There had been times when Silje had thought back to the moment when Tengel had first set eyes on Sol – and how he had felt then that her life should not necessarily be saved. In her heart Silje sometimes wondered if he hadn’t been right. But nevertheless they loved the girl. She could be so wonderfully considerate and loving and had always looked after the younger ones perfectly, even though, with that devilish glint in her eye, she had been known to lead them into mischief. However, she was certainly not the first nor the last child in the world to have got herself and others into trouble! In fact because of this they probably showed her somewhat greater affection, in the strange way parents always do with any child who creates more trouble and sadness.
Charlotte had wanted Sol to be a courtier, but that had been out of the question. What a scandal there would have been! Charlotte was blissfully unaware of some of the other facets of Sol’s personality, yet perhaps she was right. Perhaps Sol was just going through a time of change and there was still hope that she could grow out of it.
As these thoughts chased each other through Silje’s mind, she heard the stranger’s voice, as if in a fog, addressing her.
‘I believe I shall take a short walk,’ he was saying. ‘To get some strength back into my legs.’
‘Yes, do that.’ replied Silje warmly. ‘We shall eat one hour before noon.’
Before he left the house, Master Johan had seen Sol disappear into the trees at the edge of the forest carrying her cat in her arms. Stepping out into the yard, he made his way through the crowd and set off after her. Suddenly he heard a soft ‘Pssst’ and, turning round, he saw the Verger standing beside him, trying to conceal his face under the hood of a great cape.
‘Good day, Master Johan,’ the yellowish wraith-like figure whispered in a hoarse voice. ‘I wanted only to make it known that I am here close by should you need my help.’
This immediately angered Johan. He most certainly neither wanted nor needed anyone’s help. ‘Be so kind as to not creep around here looking like a thief from a band of roving outlaws! Good God, man! Are you intent on ruining everything? Be on your way! Leave – at once!’
Being a member of the Court of Inquisition had advantages, one of which was the unquestioning respect and obedience given to the office he held. A moment later, suitably chastised, the servant of the Church had disappeared from the yard and Johan prowled quietly among the sparse trees at the edge of the forest, shaded by the dappled green of the early summer foliage. He had made a circuitous approach, so that no one would suspect that he was following the girl – but he was on her trail.
‘For God – against Satan!’ This was his war cry and, as he made his way through the trees with the velvety moss underfoot, he repeated it over and over silently to himself. It strengthened the resolve of those in the service of righteousness. Not that Johan needed it. He was so steeped in his fanatical beliefs that he could pick out a disciple of the Devil in his sleep – without concerning himself much about proving their guilt or innocence. He always knew best!
‘For God – against Satan!’
He searched for a long time before he found her. At first he heard the tender bubbly voice and then caught sight of Sol kneeling in one of the pastures at the edge of a stream beside a cloth spread out on the ground. She was talking to the cat that was sitting obediently opposite her.
On the cloth, which he now could see was the one that had been tied around her bundle, lay a variety of strange objects, all laid out in a distinct pattern. Johan’s heart quickened its beat – there could be no doubt what the girl was doing. It was sorcery!
Suddenly without turning round she called to him, ‘Come out, Master Johan. Come and see what I’m doing!’ Crestfallen that she had so easily discovered his presence, he rose from the bushes and went down to where she sat.
It was a wonderful day. Dog roses bloomed in the hedgerows surrounding the field and buttercups vied for a place with a variety of deep blue midsummer flowers that littered the pastures. This girl, Master Johan realised suddenly, had come into his austere life like a revelation. The colour in her cheeks, the fine soft curve of her lips and those bewitching eyes! Amber or green? It was impossible to say because the colour changed almost continually. Her features were framed in curls of darkest brown, almost black hair that cascaded down over the white blouse she wore and her figure was far more shapely than that of any other fourteen year old he had ever seen. Looking at her, Master Johan felt his eyes becoming irritated by an unfamiliar prickly sensation. Could it be caused by tears? No, how ridiculous! He had long ago forgotten what tears were.
The cat had been gauging the worth of the man, staring at him intently with its dispassionate green eyes. Then abruptly it lost interest and turned away.
‘Look here. Look what I’ve done,’ said Sol with a confidence that overwhelmed him. ‘I have laid out a healing supplication for you, so that you’ll be well again and not have any more pain. Everything looks line, I think, but you suffer discomfort in your soul, Master Johan. And soon it will be worse!’
‘I would rather not know what will happen to me in the future, thank you!’ he said sharply. Petty illusions, he said to himself, and to think you would try to fool me like that! Without more ado, Sol gathered up all her strange mummified objects. Some were so old that they gave no clue as to what they might once have been.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I was just interested in you and what your future held. Still, it’s probably best not to see too much. There was one sign that I did not like – and I want only what is best for you.’
‘It was kind of you to think of me,’ he said brusquely. Still unable to take his eyes off her he leaned towards her. ‘You do know, don’t you that you ought not to be practising these sorts of things?’
Asch! This is nothing! Only a game, a mere bagatelle,’ replied Sol dismissively. Anyway, l must go. l have to give “my brother, the Baron” a message from Silje. Oh, and we aren’t allowed to call Mistress Charlotte “Mistress” any longer,’ She giggled again. ‘Only because she is Dag’s mother! But perhaps you knew that already?’
Oh, yes! Johan knew that all right. The verger had left nothing out of his report. ‘Sin! Sin everywhere!’ the obnoxious little man had said, as his eyes shone with delight and his tongue flicked back and forth like a snake’s over his thin bloodless lips. Johan shuddered for a moment. This was a man who shared his values – he was a man of virtue – Johan must be of one accord with him.
The girl said farewell and ran off, sprightly as any dancer, with her cat chasing at her heels. All the intricate questions he had been composing suddenly seemed unimportant and worthless and they sank back into the recesses of his mind. For a while he stood pondering all that had been said, before he finally started walking back towards Lindenallée.
Still lost in thought, he took out his paper and stick of charcoal from their secret pouch. He had noted down in every detail all the things he needed answers to, according to the Principal Judge’s wishes. Emblazoned with many whorls and flourishes, the questions stared back at him from the paper. There were lots of them, all pedantically numbered and all eternally ingenious.
He read through the lists. He had the answer to one of the most crucial questions, ‘Are there any signs indicating the practice of witchcraft?’ On the piece of paper with the girl’s name on it, he had no choice but to write ‘Yes’ beside the question. He had one piece of paper for each of them, because it was exceedingly important that he always make a distinction between a witch and a wizard – or sorcerer!
At that moment Master Johan reflected on the unquestioning trust that had been vested in him and his heart swelled with pride. Feeling the responsibility keenly, he raised the stick of charcoal. Then after a moment he lowered it again without writing anything.
Irritated, he realised that he had forgotten to secure any evidence for the Court. Something, he could not say what, had twisted his train of thought and he had forgotten. How easy it would have been for h
im to pick up one of those old objects and pocket it. Even though he might not be able to decide what they were, he felt sure he would find all the most frightening items among them. Bats’ wings; the fingers of hanged criminals; the bones of new-born babes and much else besides. To think he had missed such an opportunity – it might not present itself again.
Better to wait before answering that question then. Having hidden the paper in its pouch, he set off again. But now, for some unknown reason, every determined stride he took suddenly seemed lighter.
Chapter 11
After taking her leave of Master Johan, Sol hurried through the forest towards Grastensholm, her thoughts rushing wildly hither and thither as only a happy adolescent’s thoughts can. When she emerged into the open fields she followed the stone wall that ran along the side of the horses’ paddock. In the pasture there were birch trees that had always held a special place in her heart; standing widely spaced apart with their straight white trunks etched with splashes of black, they were now proudly displaying their elegant pale green shimmering foliage in profusion.
This was where the children would come on fine spring days to pick blue anemones and the pretty white wood anemones that bloomed after them. The whole pasture was a field of blue that then turned to white, and Sol loved it so. She could imagine the cries of her siblings echoing around the birches, calling to her that they had found some special flowers, more colourful or taller than the others.
Now it was summer and it was the turn of the grasses to reign supreme. She watched as a stallion galloped across the adjoining field, its hooves thundering over the ground. He was a magnificent sight to see; a chestnut with a flaxen mane and a long, bushy, flowing tail. Unsuccessfully, Sol tried running to keep up with him, although she was glad that there was a wall between them. When she gave up, breathless and laughing, the horse whinnied in triumph.
At last Sol could see where he was heading. The new stable lad had just come into the paddock leading a filly. The new stable lad! What luck, she thought, and climbed up onto the top of the wall. ‘Hello!’ she shouted happily.
Klaus looked towards her, blushing bright pink. ‘It’s best you leave here, Mistress – and quick too!’
‘Is it dangerous to sit here, then?’
‘No, not dangerous, but – in Jesus name, be swift! Go ’way!’
Sol remained seated. The stallion had reached the filly and the young female horse was pulling at the rope Klaus was holding, trying to get away. The stallion was beating his hooves on the ground and giving a deep-throated whinny, so Klaus let the filly loose and climbed over the wall. Then he walked up to where Sol was sitting and lifted her down.
What a pleasant sensation it was to feel his hands encircle her waist! Sol wanted the moment to last longer.
‘I was told I had to help him,’ Klaus muttered. ‘But it doesn’t look like he needs helping. Please, you must go now, Mistress. Please.’
‘Help him with what?’
At that very moment an answer from Klaus became unnecessary. Sol stared in fascination at what was unfolding before her. Never had she seen anything like this; they did almost no farming at Lindenallée, because Silje always grew too attached to the animals and therefore could not bear to be parted from them. Whenever things ‘like that’ took place in the barn or stables the children were kept away.
Had it been Silje standing here now in the company of a man, confronted with this, she would have died of shame. Sol, however, was not like Silje. As she watched the two horses moving together, a joyous smile spread slowly across her face, its brilliance only matched by the sun after which she was named.
‘That’s grand,’ she said somewhat breathlessly. ‘Just watching them makes me feel funny inside – all tingly and itchy. Do you feel it too?’
Klaus didn’t know where to look, but he was charged to look after the animals, so he kept his bright red face turned towards them. However it would be an untruth of massive proportions to say that he was not affected by what was going on. Sol moved slightly, rubbing her thighs together. She was looking at the young, handsome but slightly backward Klaus in a new light and let her curious and thoughtful gaze wander over him. She took an almost imperceptible step in his direction and let her arm brush against his shirt. The sensation made her shudder and she took a deep, slow breath.
When she turned her attention to the horses once more, her voice caught in her throat. ‘It looks so beautiful,’ she whispered. Then after a long moment she glanced round again at Klaus. ‘And just look at the filly’s half-closed eyes – don’t you think she’s enjoying it?’
Klaus stared back at Sol; seeing her welcoming smile and uninhibited interest in the horses, he grinned slightly, taking care not to offend her. Then feeling more confident, he laughed aloud, though softly in case he worried or disturbed the animals. She laughed back at him, just as quietly and respectfully, and in that instant they became simply two innocent young people, completely at one with nature, joyful to have caught a glimpse of a new and enticing world.
Before long the horses finished coupling and the stallion stood down. ‘Will there be a foal from that?’ asked Sol who had never been slow in understanding the world around her.
Klaus could do no more than nod his head vigorously. His pale blue eyes shone and the excitement he also felt could not be disguised. Sol acted as though she was intoxicated and in a mad moment wondered what it would be like to change places with the filly. Unthinking, she voiced her thoughts out loud.
‘Mistress Sol!’ said Klaus, aghast and at a loss for words. However, he too was panting slightly and he wondered suddenly whether he should tell her about the heifer that … But no! Nothing had come of it. Even though he knew many lads who had done it, he had not dared – despite being alone so much and in great need of comfort. Still it was a long time ago and he had almost forgotten the stupid idea until now. Yet he felt he wanted to tell her about it, if only to show her that he understood her feelings.
‘Ha!’ said Sol, unaware of his horrible secret. ‘I’ve never understood why a person can’t say whatever they want to. So long as they do not bring harm or sorrow to another, it matters not. I’m not causing you harm now, am I?’
Although Klaus was somewhat witless, his plain common sense was not lacking and he answered at once, ‘No, Miss, not at all! And I think what you say is right, but one such as me can’t be heard saying those sorts of things!’
‘What stupidity! People are stupid, aren’t they, Klaus?’
‘Yes ‘um,’ he replied, giving her a shy, awkward glance.
At that moment Sol was experiencing a tingle of excitement unlike anything she had ever felt before. The skin on her breasts grew taut, as though an icy chill had swept over them. and the throbbing she sensed in other parts of her body was almost more than she could bear.
Klaus stood motionless, both hands gripping the bleached poles across the field entrance. He was in torment. He knew very well that if he did not withstand temptation right now, a terrible punishment would befall him afterwards. She is but a child, he told himself, his thoughts racing. What’s more, she’s one of line birth. Stay away, Klaus, stay well away! Please God, guide me now!
A stifled gasp came from between his tightly pressed lips. ‘Mistress – the foreman will soon be here to find out how things have gone. Best that you ...’
‘Yes, I’m going. I should be up at the big house. Do you like it here at Grastensholm?’ She had been gently amused to see the discomfort the young lad was suffering and was trying instead to make him feel more relaxed.
‘Yes, very much. But I’m soon to move on.’
‘Move on?’ echoed Sol. This was not to her liking at all. ‘Where to?’
‘The Baroness has found a very line position for me, with the procurator’s stables. She recommended me because I am so good with horses.’
Sol cursed deep inside – something she was strictly forbidden from doing. Neither of them knew that this was a ploy to separate the two of t
hem. She had developed far too much of an interest in this simple young stable hand. The pair of them represented a dangerous combination – the morally irresponsible Sol and the lowly man of the earth Klaus.
‘When do you leave?’
‘Tuesday.’
Tuesday? That didn’t leave her much time. Sol was no longer in any doubt about what she wanted, having now discovered the power she wielded over the male sex. In truth it had completely intoxicated her and she could hardly wait to go further. Well might he try to resist and strive against her – frightened and downtrodden as one of the lower classes would be – and show concern for her youth. But she had ways and means.
‘Shall you be working in the stables all the time until then?’ she asked lightly. ‘Here I mean.’
‘No. On Monday I must take the cows to new grazing up on the ridge.’
‘On your own?’
‘Course.’
Perfect, thought Sol, but she simply said, ‘I’ve got to get on now. Thanks for your company.” With a laugh, she scooped up the cat – he had been stalking a beetle through the grass – and ran off.
Klaus watched her go, but his longing for her would not subside. Aroused as he was by watching the horses and by Sol’s closeness, he walked over to the edge of the forest to find a private place. Wrapping his arms around a birch, he closed his eyes and imagined vividly what it would be like to hold her in his arms. Soon his breathing began to come in short gasps and he clung more tightly to the tree. Before long his legs turned weak, unable to support his weight any longer, and he sank slowly to the ground.
****
‘Silje, would you consider painting Dag?’ wondered Charlotte aloud. She was in Silje’s studio, which was really only a remodeled milking parlour, but it served its new purpose equally well.
‘A portrait you mean?’ Silje sounded doubtful. ‘I don’t know that I dare – I’ve never tried.’
Witch-Hunt Page 18
