When they berthed in Copenhagen, a carriage was waiting for the old lady, and so Sol’s task had been accomplished. The noblewoman was so delighted with Sol that she gave her a purse that jingled with the sound of coins. Sol had to pull herself together not to count the money then and there. She curtseyed and waved after the carriage as it drove away.
But she wasn’t left to her own devices because Dag was already there on the quayside waiting to greet her.
On catching sight of him, Sol ran straight towards him and threw herself into his arms.
“My word, Dag. You’ve become so handsome! You’ve grown too, little brother!”
She pushed him away from her, holding him at arm’s length, and looked him up and down. His features were now more masculine. Although his face was still long and straight, all his features had become better proportioned and more in balance. His light-brown eyebrows were well defined and his eyes were metal-grey, which contrasted with his blonde hair. His clothes were the height of fashion. Gone was the everyday quilted jacket with a patterned front, high neck and cuffs and there was no sign of the short, baggy breeches he’d always worn at home.
Now Dag lived in Copenhagen and he went along with the times and the fashion. He sported a hat with a wide brim, one side held up with a feather. The shirt collar was wide, turned down and had long points. Trousers and jacket were more close-fitting than she’d been used to seeing on him at home, and he wore elegant boots, which so impressed Sol. He was ever so handsome, he really was! Her eye began to inspect the few women she saw on the quay. “Is this the way all people dress in Copenhagen?” she exclaimed. “I must look very old fashioned. I want to hide, Dag.”
Dag laughed. Their admiration for each other was mutual despite her simple Norwegian garb.
“There’s no need for that. My word, how am I to tackle it all?”
“Tackle what?”
“Keeping your admirers at arm’s length.”
“Why would you want to keep them at arm’s length?” Sol chuckled, and although Dag took it as a joke, it wasn’t meant that way.
“We can walk to my lodgings. It’s not very far. Let me take your trunk. I don’t think it’s too heavy – and your bundle as well.”
“No. I’ll carry that myself.”
Dag looked at her sideways but didn’t insist.
“So how are things at home?” he asked eagerly after they’d left the lively quay and entered a street full of traffic.
Sol found it almost impossible to take her eyes off all the extraordinary new things that surrounded her, with people swarming everywhere and even animals in the street, pungent smells of fish, seaweed, garbage, fruit and vegetables ... although she’d been with Tengel to Akershus and Oslo a few times, this was something totally different. This was the great wide world she longed for!
“At home? All is well. They all send their love, especially Charlotte, of course. I’ve brought letters, lots of letters – and money.”
“That’s wonderful,” murmured Dag.
“And Are wondered whether you could get him one of those modern Snaphaunce muskets.” She broke off again, gazing around excitedly. “Look at that house – it’s so big!”
She was bubbling with excitement.
“I suppose that my mother, Charlotte, is feeling alone now?” Dag said thoughtfully.
“Yes, and she’s impatient for you to complete your studies and return home. But she and Silje spend a lot of time together.”
“And the others? How are they doing?”
“Tengel works hard to heal the sick – he tries to do no more than a few days each week, but it isn’t easy. Some have travelled a very long way and he’s never been able to turn anybody down. We had a horrible outbreak of the plague last winter, and he forbade the sick to come to our home because he didn’t want us to catch it. But they still came in swarms, much to Tengel’s dismay. We still pulled through, almost all of us. The Ice People are strong, as you know. Only your grandmother, the Dowager Baroness, succumbed.”
“Yes, I know. I miss her dreadfully.”
“Me, too,” said Sol in a low voice. “She was a fine old lady. Tengel was also very sad as they were very close to one another. But there’s something strange about Tengel. It’s as if time doesn’t seem to show on him.”
“Do you remember Hanna?” Dag asked. “She became incredibly old.”
“Do I remember Hanna?” Sol repeated with a hint of pain in her voice. Then she pulled herself together and laughed loudly. “Of course! I’ll grow to be very old too. I’ll outlive you all!”
“We’ll see,” answered Dag, strangely ill at ease. “And Silje. How are things with her?”
“Silje is the same as ever. Happy and content so long as she has Tengel. She paints and does so many other things. She’s probably put on a bit of weight, but it suits her. And ... by the way! I haven’t told you about it, but Liv has a serious boyfriend!”
Dag stopped suddenly on the cobbled street causing a horse and cart to brake sharply behind them. They jumped to one side.
“What?” he exclaimed. “But she’s only a child, for heaven’s sake!”
“She’s sixteen, almost seventeen, and so gentle and sweet you wouldn’t believe it. Silje wasn’t much older when she fell in love with Tengel.”
Dag wasn’t listening. His face was rigid. “My little sister has a serious boyfriend? What sort of man is he, if I may ask?”
“Don’t get so agitated. Well, what can I say? He’s from a very good family – not of noble birth, but then, Liv is a commoner herself. But his parents are very rich. Merchants. The father is dead and Laurents is carrying on the business.”
“And what do you make of him?”
Sol shrugged her shoulders. “He’s not quite my cup of tea,” she answered evasively.
They continued walking, but Dag didn’t say anything for quite a long time. He always put great faith in what Sol believed about people because nobody was as perceptive as her. “And Liv? What does she say?” He broke off, raising his voice, “Sol, you don’t have to lift your skirt that high. It’s not that filthy here!”
“Well, Liv doesn’t speak so much about it, so I honestly don’t know what she thinks. And we hear that you also plan to get married. Will it be soon?”
“Me? Who says so?”
“Charlotte. We understand that it’s to a certain Miss Trolle.”
“Did my mother say that? To Liv as well?”
“To all of us. She was overjoyed.”
“Oh dear, oh dear,” laughed Dag, but with a hint of resignation. “In a few letters I only mentioned that she was among my circle of friends and that she’s a sweet and nice girl. Yes, I’m interested, but she’s not the only one. I haven’t seen her for weeks! My mother is such a busybody.”
This was all he said, so Sol continued the conversation.
“Are is such a nice boy. He’s so self-assured and kind. More down-to-earth than the rest of us. He’ll do well.”
“Absolutely. I miss them all so much. And what about you, Sol? Have you any suitors?”
“Me?” she laughed as they turned off the main street and into an elegant street. “No. Where would they come from?”
“Oh come on. You’re exaggerating. You must have a swarm of admirers, surely?”
Now she became serious. “I might have, but they don’t interest me. Sometimes it frightens me, Dag, because I don’t seem to be able to fall in love with anybody.”
He looked at her thoughtfully without saying anything. Then he said gently: “You just haven’t found Mr. Right yet. And, anyway, I know that you’re able to love other people.”
“Oh, my closest family, yes. But for me, Tengel overshadows all other men. Not that I’m in love with him. Of course I’m not – but you see, he’s my ideal. Nobody can measure up to him. I compare all young men with him an
d they all fall hopelessly short of the mark.”
“I can well believe they do. After all, there’s only one Tengel.”
“Yes, and that is precisely what makes it so frustrating.”
Dag was deep in his own thoughts. “Now I’m tempted to say that you’re looking for a father figure because you’ve never had a father yourself. But that isn’t how it is. It isn’t a man with Tengel’s virtues you want but someone with his authority and demonic ways!”
“You’re absolutely right,” Sol said crestfallen.
“Let me tell you one thing, dear sister,” Dag went on quietly, “the power Tengel has doesn’t come from within him. He draws it from Silje.”
Sol was quiet for some time. “Yes,” she said at long last. “But her strength depends on his love for her.”
“That’s also true.”
“So neither of them is complete without the other.”
“No. We’ve been very lucky, you and I, that we’ve grown up in such a home. Anyway, here we are! This door here!”
“My, this is certainly an elegant home,” Sol said as she admired the half-timbered walls and the fan-shaped decoration painted in gold and blue above the door.
“Yes, and the people I live with are nice. You’ll have your own room while you’re here. Unfortunately, you’ve arrived at a difficult time. They’ve just lost their young son.”
“Is he dead?”
“No, he’s lost. He disappeared three days ago.”
“Oh, how awful,” said Sol. “That’s worse than anything else.”
“Yes, the uncertainty. His poor mother is almost out of her mind with worry. They’ve searched everywhere, even the canals around here but without success. Now they believe that somebody has taken the child. There’s no trace of him.”
They entered the house and couldn’t discuss the matter any further. The husband and wife came out to the door to greet them. Dag hadn’t exaggerated: The young mother’s hands were trembling visibly and her face showed that she had shed a great many tears.
Dag introduced them to one another in a gentle voice. “This is my stepsister, Sol Angelica, and these are my kind hosts, Count and Countess Strahlenhelm.”
“Your sister is adorable,” the Count exclaimed and greeted Sol, who dropped a low curtsey. “Have you seen those eyes, Henriette? I’ve never seen this colour of eyes before. They’re the colour of amber!”
His wife could do no more than offer a wan smile and nod.
Sol couldn’t help admiring her clothes. She wore a ruff the size of a mill wheel around her neck and a pearl-embroidered bonnet and, beneath her brocade dress she must have been wearing an enormous farthingale because her hips were so wide she could comfortably rest her arms on it.
The Count said to Dag: “Perhaps you’ll show Sol to her room. Then we’ll serve a light meal shortly. But please excuse my wife. She’ll have to retire because she can’t cope with too much at the moment.”
“Of course, I quite understand,” said Sol quietly.
At that very moment, a strong, unfamiliar feeling seized her. There was an invisible sensation that made her extremely agitated and made her turn quite impatient.
The Countess left the room with a handkerchief pressed to her face.
When she’d left, Sol turned to the Count.
“The room can wait. Maybe I can help you find the child.”
“Sol!” exclaimed Dag with a warning glance. The Count raised his hand, asking him to be quiet. “What do you mean by that, young lady?”
“Dag, I know that I shouldn’t say anything, but you must understand that this is urgent!”
“What are you talking about?” asked the Count. “Do you know something?”
Dag intervened. “This is very dangerous for my sister. I don’t doubt for a moment that she can help, but she could pay for it with her life. Everything depends on your discretion.”
“Will you please both explain?”
“You already noticed my sister’s eyes, Count Strahlenhelm. She wasn’t blessed with them for nothing. If Sol says that the matter is urgent, it means she can feel that the child is alive, at least at this very moment. The fact that she waited until your wife had left the room shows that she knows that she wouldn’t be able to keep her silence.”
The Count looked blankly from one to the other.
“My child’s life is more important than anything else.”
“Will you swear that you’ll never speak about what you’ll now come to experience?” asked Sol. She was so impatient that she could hardly keep quiet. “That you won’t denounce me?”
“I swear.”
“Very well. Then give me something, a piece of clothing which the child has worn recently and which hasn’t been washed since he wore it. But remember: I can’t guarantee that I’ll find him, but I’ll do my best.”
The tall, slender man let out a deep sigh. “I beg you, Miss Sol. I’ll thank you on my bended knee for even the slightest hint of where he is.”
“Can I then trust that you’ll be discreet?”
“I know perfectly well what will happen with you if the authorities were to hear about your ... abilities. Actually, my wife had already said that she wished that I could find a ... so-called ‘wise woman.’ But we didn’t know of any and didn’t dare enquire. Let my gratitude be the guarantor of my silence!”
“And what if I don’t succeed in tracing your son?”’
“Then you’ll have my gratitude for trying. But what if my wife or one of the servants should find out that you’re involved?”
Sol rummaged her pockets. “Give this sleeping medicine to your wife immediately! Make sure she drinks it all. And please order your servants to leave us alone.”
The Count gave Dag a curious look. “This is something you’ve kept to yourself, Dag.”
Dag cut a grimace. “It’s something that one doesn’t speak about openly, Your Honour.”
“No, I’m sure you’re right.”
The Count hurried out with the powder in his hand.
“You shouldn’t have done this, Sol,” Dag mumbled.
“Why not?”
He sighed. “Yes, if this turns out well, you’ll have a friend for life. And he’s powerful, Sol! Much more powerful than you imagine.”
“Really? Who is he then?”
“A judge. One of the most powerful men in the Danish judiciary.”
“Oh dear,” said Sol, putting her hand to her mouth. “I’ve really made a fine mess of things.”
“Well, well. Then it’s no surprise that he doesn’t know of any wise women because he’s sentenced them all to death! That’s why I asked you to keep quiet.”
“But Dag, I couldn’t stop doing something about it. I sensed that the child was alive and that it suffered. I could feel it in the whole room. It was as if all the walls cried out to me.”
“Then, for everybody’s sake, I just hope you’ll find the little boy,” Dag said in a worried voice.
Chapter 2
The Count returned after a few minutes. “I’ve given my wife the sleeping medicine,” he said abruptly. “I’ve also told the servants that we don’t want to be disturbed. You’re right – Henriette is so emotional, she’d speak too quickly and too loudly about things that are best kept quiet. I’ve found a small toy which my son always cradles in his arms when he sleeps. Everything else has been laundered.”
Sol took the soft ragged doll. “It’s made from cloth, which is fine. May I sit down?”
“But of course. Please forgive my lack of courtesy.”
Sol sat down and said: “Now I must ask you to be absolutely silent.”
The room was as silent as the grave. Not even the sounds from the street outside could be heard. The room was dead silent for quite some time. Sol held the ragged doll to her face. She sat motionless with
closed eyes.
Finally she began to speak. Her voice was monotonous, and she almost whispered. “Darkness ... cold ... not much room.”
The Count was just about to ask whether the boy was alive but restrained himself.
“He’s sleeping,” said Sol in her normal voice. “Or he may be unconscious. I can’t tell. I sense anxiety and great fear and loneliness. But this was a while ago. Now he doesn’t feel anything.”
‘Oh, God,’ thought Count Strahlenhelm. He didn’t dare to think any further. Everything seemed so unreal to him and then this woman, on whom he should pass judgment, had brought him hope in his despair. What was he to do? No, at this very moment he was a father more than anything else. His profession was totally irrelevant here. In an instant, it had ceased to exist.
Nevertheless, something troubled his mind and conscience. He could hardly cope with the thought that he found it difficult to escape from: What about all the other “wise women” he’d sentenced, showing no mercy at all in the name of justice?
Then he realised that Sol was talking again, mostly a mixture of questions to them and words that she wanted confirmation of.
“He’s blonde with thin, downy hair. He’s between one and two years old – closer to two, I’d say. He’s dressed in velvet. Purple velvet. A wide lace collar.”
The Count cast a questioning and surprised glance at Dag.
“I haven’t told her anything,” whispered Dag.
It was as if the unfortunate father took courage from these words. He straightened his back and new hope shone in his eyes, which showed that he hadn’t slept properly for several days. He was quite a handsome man in his way, much older than his wife; slim and well dressed, with a sharp eye. He looked in excitement at his exceptional guests.
The Stepdaughter Page 2
