She would have to teach him! Show him where she liked to be caressed and how she could be aroused.
She found her headache quite unbearable. But that was undoubtedly the price she’d have to pay for her pleasure. But she decided that she’d try to get rid of it.
She rummaged through her bag until she found something that she took, and she slept through the whole night.
***
The next morning Sol felt well again but was no longer so sure that she’d want to relive her experience very soon. Anyway, she wanted to find a way to protect herself from the after-effects. And poor Meta would be waiting. With a guilty conscience, Sol rode quickly through the woods of the Linderod Ridge to the peaceful place by the river.
She arrived to find everything very quiet. Alarmingly quiet. The surface of the pool was calm. All that could be heard was a bubbling waterfall by the rocks, and everything was bathed in shimmering sunlight.
But there was no sign of life anywhere!
Sol turned icy cold. What if her selfishness had driven the poor girl away into a hostile wilderness? Or – what if dangerous animals actually existed here?
“Meta?” she shouted at the top of her voice. “Meta. It’s me, Sol.”
Something moved on top of the rocks. Then, on a crevice high up, a small figure appeared.
“Oh, thank God, Meta, you really frightened me.” Sol heaved a sigh of relief. “I thought you’d panicked and run away.”
Meta had very sensibly taken shelter in the crevice, knife at the ready, and she’d gathered some big stones she could hurl at any possible attacker.
Now she climbed carefully down.
“You could have fallen from up there,” said Sol, jumping off her horse. “How are you?”
Meta was very pale. “The forest was so horrible at night, and the moon stared at me.”
“But surely you’re used to being alone?”
“Not so far away from other people.”
“Is there any food left? I’m famished.”
Meta looked as if she had a guilty conscience. She had eaten most of the supplies. With a sigh, Sol ate half of what remained, and when they’d eaten, they left the place.
“How far is it from here to Fulltofta?”
“Oh, it’s a long way in that direction.”
“That way?” said Sol, surprised. “This will be a long way around and we haven’t got time for that. I’m to meet ... eh ... one of my travel companions, and I’m already late. What about Bosjö Monastery then?”
“It’s in the same direction, only much further away.”
“Well, then, it’ll have to be Vittskövle.”
Meta didn’t answer. She sat on the horse behind Sol – she was allowed to do that now that she’d been washed clean and the lice combed out of her hair. Whenever Sol spoke to her, Meta would answer with only one or two words.
So they rode on in silence until Sol couldn’t stand the atmosphere any longer.
“What’s the matter with you?” demanded Sol sharply.
The little girl hesitated, shaken by Sol’s tone. “They say that the old lady at Vittskövle treats her servant girls harshly. I’m afraid of going there.”
“And who is this old lady?”
“She’s Gjörvel Faddersdotter. She’s been married three times and now she’s the widow of one of the noble Brahe family. They say that she’s the richest person in all of Scania. Although she’s more than ninety years old, she still checks everything with the eye of a hawk. Let me be your chambermaid instead! I’d do everything you ask of me.”
“My what?” stammered Sol, taken aback.
“Or something less, if I’m not worthy of such a job. A servant – anything – as long as I can stay with you.”
Sol couldn’t help giggling. Chambermaid! Where did Meta get her ideas from?
Then Sol said quietly, “Meta, now listen. I’m just an ordinary girl – well, maybe not entirely normal – and not at all of noble birth. I’m never in one place long enough to take care of you. But you’ll not be going to Vittskövle. We’ll find somewhere else for you to stay.”
“It doesn’t matter that you’re not of noble birth. I don’t need a salary. Can’t I work for you to repay all the good you’ve done for me?”
Unexpectedly, Sol felt irritated at being called good. Sometimes she could take it, but at other times it annoyed her immensely.
“I did so because I wanted to,” said Sol impatiently.
They rode in silence for quite some time.
“Won’t you, please?” Meta squeaked miserably. “Please!”
Then Sol got a bright idea. Silje, she thought. Or Charlotte? They were always at home and both had servants. Maybe they could help?
Then again, to drag young Meta over fields and through forests ... all the way to Norway? To take her from her native Scania and her family ...
Well, she didn’t have any family, but even so ...No, it couldn’t be done!
“Let’s wait and see,” answered Sol.
What will Jacob say? she thought to herself. I’ve so been longing to see him again.
***
As they reached Haväng, a short distance from Brosarps Backar, Sol caught sight of a rider coming towards them on the beach. Before long, she could see that it was Jacob Skille.
He stopped the horse.
“Hello,” said Sol. “Are you here already?”
“Yes, I couldn’t wait any longer.”
He stopped as he saw Meta’s worried eyes peering from behind Sol’s back. His expression changed to disappointment.
“This is Meta,” said Sol quickly. “She’s homeless, and I’m trying to find a place for her with some kind people.”
He gave a sullen nod and turned his horse.
He looks so ordinary, thought Sol. He’s strong and masculine, of course, but he’s pretty insignificant compared to the Prince of Darkness.
Well, it was nice to see him. There was still much they had to do and talk about.
Jacob told Sol that there was no need to travel to Glimmingehus because they could take a shortcut right across Scania. “It’ll be quicker and easier,” he added.
“Aren’t we supposed to pick up Jorgen as well?”
“Yes, it’s on the way.”
They passed some large estates, but in each case Meta managed to find a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t be looking for a job on them: there were ghosts, or the estate was empty. Sol realised only too well that Meta couldn’t know anything about these places, but she didn’t contradict Meta.
They spent the night in a barn in a deserted farm out in the country where nobody could see them. Meta proved herself a nuisance because she wanted to hold Sol’s hand all the time: She was scared that her heroine would disappear once more. Jacob was immensely irritated and did nothing to hide his feelings.
The hay rustled at the slightest movement. In the semi-darkness, Jacob had wriggled closer to Sol. When he heard that Meta’s breathing had become calm and deep, he began to caress Sol gently over her cheeks.
“I’ve missed you dreadfully,” he whispered in her ear.
“Hush,” she whispered back.
“She’s sleeping. Let’s go outside.”
Sol sat up, resting on her elbow, and at once Meta lifted her head.
“What’s the matter? Where are you going?”
“Nowhere,” answered Sol in a resigned tone. “I was just making myself comfortable for the night.” She gave Meta’s hand a squeeze. “I’ll be here all night.”
Meta fell asleep once more.
“I’ve been looking forward so much to seeing you again,” whispered a disappointed Jacob.
“Me too,” whispered Sol.
“This is our only chance. Tomorrow we’ll meet up with Jorgen, and then we can’t be alone ...”
; “Jacob, I had no other choice ...”
“If you plan to pick up every beggar girl ...”
“It was totally different with Meta. I can’t speak about it now. Do try to get some sleep! We have a long distance ahead of us tomorrow.”
“But I need to be alone with you now, Sol!”
“I know and I feel the same, but we can’t be alone right now. Goodnight.”
He placed his arm around her waist. Sol pushed it away gently but firmly.
Then she heard him mutter a whole series of oaths. Then he turned his back demonstratively to her.
***
Sol woke up when dawn was about to break. Then she sat up.
“Jacob,” she shouted. “Meta’s disappeared.”
He turned over. “Well, thank goodness. Now we’re alone at long last.”
“Don’t be so selfish. We must find her again.”
“Why? Let her leave if that’s what she wants. Girls like her have nine lives.”
“Not Meta. She’s as helpless as a newborn baby. When I found her, she was dressed in rags, she hadn’t had anything to eat for a week, and a dozen, strong, strapping soldiers had tied her up and were in the middle of raping her. From behind!”
“Oh, my God! Why didn’t you say anything about this?”
“When would I have had the opportunity for that? She’s been at my side the whole time. That’s why I refused your attentions last night. I didn’t want her to be reminded of the soldiers.”
Sol stood up. “Look, Jacob. She’s placed a bouquet of flowers where she lay. Poor little Meta. I suppose it’s her way of showing gratitude.”
“Yes, but why did she run off all of a sudden?”
“I’ve no idea. We must find her.”
“Yes,” said Jacob. “I agree. We must also find some nice people that can employ her so that she has a roof over her head.”
“Thank you, Jacob.”
On their way towards the entrance of the barn, Sol put her hands around his neck.
“You’re gorgeous,” she whispered and kissed him gently. But Jacob pulled her roughly to him and kissed her with a desire that showed the craving he had for her.
Then they hurried out.
They left the barn and took all their things with them. Sol tucked the flowers in the horse’s bridle and they set off at speed across the fields and meadows along the same road that they’d come. They didn’t reckon that Meta would travel further along the road ahead of them.
She’d gone a long way but eventually they caught up with her. She was a pathetic little figure who was dragging herself along while she was weeping in despair. She was barely able to see through her tears.
Jacob jumped off the horse to mumble some words of comfort to her.
“But Meta, why did you walk away from us?”
Meta turned away. She was sobbing so violently that she was unable to answer.
“You frightened us ever so much,” said Sol calmly while Jacob lifted her up on the horse behind Sol.
“Now tell us why,” begged Sol.
“Thought ... it best ... that ... you were ... just the two .... of you,” she sobbed.
Damn, thought Sol, exchanging a glance with Jacob.
Meta had obviously heard them during the night.
Jacob was gentler than she thought he’d be.
“You got us both wrong yesterday, Meta. It wasn’t you we wanted to get rid of. Sol and I just have some things that we need to discuss in private, some secrets that have to do with Denmark. But that can wait.”
Dear me, thought Sol, our embraces have now become matters of state!
“I didn’t intend to call you a beggar girl,” he continued. “I was just tired and in a bad mood, and you say things you don’t mean to say when you’re like that. You know that, don’t you?”
Meta nodded and took a deep breath.
“Meta, have you seen how fine the horse looks with your flowers behind his ear?” Sol said, laughing. “You can be sure it’s proud of itself.”
Meta gave a cautious, shy giggle.
“What a pretty bunch of flowers you gathered. All the colours were so beautifully composed. Violets, rose-hips and meadow saxifrage.”
It occurred to Sol that Meta had probably taught herself the art so that she had something to sell at the roadside at an early age.
At that point, the path they were riding along had widened so that Sol was able to ride alongside Jacob.
Looking at Jacob with a cheerful expression, Sol went on to say: “Guess what, Meta? I’ve discovered that I don’t want to part with you at all. We missed you so dreadfully that I plan to bring you with me to Norway so that you can meet my lovely mum. What do you say to that?”
“Oh, Sol,” gasped Meta and hugged Sol so tightly she could hardly breathe.
“You know where Norway is, don’t you?”
“Ummm,” said Meta vaguely. “On the other side of the forest, maybe?”
“Well, in a way it is ... and then across the sea. We’ll be going by ship both day and night.”
“Oh, gosh, that’s dangerous!”
“Is it? What ghosts are you afraid of there, then?”
“The big sea snake. It’ll turn the boat over.”
“Not when I’m onboard,” said Sol gently. “But then, if you prefer to be in Scania ...”
Meta took such a deep breath that Sol could both hear and feel it. “No. I’ll come with you.”
Shortly afterwards, she felt how Meta had calmed down. “Thank you,” she whispered.
***
Things went exactly as Sol had predicted. It was difficult for Jorgen to tear himself away from the place – or, to be more correct, from the farmer’s daughter. Now that he’d recovered from his wounds and was in good health again, Jacob Skille was merciless in teasing him:
“Your sweetheart, Ottilia, is waiting for you at home. You must return to her, Jorgen.”
“Who? Oh, that pale-nosed prude! Well, I suppose I must. But I’ll soon be back here!”
They gave him time to say goodbye to the girl before they continued on their way westwards.
In Helsingborg, Jacob found a ship that could take the girls to Norway. Sol paid the skipper for herself and Meta and then they spent their last night before the trip to Norway in cheap lodgings at a hostel, which Jacob had found.
“That’s what I call perfect timing indeed,” he said. “You made it just in time. Half a day later and the boat would have already sailed.”
Jacob’s eyes turned sad and serious when he looked at Sol. But Sol was strangely restless. Her thoughts kept wandering to her extraordinary meeting with the figure of Satan, and she felt that she needed to be alone for a while. Suddenly she felt that her friends’ endless chatter irritated her. She didn’t feel she belonged. She was far more focused on a secret which she couldn’t share with others.
It was easier for Sol to slip out of her lodgings now. Meta trusted Sol’s intention to bring her to Norway. She was so fast asleep that Sol slipped out.
She saw that the moon was starting to wane, but it still shone over the vast fortress and its tower, Kärnan, which was the landmark of Helsingborg and St. Maria Church. Sol knew what she wanted: More than anything else, she needed to seek out her own world.
Jacob had told her about the ruins of the old dungeons where unfortunate souls could be heard at night – but he didn’t know precisely where they were. Sol had managed to find out during supper at the lodgings, which was why she now headed past the furthest outpost of the fortress, past the church and across the square. She didn’t stop to see whether anybody was following her.
But somebody was.
Sol walked eagerly through the town to the age-old ruins where she stopped.
Soon all this would be gone, she thought. It would sink into the
ground and disappear and be covered by grassy mounds of earth on which new houses would be built. A few new houses had already begun to creep inside the ruined walls. In a hundred years nobody would suspect they’d ever existed.
Windblown trees guarded the entrance and Sol walked quietly down some steps into a passage that lead between walls that had fallen down and were now overgrown with weeds. She came to a doorway where some children had obviously been playing because a broken hobbyhorse lay there.
Stepping over it, Sol entered a labyrinth of ruins, stopping for a moment to breathe in the fresh air. Then, without hesitation, she knew instinctively the direction she should follow.
She was forced to climb over heaps of fallen stones and to walk round pools of water that had formed beneath large gaping holes in the roof.
At last she reached a crypt-like room where the air was thick with the past suffering of the dead.
She was certain that this was bound to be the notorious dungeon.
The moon shone through a large crack in the roof above her head, and Sol sat on a weed-covered pile of earth in the middle of the room. In the corners she caught a glimpse of something white, which had to be the bones from some of the dead bodies that lay half buried in the earth close to the old walls. She was sure hardly anyone had been here since the bodies had been buried.
She sat very quietly with her eyes shut, and shortly afterwards she could sense the voices of the dead – like a whispering chorus from past centuries. It didn’t matter to her at all whether they were real or whether they came from her imagination, because for her they were now part of her reality.
She answered them and spoke softly and gently. It was as if an invisible presence sat next to her on the earth. She felt completely at one with all these unfortunate beings. She understood them and they understood her.
“I feel lonely,” she whispered, “so dreadfully alone in this world that lacks imagination. It does me good to be with you because you truly know of a world beyond.”
One by one they appeared out of the darkness, the shadows of individuals that had been tortured to death many years ago. Shadows which highly sensitive people could sometimes just glimpse out of the corner of their eyes.
The Stepdaughter Page 14
