‘I understand’ he muttered. ‘But we’ve been very careful – and it’s worked.’
‘Hmmm,’ she murmured, and the sound could have meant anything or nothing.
As she pressed her moist lips against his throat, Tengel’s memories of the first passionate year with her were rekindled. He pushed her harder up against the wall and lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist.
With an embarrassed laugh, Silje whispered, ‘your spear has pierced me – pinned me to the wall – a sacrifice to my unbounded passion.’
‘Oh, such language!’ he grinned, but she could see that he was aroused and pleased by it.
Silje closed her eyes again, unable to speak, and a soft, languorous smile spread across her face. Tengel looked down at her and saw she was ready for him. She had not succumbed to her desires so completely for a long time and he began to wonder what had caused this. Then in another moment he could wonder no longer because the dark timbers of the cottage walls seemed suddenly clouded in a magical mist and a familiar, exquisite dizziness took rough hold of him. An unbearable urgency began to rage within him, mounting in a long, slow gradual crescendo before finally leaving him spent and helpless.
‘Oh Silje,’ he whispered. ‘Silje, Silje – my beloved little flower. How is it that one so delicate, so frail can hold such fascination? It must surely be a form of magic.’
****
Some time later, Eldrid left the valley. Without any ceremony she and her husband set off down the tunnel beneath the glacier, taking with them all their chattels and leading a train of livestock, bound for an uncertain future in a hostile world.
Silje sobbed after they had gone, and later that evening, she asked Tengel, ‘Why didn’t you want to keep any of their livestock? They’re ours by right anyway. Tell me the real reason!’
The children were playing outside and Tengel was sitting quietly mending the fishing net while Silje cleared the supper table. Lifting his head, he sighed, ‘You know you don’t like hearing me talk of such things.’
‘But this time I want you to.’
‘Oh, as you wish, you obstinate girl. I felt that – hindrance again.’
‘Hindrance? Oh, I see. Something within you made you resist when Eldrid offered to leave you some of the animals.’
‘Yes. I’ve never felt it as strongly as I did then. So I let them go.’
‘Yet still you don’t want to leave the valley?’
‘Even if I did, I would first have to go on my own and carefully search out a place where we could live. But there is nowhere, my dearest. The descendants of Tengel the Evil One are hunted everywhere. Oh, everything seems so hopeless!’
‘I know how you feel,’ said Silje quietly.
She stole a glance at him. Could he really know nothing? Had he not suspected or sensed her condition? With all her heart, she hoped not.
She felt so afraid – afraid for her life – but more than that, she was afraid Tengel would find out. After the awful, difficult birth of Liv he had vowed, ‘Never again! Never – never! If it happens again, Silje, I’ll kill the unborn within you, quickly and painlessly with one of my potions. Next time it will do no good to pray for the child!’
There was no denying that she had carefully and anxiously examined her food for signs that he had sprinkled a powder over it, but he obviously suspected nothing. Not even when they made love outside in the yard had he realised why she had thrown caution to the wind, despite being surprised by her apparent wantonness.
Of course she knew it was mad to try to nurture this new life inside her! She knew there was a chance it might turn out to be a monster, a half-human descendent of the first Tengel – a mutation like Hanna or Grimar – or worse still, the woman down by the lake. Silje had only seen her once when Eldrid had wanted some eggs and cheese taken down to the woman. When Silje left the lakeside dwelling she had been almost numb with terror, knowing that something so primitive, so unspeakable could exist. An aura of absolute evil had surrounded the woman. Although she was no longer alive, the experience had made Silje realise just how little Tengel and Sol had been tainted by their evil heritage, even though most people, apart from herself, regarded Tengel as hideous and terrifying.
There was also one more uncertainty. Silje would probably not live through another childbirth, and this fear was uppermost in Tengel’s mind. Thankfully Hanna’s intervention had saved her the first time, but should she try to give birth to one of those ‘beasts’ – one with Tengel’s abnormally broad, angular shoulders – it would be impossible for her to survive. Tengel’s own mother had bled to death bringing him into the world, although Sol’s mother had survived, possibly because her daughter was of a more delicate build. Yet Sol too carried the unmistakable signs of the heritage that lived within her. The awful power of witchcraft and her face, with those cat-like eyes, immediately betrayed her ancestry. This was the seven-year-old girl that Silje was thinking of taking back to Trondelag, where the Ice People were ruthlessly hunted down!
Eldrid would be all right. Her features looked normal and she was not one of the chosen, despite being a direct descendent of Tengel the Evil. Liv bore none of the signs either. But what did Silje know about the child now forming itself inside her? It had been growing for almost four months. Concealing her pregnancy from Tengel had been difficult, but luckily she hadn’t suffered such dreadful early bouts of sickness this time. At the moment it was relatively easy to dissemble and disguise its presence, although soon, very soon it would start to show.
Then two days later they received a visit that was both unexpected and disturbing. A man who had hardly ever set foot beyond the boundary of his own farmstead and who had never visited them before came to see them. Nothing was said or done in advance to herald his visit. Yet his arrival, when he appeared, filled Silje with an immediate and dreadful foreboding. What on earth, she wondered, could this mean?
Chapter 2
At first, Silje couldn’t make out who was struggling up the hill. But at last, as the bent figure came closer, she recognised him. Now she could see his protruding eyes and the grotesque wart-covered head that in her mind resembled an overgrown turnip. It was none other than Grimar.
Silje suspected the worst as she curtseyed and welcomed this relative of Tengel and Hanna. She invited him into the cottage, but he shook his head. ‘Hanna bade me come,’ he growled as he stood in the yard looking like a pile of filthy rags. ‘She wants to speak wi’ you – all o’ you!’
‘Thank you,’ replied Silje calmly, although the unexpected invitation struck fear into her heart. ‘We shall be pleased to visit her.’
‘There’ll not be feasting,’ he added swiftly.
‘Of course not. Not when old Mother Hanna is bedridden.’ Silje hesitated, gathering her thoughts, then added, ‘Tengel and the boy are out in the forest gathering wood and will be back before long. The girls and I will put on some better clothes. Will you not sit awhile, Uncle Grimar, and take food while you wait? We can all go back together.’
The repulsive creature, whose clothes might have been fashioned from mouldy cloth held together by spiders’ webs, hesitated and gave Silje an inquiring glance. His amazed expression said silently, ‘You’re asking me into your home? No one has ever done that!’
‘Well. I s’pose I might,’ he muttered and shuffled inside, accompanied by an overpowering foetid stench.
Before they had time to make any embarrassing comments, Silje herded the girls into the back room to put on the somewhat forlorn Sunday pinafores she had made to hide their tattered everyday clothes. Straight away she began to set the table for the old man with the best food they had. Sadly it was not much because, like so many other residents of the valley, they had run short during the harsh winter. Nevertheless she had ale, bread-cakes – made from the last sweepings of corn from the floor of the barn – and goats’ milk cheese. She even brought out the last few precious cloud berries that she had been saving since the previous autumn.
Eagerly
Grimar helped himself to the food and the noise of his eating could be heard throughout the cottage. Silje left him and went to see if the girls had finished dressing and quickly combed their hair.
‘You two go out and talk to Uncle Grimar while I put on some other clothes,’ she whispered when she saw that they were ready. ‘Liv, you must say nothing about the way he looks or smells! Sol, you will behave won’t you?’
‘Of course, we know each other well,’ she said precociously.
I’m sure you do, thought Silje wryly, and she was very relieved when finally Tengel arrived.
Almost at once they all set off with Grimar, who by now was a well fed old man, huffing and puffing as he tramped along at their side. Dag had not welcomed the unexpected visit – he was quite fastidious, and dirt and disorder made him feel uncomfortable. Tengel had found it necessary to place one hand hastily over the boy’s mouth to stifle an uncomplimentary outburst. Now, suitably chastened, he walked in dignified silence at Silje’s side, as far away from the old man as possible.
As expected, Hanna greeted them from her bed when they entered. By the dim flickering light of the fire, Silje could clearly see that she had aged greatly. The years were eventually catching up on the old witch – she was after all one generation older than her nephew Grimar and two older than Tengel. Silje was thankful for the lack of light, for while she considered Grimar repulsive to look at, Hanna was ten times worse! Here before her lay the very worst of Tengel the Evil’s legacy.
‘So – you’ve arrived at last!’ snapped the old hag. ‘I thought you’d never get here.’
‘Silje offered me vittles, Hanna,’ said Grimar excitedly. The rarity of the event had made him quite emotional.
Hanna was unmoved. And well I know it,’ she hissed. ‘They feed all their guests well and I have eaten there more times than you – when I pulled this little girl of Silje’s out into the world. Oh, yes! I’ve seen how well they live.’
With the matter of prestige now firmly settled, she turned on her visitors. ‘Tengel, you are a stupid fool! Why did you not take your family and leave with Eldrid?’
No one else but Hanna would ever have treated Tengel like an errant child. However, he did not seem to be unduly taken aback by the question.
‘Should I have?’ he asked coolly.
‘You know full well that you ought to have gone. Sol knew it as well.’
The children stood in respectful silence at the door. Dag, more sensitive than the others, was not enjoying the spectacle at all.
‘l was filled with uncertainty,’ Tengel answered. ‘So many perils await us there.’
‘Stupid! Always stupid!’ she said scornfully. Always worrying about this thing or that. People like us cannot afford to be worthy! This you know. Yet you – you are both worthy and stupid. Stand up for your kith and kin, man! Now listen!’ She leaned forward, adding weight to her words. ‘I know that you have also sensed something, and that is why you let the livestock go. That was a wise thing to do. Now you must prepare to leave as well – without delay!’
Tengel stood motionless, his face showing no expression. ‘But what of you, Old Mother Hanna? And Grimar?’
She sank back against the pillow. ‘Aasch! We are old. But the children, and your wife … Come closer, Silje!’
The small dark room was filled with an unworldly aura, as though spirits lay in wait, crouched in every dark nook and cranny, watching them. Was someone weeping somewhere, mourning the loss of a way of life – mourning the past?
Fighting to hide her revulsion, Silje moved closer to the hideous creature lying on the bed. She kept reminding herself that Hanna had once saved her life, as well as the life of her daughter Liv. The next moment the witch’s cold gnarled lingers grasped Silje’s hands.
‘You and your children, Silje, have been ... they’ve been … Oh! It is of no matter!’ Pointing to Tengel she continued, ‘Promise only that you will make this half-wit of a man take you and the children away from this valley!’ Her voice faded to a whisper. ‘For this time I shall not be able to help you.’
Silje twitched – Hanna knew! But of course she did. Hanna always knew. She squeezed the old woman’s hands tightly, as if to warm them. Then in a loud voice she asked, ‘Why do you believe we should leave, old Mother?’
Hanna looked directly at Tengel. ‘Do you not know?’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I sense great fear and anguish, but no more than that.’
The ancient crone nodded in agreement, adding, ‘But I sense far more than that. I can feel that one of our kin from the Valley of the Ice People is in distress. Great distress.’
‘Heming?’ Tengel said quietly. It was a statement as much as a question.
‘Yes, it is Heming – the worthless wretch! He should have been stifled at birth.’
There had been no news of Heming for several years and it was assumed that he had left Trondelag – or perhaps been killed – long ago.
‘Now perhaps you can understand why you ought to leave.’
‘I can. But do you think there is danger? Here?’
Hanna threw back her head in a gesture of impatience and dismissal. ‘I called you, did I not? Time is pressing. I feel it like a fire that burns inside me.’
‘Then I shall give thought to what you say.’
‘Then think quickly, very quickly! Now be gone and leave your – or should I say your sister Sunniva’s daughter Sol here with me for a moment. I need to speak with her alone.´
‘But Mother Hanna!’ Tengel objected.
‘It does not concern you!’ the old witch screamed in a voice that chilled the blood. ‘That such fine girls should be related to such a cretin! Off with you! And mind you take good care of little Liv Hanna, my god daughter.’
Awkwardly Tengel bade farewell. He and Hanna had never been able to agree about anything. She was the witch who fought to keep alive the evil legacy, while he was the friend of humanity, mercilessly afflicted by his ancestry, trying to prevent it from spreading.
On an impulse, Silje bent forward and kissed the old woman’s withered cheek and as she did so, she saw that the crone’s eyes were glistening – brimful of tears.
‘You go on,’ said Grimar, bidding them farewell. ‘Sol will catch up with you.’
Once they had started back on the road home, Silje said, ‘My heart is filled with sadness, Tengel. Your unease has touched me too! And poor Grimar – I know nothing about him; he has always stood in Hanna’s shadow. Today I saw him as a separate being for the first time, and I feel so sorry for him!’
‘Well, you shouldn’t,’ said Tengel curtly. ‘Grimar is Hanna’s lackey and when she commands, he obeys – with pleasure! The Ice People keep the secret of his deeds, Folk have disappeared and other terrible things have happened about which none dares to speak aloud. Yet nobody will challenge or stop him because he does Hanna’s bidding – and everyone is wary of her. Only a fool would not be.’
Despite Tengel’s outburst, she said, ‘Well, I cannot help but feel sorry for him – for both of them.’
‘No matter. It is fortunate we are in their favour,’ conceded Tengel, ‘and that is in no small part your doing.’
‘Those people were horrible,’ said Dag. ‘Are we going to leave our home?’
‘I don’t know,’ answered Tengel slowly.
‘Oh yes we are!’ interrupted Silje. ‘We are definitely leaving ...’
‘But where shall we go?’ objected her husband. Are our children going to suffer a life of utter misery because of us?’
Silje was deaf to his protests. ‘We are going! And wherever we go, we will start to pack this very day.’
‘All right,’ sighed Tengel. ‘As you wish.’
****
As soon as the decision had been taken, Tengel acted with feverish urgency. He spent the whole day sorting through the cottage and outhouses, carefully selecting and packing the things they would need. ‘It will be a few days before we can leave,’ he declared. ‘I need to catch
more fish and I must barter for more meat and other vittles with the neighbouring farms. The shafts on the cart need fixing as well.’
‘That’s good. Then I will have time to wash all our clothes.’ said Silje. Looking at the pile of things to be thrown away she exclaimed, ‘Good Heavens! What a lot of rubbish we have collected.’
‘Yes,’ Tengel agreed, ‘it’s hard to believe, but tomorrow we can burn it all.’ Carefully lifting the pretty glazed, leaded mosaic from its shell, he added, ‘We must take this with us.’
‘Oh, yes. You remember when you said it was destined for a different house?’
‘Perhaps I was right after all,’ he said, but his voice suggested he still had his doubts. Then he reached up and took down one more thing. ‘And what about this?’
With a broad grin he held her book aloft. Silje reached out and took it from him, placing it among the items to be taken with them. ‘Of course. But we don’t need to take everything with us, do we? We shall be coming back – for the summers?’
‘I truly hope that we shall.’ replied Tengel, ‘l am pleased that you would want to.’
She glared at him. ‘I love this wonderful valley, the lake and the mountains. I love the uplands with their yellow mountain violets, and those tiny, impossibly blue flowers – you know the ones I mean? I just don’t want to be forced to live here. What’s more, I could happily live apart from the people in the valley – some of them anyway.’
‘On that we are agreed,’ smiled Tengel. Hurriedly snatching a kiss before the children came in.
Silje brought out the carved casket Tengel had given her as a wedding gift. ‘Because I plucked the lily before I had God’s blessing,’ he had said on giving it to her. It had never occurred to Silje that she could probably have carved it far more artistically, had she wished, and it was one of her most treasured possessions. Wistfully she folded the blanket and covers that the new-born Dag had been wrapped in when she found him and placed them on the pile of things that they would never leave behind. ‘That’s enough for now,’ she said quietly. ‘The little ones must prepare for bed. They are so worked up about the packing.’
Witch-Hunt Page 3
