve also taken a nap and Dad intends to ride to that horrible lake in order to see what’s going on there.”

  “I’ll join him,” said Tancred.

  “Do you really want to go along as well?”

  “I’ve recovered completely. Listen – no cold any more!”

  He took a deep breath through his nose – which triggered a bad cough. Tancred managed to arrange it so that he could join Alexander after dinner. Molly was still feverish, and he was too restless to just walk about at home.

  There was a magnificent sunset when they came to the lake. The little forest lake shimmered in red and yellow and a light haze began to form above the surface of the water.

  They were still dredging the lake to try and find the dead body. The men’s voices echoed against the cliff wall as the boat was rowed slowly back and forth nearby.

  The bailiff, who stood on the bank, monitoring it all, walked towards Alexander and Tancred.

  “Nothing yet,” he said curtly. “So it was probably just a dream.”

  “If so, only partly,” said Tancred. “Because I was here. That I know. Everything matches what I saw in my dream.”

  “Have you been to New
Askinge yet?” asked Alexander.

  “No, we’ve had plenty to do here and at that ruined ghost castle. The Duchess has been moved away from there now. She’s been dressed in a decent shroud and placed in the burial vault by the church. Purifying prayers have been said over the sinful woman. She was stabbed with a knife, just as we assumed.”

  “Who do you think she was expecting?”

  “Oh, it could have been quite a few different people. The men in the village were mad about her.”

  “But there are two, in particular, that you suspect, aren’t there?”

  The bailiff nodded. “The two that wanted Tancred to believe that tall story about Salina, the witch. Count Holzenstern and young Dieter.”

  “But the Duchess called herself Salina,” objected Tancred.

  “I’ve looked into it a bit. A legend does exist about a witch by the name of Salina, who is said to have resided at Old Askinge. They say she was old and abominable. I believe that the Duchess liked to call herself a witch, which sounded exciting and seductive. I suppose the men didn’t mind. I imagine they joined her in taking the locals for a ride, making them believe that Salina was the one who lived in the ruined castle. It would cover up the truth.”

  “That sounds fair enough,” nodded Alexander. He thought that this bailiff was both intelligent and sensible once he left behind his threatening demeanour. “That would intimidate people so that they wouldn’t go there.”

  “There’s no doubt in my mind that Dieter and the Count were her lovers,” said the bailiff. “There might be several more.”

  “Oh,” said Tancred. “Now I remember. At some point, Dieter said that they were trying to marry him off to Count Holzenstern’s daughter, Stella, but that he had other interests. ‘If only they knew,’ Dieter said to me with a smile. I thought he meant Jessica Cross or Molly. But perhaps it was the Duchess!”

  Alexander expressed a theory: “What if the person who turned up that night saw Tancred, became jealous and then stabbed the Duchess?”

  “I doubt it,” said the bailiff. “He probably would have stabbed your young son.”

  Tancred shuddered. His life had hung in the balance that night. He might have been stabbed, or died of the drug, or frozen to death in the forest, or caught pneumonia ...”

  A yell from the lake interrupted their thoughts.

  “What’s the matter?” shouted the bailiff.

  “I think we’ve got something,” shouted one of the men in reply. “It’s too heavy. The grapnel keeps dropping it.”

  “Are you sure it’s not a stone?”

  “It doesn’t feel like it.”

  The bailiff and the two other men hurried up onto the cliff. The boat lay right below them, reflected on the glittering surface of the water.

  “It must have been just about here that I saw the skipper ease down the corpse,” said Tancred.

  They could not stand right at the top of the cliff because there was no plateau there. So they stood as high up as they could in order to see the boat far beneath them.

  “Can’t Knudsen dive down?” said the bailiff.

  He explained to the others that Knudsen could swim.

  “It’s cold,” objected a very young man in the boat.

  “If you can just manage to fasten the grapnel, that’s OK.”

  “That will be long enough,” mumbled Knudsen, stripping off his clothes before jumping into the water.

  He gasped. “It’s giving me a cramp,” he shouted.

  “You’ll soon get used to it,” said the bailiff unmercifully.

  Knudsen cussed. Then he took a deep breath of air into his lungs and dived. His legs jerked in the air, and then they also disappeared.

  He came quickly to the surface.

  “There’s something down there all right, with stones tied to it. But, my word, it’s cold! Can I have a knife?”

  The poor man’s teeth were chattering from the cold.

  “You’ll get a healthy dram,” promised the bailiff. “Then you can run home afterwards.”

  The word dram seemed to do the trick. Knudsen dived once more and was down in the water a bit longer this time.

  Tancred’s heart pounded. So this was what he saw that night! It was a horrendous thought.

  Then the man was up again. “Help me into the boat! Then pull!” The water poured off him as he was dragged into the stern. He was shaking all over. Tancred felt truly sorry for him and was concerned for his health.

  The two others had begun to pull the rope. It was a difficult task because whatever they were pulling up was so heavy and the boat threatened to take in water on the other side.

  Tancred’s whole body was tense.

  Slowly, very slowly, the coil of rope in the boat became longer.

  “It was lying deep in the lake,” said the bailiff matter-of-factly. “They knew how to choose the perfect spot.”

  Something vague could be discerned down in the water. Tancred felt dizzy, and he had to hold on tight to the cliff. Two white legs ... a long skirt ... white, limp arms, strangely bloated after having been in the water for many days. A pale-blue, blurred and bloated face.

  “Jessica Cross?” asked Alexander.

  “No!” a man in the boat shouted back. “This is Molly. Molly Hansedatter.”

  Chapter 6

  Tancred looked quite helpless.

  ”Molly?” he said stupidly.

  Alexander, who stood behind him, had put his hands on his shoulders.

  “How many Molly’s are there?” said Tancred pleadingly.

  “There’s only one Molly in this parish,” said the bailiff curtly.

  “Didn’t you recognise the girl who was with us today?” said Alexander.

  “No, I don’t know her. I’ve only been in this part of Denmark for three months and I’ve only been to New Askinge once. It was in connection with the escapades of the late Duchess. And then I didn’t meet said Molly. Or the other one.”

  The boat glided past them down below. Tancred stood, looking straight at the woman, who lay at the bottom of the boat. The one whose name was Molly. She was dressed in an exquisite cape and from what he could glean from the face, she was older than his ...

  Than his what?

  “But then who’s lying in bed at home?” he asked in a trembling voice. “The one that I ...”

  “It can only be Jessica Cross,” said the bailiff.

  “Then everything makes much more sense. Because I must admit that the humble servant girl, Molly, was surprisingly well-mannered and educated. Did this never occur to you, Tancred?”

  It ought to have. Her very strong displeasure when he gave her some money, almost alms...

  “No,” said the boy sheepishly. “I was just in love.”

  Then a violent anger began to take hold of him. She had cheated him. Made a fool of him! Toyed with his feelings.

  “I don’t want to see her any more,” he whispered.

  “Now, now,” said Alexander admonishingly. “First of all, we need to find out what all this means. We need to be very matter-of-fact and to the point. You can let your emotions flare afterwards.”

  “You just don’t understand, Dad! She’s the first girl I’ve ever felt anything for!”

  “I understand you perfectly well. If you absolutely have to, then go somewhere else and let off steam. But don’t go back to Ursula’s home in the mood you’re in right now.”

  “Home?” said Tancred, and his voice broke. “I certainly don’t want to go there any more. I just want to keep on walking until I collapse ...”

  “Yes, why not?” said his dad, matter-of-factly. “Here we find two unhappy women dead on the very same day and you get all excited over your wounded vanity. Without so much as trying to find out why your much beloved has done as she has. You judge her too harshly. You should probab
ly just go away so that we can think in peace and quiet!”

  Tancred slumped. He came to his senses. “Forgive me! I’ll behave myself and be decent. But I’m very unhappy. And baffled.”

  “That goes without saying. So would I be if I were you.”

  “I think we’d better take a closer look at the woman,” said the bailiff. “Then our next stop will be New Askinge.”

  Molly Hansedatter had suffered a blow to the back of her head and had probably died instantly. One of the men, who had some connections with Askinge, said that the cape she wore belonged to Jessica Cross.

  “I don’t see any connection between these two murders,” said Tancred, who had decided to conceal his broken heart as effectively as possible.

  “There’s bound to be,” said the bailiff. “Two women aren’t killed on the very same night without there being a link.”

  They reached New Askinge and were asked to come in by a surprised host and hostess.

  Tancred Paladin did the introductions by saying, “This is my father, Margrave Paladin and this is the bailiff.”

  “We’ve met once before,” mumbled Holzenstern to the bailiff. “Any news of Jessica?”

  “And Molly. Yes, we have.”

  “Really?” said the Countess. “Where are they?”

  “I’m sorry to tell you that Molly Hansedatter is dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “Stabbed and thrown in the lake right outside. Jessica Cross is at a secret location for her own protection.”‘The bailiff is intelligent,’ thought Alexander once more.

  Stella, the daughter, stood stiff and silent behind her parents.

  Beautiful and lifeless.

  “I don’t understand,” stuttered the Count.

  All three seemed deeply shocked.

  “We have more bad news to report. The Duchess has been found stabbed to death at Old Askinge.”

  “My sister?” screamed the Countess in a shrill voice. “But she isn’t there!”

  “It’s clear that she’s lived there for a longer period of time. My guess is that she never left the place.”

  “This is simply outrageous!” said the Countess. “What on earth is going on?”