“To the count’s stables, you mean? That would be a very stupid thing to do.”
“No, no – I mean my home.”
Hmm! Well, even Klaus had to come from somewhere, thought Sol. Maybe she’d always thought of him as a changeling who’d appeared from some soggy bog like a troll and been left to plod unhappily around in the world of humans.
“But what will your family say?”
“I don’t have a family. Nobody lives there as far as I know.”
This news made Sol smile. “So why are we standing here waiting – is it far?”
“It’s a bit of a distance.”
It certainly was ‘a bit of a distance’, and it wasn’t until the next evening that they reached the wretched little hut high up on the side of a mountain. Sol wanted to know what part of Norway they were in, but Klaus had no idea. All he could tell her was that his home was called Plassen - ‘The Place’. All Sol could make out was they were somewhere north and west of Oslo and Linden Avenue – and quite a good distance from them as well.
The timbers of the small building had stood up well and Sol and Klaus quickly began to clear up the hut and make it comfortable, tidy and warm. They lit a fire and that evening, Klaus was able to relive his dream. Afterwards, as they fell silent, Klaus lay quietly with Sol in his arms, shedding silent tears of joy.
And Sol? Well, she was actually a little moved. Klaus was still fond of her in an uncomplicated, down-to-earth sort of way. He asked nothing of her, accepted everything she did – and he was also physically very well endowed! If any man on earth was able to love Sol for her own sake, it was Klaus. Or was he only attracted to her beauty? No, she mustn’t doubt – not Klaus!
She reflected that Klaus would do for the time being because, to be honest, she had very little choice now that she was too well known to show herself in public.
For a short moment, she yearned for the man at the inn, who was the real lover of her secret fantasies – the Prince of the Underworld.
Somehow Sol knew deep inside herself that one day she’d see him again.
***
No one at Linden Avenue had any idea what had happened to Sol. She’d just disappeared from the new house. When they asked the household staff, a maid told them that she’d simply gone out shopping and hadn’t returned. “Ah! Sol will always be Sol,” said Tengel, putting on a brave face, but the fact was that they’d all worried themselves half to death during the previous week. “I suppose she just wanted to head off somewhere.”
“Yes, I’m sure she has,” answered Dag, who’d come to visit, bringing his Mum and Jacob Skille. “That would be typical of Sol.”
Liv was quietly seated at Dag’s side, looking at him discreetly from time to time. Outwardly she’d got over her depression but in her subconscious mind she carried a burden of guilt, planted there so cruelly by Laurents and his mother.
Somehow a disastrous marriage always feels like a defeat, even for the innocent party, and this wasn’t easy to hide. Liv was one of the few religious members of the family and it was obvious that she felt she was a failure although she was now sometimes able to smile at the world.
Then Liv suddenly said: “I really miss Sol and it was so nice sharing a room with her. She was marvellous when I suffered from nightmares. Some nights she’d comfort me as a mother comforts her child and other nights she’d scold me for being so stupid as to believe their evil lies. Now there’s nobody to comfort me at night. Sometimes I just wish I were dead.”
The others stared at her in disbelief.
“Do you suffer from nightmares, Liv?” asked Silje, shocked.
At that moment, it was as if Liv had been talking to herself. Now she came to herself again.
“What? Yes, I do suffer from evil dreams. Now I can’t fall asleep again after them because Sol isn’t here.”
“But, my dear Liv, we mustn’t allow this to torment you,” said Charlotte indignantly. “Please forgive me if I am being too personal, but I happen to know that there’s nothing Dag would love more than to marry you. Why don’t you accept now?”
“Now?” said Liv, her eyes wide open with surprise. “It’s much too soon.”
“But you desperately need somebody who can take care of you.”
Liv looked at the floor. “Or for someone that I can take care of so that I don’t become too self-absorbed,” she said quietly.
“You’re most welcome to take care of me,” said Dag with a smile.
“Would that really be wise, so soon after Laurents’ death?” objected Silje, who in spite of everything, was the most conventional of them all. “What I mean to say is: Won’t people be unpleasant to you so soon after Laurents’ death?”
Charlotte looked at Silje for a long moment. “I’ve never liked gossip and rumours, but this time I plan to start some rumours of my own. I’ll overwhelm our neighbours and friends with tales of how horrible Laurents and his mother really were. Then they’re bound to feel sympathetic towards Liv – and Liv does deserve their sympathy! I’ll tell them of the awful loneliness and the nightmares. I’ll tell everyone how much love she has to share and how much Dag loves her.”
Silje nodded: “Some people are bound to gossip – but I think the majority will be tolerant. But what about the priest?”
“I’ll take care of the priest,” said Charlotte. “After I donated that beautiful candelabra to his church, he wouldn’t dare object. Otherwise I’ll take it back!”
Dag smiled. “Mum, you’re terrific!”
“It shouldn’t be a big wedding, though,” said Silje.
“Why do you decide all this without asking me?” said Liv in a desperate whisper. “Don’t you understand that I can’t marry again? Never ever again? I’m useless, hopeless, and not worthy of anyone’s love. Besides, I can’t get pregnant.”
“Now, now!” said Tengel. “You can’t be sure of that. It could just as well have been Laurents’ fault.”
Dag butted in: “None of us here thinks that you’re useless or hopeless. Surely you know that?!”
“There’s nobody capable of so much as you, Liv,” said Charlotte. “You’re the perfect housewife; you’re artistic and very intelligent. You’re also very good with figures.”
“And you’re filled with unending love for all living creatures,” said Tengel. “You’re always such a ray of sunshine! We’re the ones who drove you into that awful marriage, Liv. Can you ever forgive us?”
Liv gazed at them with an unhappy, almost desperate look in her eyes.
“You can say whatever you want to,” she said in a tense voice. “I can’t ever marry again!”
Dag was saddened to hear this. “Don’t you want me at all, Liv? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
Because she’d been pushed too far, Liv began to sob uncontrollably.
“There’s nothing ... nothing in the world ... I’d rather do. But he destroyed me. He destroyed ... everything for me!”
Dag pulled her gently towards him. “Come, Liv!” he said gently. “Everything will fall into place in the end. Turning to the others, he said quietly: “I’ll take Liv with me for a little walk. We need to talk to each other in private.”
They all nodded in agreement, giving them both a warm smile as they rose to leave.
Liv and Dag went into the next room. When they were alone, Dag said: “Sol told me what Laurents had done to you. The way he’d crushed your desire for physical love. I accept that, Liv. I understand that you’ll resist your feelings – or just be completely passive.”
“But that wouldn’t be fair to you, Dag.”
He gave her a tender smile.
“Let’s just say that it’ll be a challenge. You see, I know how much warmth – fire even – there is within you. Give me a chance, Liv, for me to set it free again – even if it takes many years.”
She laughed, sniffing back her tears, pr
essing her forehead against his cheek. “I can’t bear to be alone with my thoughts any longer. I so desperately need to be close to you, more than I can put into words.”
“This is exactly what everyone has been trying to get into your head for a long time.”
“But how can I allow myself to be so selfish! What if I’m never again as I was?”
“Liv, please listen to me,” Dag said in a serious tone of voice. “Please, just listen ...”
At that moment Silje was in the parlour, sighing loudly and shaking her head in confusion. “I’m so worried,” she said. “Both our girls are faced with big problems. It’s awful when we can’t help them more.”
Are took a deep breath, then suddenly stood up and announced: “Tomorrow I’ll ride to Oslo and try to find Sol.”
“No, Are. You mustn’t go,” said Tengel. “We need you here on the farm. I was about to say that I’ll go.”
At that moment Dag and Liv returned to the parlour, walking hand in hand. Everybody turned to look at them with expectant expressions. For a moment there was a hush in the room.
“We’ll give it a try!” said Dag. “We’ll do our very best!”
Liv said nothing, but she was no longer staring hopeless at the floor, and they could all detect a faint glimmer of hope in her eyes that made them all so very happy.
***
Tengel travelled to Oslo as he’d promised. He looked everywhere but couldn’t find any trace of Sol – at least not until he happened to hear somebody speak about the ‘cat-eyed witch who’d escaped from her final journey to the stake.’
When he heard this, Tengel was seized by feelings of panic, but he was too scared to ask too many questions. It would seem that the witch had managed to escape and had disappeared from the surface of the earth. That was enough of an answer for him. It wasn’t much to go on, but the person referred to might have been Sol. Although Tengel was deeply worried, he paused in a quiet part of Oslo and silently prayed for Sol with all his heart.
Then he rode back home where he knew he would face all the other worries that were waiting there. First and foremost, it was Dag who had problems – with the lumber business. He was bitterly disappointed by everybody and everything. He’d started with the best of intentions, improving the work conditions of his workers and the peasants who came to sell their timber. So what exactly had happened?
Other peasants had heard of his new steps, his business and his honesty and so they came to him because they wanted to sell their timber at a decent price. But Dag couldn’t buy more because he had more timber than he needed, and so in the end the peasants were forced to sell again to their usual sawmills, the owners of which were angry at Dag. The Timber Guild condemned Dag. Labourers queued to be given a job by Dag, and the authorities wouldn’t listen to Dag’s criticism of the high taxes.
So in a very short time, young Dag had learned swiftly and painfully that it isn’t always easy to do something for the underdogs in society.
On Linden Avenue, the faithful Meta followed Are everywhere like a loyal dog. She was there all through fall, plowing, helping with the calving and raking up leaves with him in the yard as eagerly as though the leaves were of pure gold.
Are often sighed at her exaggerated eagerness to help, but he never scolded her any more.
***
Sol found it amusing to live in Klaus’ primitive little cottage – for a short while. They had very little in common except at night. Sol also enjoyed tidying all the rubbish and making it cozy for Klaus. Every day he went out fishing or picking frozen cowberries. They didn’t have much to live on but they managed.
Of course, Sol knew that this couldn’t last. Klaus was happy right now but soon remorse and concern for the future would hit him. And Sol wasn’t the world’s most patient person! The old restlessness would no doubt begin to haunt her before long. Actually, she’d already had enough of Klaus – he had nothing more to give her.
There was something else that had begun to worry her. The first time she’d seen Klaus naked, she’d been shocked to see his body covered in scars. They bore terrible witness to the many cuts and blows that the poor boy had received since leaving Charlotte’s Graastensholm. The worst was a nasty, festering sore across his buttocks and one thigh where the flesh had become inflamed and swollen. Klaus said that the scars came largely from a whipping he’d been given for giving a sick horse too much fodder. After that he’d been forced to strip off and take his punishment in the most humiliating way. It didn’t count at all that the extra fodder had actually helped the horse recover – there was to be no waste in those stables!
Sol cleaned and dressed his wound as best she could, but the infection had gone deep and the wound oozed fresh yellow pus all the time. What’s more, the small supply of medicines from her bag was almost all gone.
When Klaus awoke one morning, he found that he was unable to get up. He had a high fever and his leg was so badly swollen that he couldn’t bend it. Sol gave him a real witch’s brew, using nearly all the ingredients she had left. It helped for a few hours but didn’t cure the problem.
Then came the snow.
One morning, when she stepped outside, the ground was so white that she was quite blinded for a few moments. They’d eaten the last of the food two days earlier and she’d thought of leaving Klaus on his own for a while to go fishing in the small lake. But that was impossible now.
Klaus was practically unconscious inside the hut.
Sol stood looking down at him for a long time, deep in thought.
She still had the means to end his suffering and his wretched life. He meant nothing to her any more – and had been nothing more than a bedfellow.
Even in bed he didn’t really mean anything to her because she knew there was only one who could awaken her lust, but she had to admit Klaus had been quite amusing while it lasted. He was wild and powerfully built – and in love with her. That had been sufficient for Sol for a while.
But he was still only a vulnerable innocent soul on this miserable earth.
She lifted her head and looked around the cottage, which was little more than four walls and a roof. Then memories of the man from the inn flooded into her mind again. Why didn’t he come to find her? No, she thought, he couldn’t know that she was trapped here in this wilderness. He was probably waiting impatiently for her somewhere.
But if he really was the Prince of Darkness and had come to visit her, he was bound to know where she was. That was obvious.
So why didn’t he come?
Sol got a haunted look in her eyes and then she collected her thoughts. What was she doing here with this miserable Klaus? Why wasn’t she out in the world? She took her small leather bag of herbs, thoughtfully shifting her glance from the bag with its mystical objects and poor Klaus, who was moaning with pain. Should she end his suffering? She asked herself the question very calmly as her gaze moved slowly back and forth from her leather bag to him.
***
She made up her mind and shortly afterwards she was on her way down the mountain, moving resolutely toward a place where there was habitation.
She wasn’t alone.
The path was almost vertical and the few trees that grew there were clinging to the rocks with knotted roots.
Unable to find a proper sledge, she’d turned one of her benches from the hut upside down and placed Klaus between its upturned legs. Now she was pulling Klaus and the crude sledge slowly down the steep path.
She hadn’t given him anything that could speed up his death. It wasn’t necessary. At any rate, it seemed to move in that direction. She just felt that she couldn’t leave him alone up there and if this was to be his final journey, he was at least to have a Christian burial. She knew that he had a strong faith in God. She wasn’t yet sure that this would be his final journey, but he looked awful. The blood poisoning had spread throughout his whole body, thoug
h his young face was still smooth and handsome. The dumb sheepish expression had changed and his skin had taken on an immaculate, almost angelic colour and this reminded Sol of a quotation from the Bible:
“Blessed are the meek for they shall see God,” or something along those lines. The Bible had never been one of her strong points.
Now she had only one thing on her mind, which was to bring Klaus to Tengel before it was too late. Not only did Tengel have the most powerful remedies, her own basic store of potions was there at Linden Avenue.
Just thinking the name Linden Avenue gave her a pang of sorrow. Why had she never been able to relax there? What was it in her that drove her further and further away? And now she’d never be able to live there again – she’d lost that right so that her family might live in peace.
Sol fought and tugged at the makeshift sledge as she tried to get it down the path without hitting trees or running off the track into the void below. She dug her heels in and slithered long stretches, holding on to its sides for dear life. She cursed when it almost collided with a stone and turned over. All the while she was worried that Klaus was being thrown around so much.
Then at one critical point things went badly wrong. The bench rolled over and Klaus was tipped out, ending face down in the snow. Sol struggled to lift him, but eventually got him back onto the sledge.
The journey continued, sometimes an inch at a time, sometimes quite swiftly, so that she almost couldn’t keep up with the makeshift sledge herself. At one point, she sat up on the bench with Klaus in her arms. The snow sprayed back into her face and it ended badly when they both landed in the snow, and she had to begin the difficult task of putting him back in his place once more. While Sol did all this, Klaus was deeply unconscious – maybe already dead.
‘You’re having a grim journey to your final resting place,’ she thought as she settled him properly. She’d already lost track of the path and was now just heading in a general downhill direction.
The Stepdaughter Page 21
