The Stepdaughter

by Margit Sandemo

And then the inevitable happened – a giant slope loomed before them.

  She would probably be able to climb down, crawling hand over hand, clinging to roots and rock, but what about the sledge?

  She stood for a while, considering her options.

  “Oh, well! It’s kill or cure. At least he’ll get down,” she mumbled quietly to herself. Then she gave the bench a gentle push and it began to slide downward on its own over the ice and snow.

  So long as it remains the right way up, maybe we’ll be fine, she thought. But what if it turns on its side ...?

  The old bench flew down. She stood and watched it slithering down this way and that, tipping and righting itself by turns. Without realising it, Sol’s fingernails were biting into the palms of her hands and her teeth were clenched.

  “Stay where you are,” she begged Klaus. “Stay still or you’ll roll into the snow and I mightn’t be able to reach you.”

  Then he fell out – but by then he was on more level ground where she could get to him. The bench continued careering down a long way until it finally came to rest against a tree on flat ground.

  “Hooray!” yelled Sol at the top of her voice, waving her arms in triumph. “We made it Klaus!”

  ***

  Sol trudged the valley at dusk on her way to Linden Avenue where she hadn’t been for so long. She knew she couldn’t make it today and it looked as if it was going to be a very cold night. She’d brought with her a rope to pull the ‘sledge’ but since it was old and had become tender, it had snapped many times during the trip. It was now as short as it could be and consisted mostly of knots.

  So at times she’d been forced to push from behind. She was exhausted and it didn’t make things any easier that she hadn’t had food for several days.

  Klaus hadn’t moved at all. She’d wrapped him up well and couldn’t see his face – and she didn’t want to see it either! After making sure that he was securely positioned between the upturned legs of the bench, Sol straightened up and looked about her. She was relieved when she realised that she knew where she was.

  She stood there for a long time. If she and Klaus were to survive, they needed to find shelter for the night – and soon. But would anyone welcome them? How far had the rumours of the witch with the yellow cat’s eyes travelled now?

  She could be making a fatal mistake.

  Then a twinkle came to her eyes. There was one man she knew who would probably give them shelter for the night – and not let her down. Or would he? Did she dare? Wouldn’t she be walking right into the wolf’s lair?

  Sol shuddered at the thought. She knew where he lived, the man that nobody spoke to, the man that everybody avoided, the man without a friend – and by now it wasn’t far to his place.

  He’d come to Linden Avenue one evening and stood in the shadows, waiting until all Tengel’s patients had been given their potions and left the farm. Then he appeared, dark and awful to watch, still dressed in his ‘official’ leather hood – he was the local executioner.

  He had injured his hand and Tengel and Sol had tended to the wound, asking him to come back the following night. He came the next night – and the next. Each time he’d sat watching Sol with a burning gaze while she dressed the hand. When she lifted her eyes to look at him, he’d turned his face away quickly, knowing only too well that nobody wanted to have anything to do with him. After that he never came back again.

  The executioner – surely he, of all people, would report her to the authorities? Wasn’t she his prey, after all?

  Sol didn’t think that he’d report her. She believed that she could handle him. Heaving a deep sigh, she took hold of the legs of the upturned bench and set off once more.

  Chapter 13

  Sol found the executioner’s hut without too much difficulty. It was situated some way into the forest and there were no other farms nearby. She walked boldly up the front path, banging on the door with icy hands.

  “Open up, executioner!” she shouted.

  “Who is it?” said a voice beyond the door.

  “I’m Sol, the stepdaughter of Tengel. I once treated a wound for you. Now I’m in need of help. My friend is hurt and we must have shelter for the night. Will you take us in?”

  Finally the door was opened slowly, just enough for a burning torch to be thrust outward. It lit up her face but she couldn’t see anything.

  Then he opened the door wide and let her in.

  “Can you help my friend?” she asked “He’s lying on the sledge just here. I don’t know if he’s dead or alive.”

  Without a word, the huge man took hold of Klaus and dragged him, then dropped him with a thump on the floor and closed the door.

  “Is he your boyfriend?” asked the executioner in a strained voice.

  “Boyfriend?” said Sol. “No, I’ve never had one – it’s not in my nature. He’s a dear friend and has suffered a lot because of me. Now I want to repay him for his kindness.”

  The man nodded. He appeared to have a stern face – the little that one was able to see of it. His eyes were fiery and dark and, as always, he wore the hood that covered his head and shoulders except for slits that were cut into it for his eyes and mouth. He wore a belt over his tunic and his trousers were tight-fitting. It was impossible to tell whether he was young or old. He seemed to Sol to have been alive since the world began and had never changed.

  They placed Klaus near the open fireplace to thaw him out and the executioner brought ale and bread for Sol and himself.

  They’d been eating for a while, without speaking, when Sol finally broke the long silence.

  “How much do you know about me, executioner?”

  He answered without looking up. “I know more than anyone. I know who the cat-eyed witch is, the one the authorities are searching for. But I haven’t said your name.”

  “Thank you,” said Sol.

  “Your stepfather is a good man. You and he helped me once without turning me away or insulting me.”

  They said nothing more and when they’d made a bed for Klaus – there was still some life in him – Sol was shown a bed in a tiny room, the only other room in the hut. She crawled under the covers, half-dead with exhaustion, aching in every joint.

  The executioner came and lay next to her but she was indifferent. Several times during the night she realised that he was using her body, but she was too tired to protest, and let him have his wish – he was a lonely man after all. Admittedly, he gave off a variety of male odours, but he had helped her. She thought: Let this be my way of showing him gratitude.

  ***

  In the morning, the executioner gave her a proper sledge on which to transport Klaus and in return Sol gave him the bench. Then he accompanied her as long as he could, pulling the sledge for her. They didn’t say many words, only what was absolutely necessary.

  At last she took leave of him with just one word. “Thanks,” said Sol.

  “And you, too,” he replied. He stood watching the two of them for a long time until they were out of sight.

  ***

  It was dark when at last she pulled the sledge up to Tengel and Silje’s farm on Linden Avenue.

  She had already faced unexpected difficulties because the snow had melted during the day and it hadn’t been so deep here on the lower ground. For most of the day, she’d pulled the sledge across grass and bare rocks, her nerves jangling every time the runners squealed – and all the while Klaus lay pale and still.

  Because it was late, the house was in darkness and seemed empty.

  First she tapped on Liv’s window – her old room – but Liv wasn’t there.

  Then she began to worry. She didn’t know what might have happened at Linden Avenue since she left. What if ...?

  But her second knock, on Are’s window, proved successful. He came out quickly and let her into the hall. His face lit up when he
saw her.

  “Sol!” he whispered. “Is it really you?”

  “Oh, yes, dear Are. It’s me – and it’s wonderful to see you again! Can you wake Tengel? I have a sick man with me. Please try not to wake Silje.”

  He nodded and left. Shortly afterwards a half-dressed Tengel appeared with Are in the dimly lit hallway.

  “Sol! My dear child! Welcome home!” he said tenderly, putting his arms around her.

  Without wasting any time, she told them about Klaus.

  The two men soon lifted him off the sledge and brought him inside.

  “Good heavens,” said Tengel in his familiar, reassuring voice she’d so longed to hear. “This doesn’t look good... I’ll take care of him now. Go and get some sleep – you look absolutely worn out!”

  “So I am, but I’ve got things to do now that I’m home again.”

  At that moment Silje came quietly walking down the stairs. There were more welcoming hugs and tears.

  When they’d recovered their composure, Tengel asked Sol:

  “Does it mean a lot to you if this man lives or not?”

  Sol thought before answering him: “Not in the way you mean,” she said. “But yes, it does. He’s been kind to me and he’s suffered cruelly at the hands of others.”

  “Then I’ll do my best for him,” said Tengel with a nod. “He’ll need it.”

  Just then Silje caught a glimpse of Klaus’s face. “My God,” she exclaimed. “It’s the stable boy who served at Graastensholm many years ago!”

  “You’re right,” replied Sol. “You tried to keep us apart but the inscrutable ways of Providence made us meet again.”

  Silje didn’t reply. She didn’t dare.

  Instead they gave Sol something to eat and she sat in the cozy kitchen between Silje and Are, who asked her a lot of questions. Meanwhile Tengel was alone with Klaus in the special room he used for treating his patients.

  Silje wanted to hear everything that had happened to Sol and where she’d been, but her answers were vague. Instead Sol wanted to know where Liv was.

  “Don’t you know? No, of course you don’t. Dag and Liv are now married and live at Graastensholm.”

  “Well, I never! That was quick! But well done – it’s the best thing that could have happened to them.”

  “It had to be – for Liv’s sake. She was miserable, Sol, and tormented. That awful Laurents took every ounce of self-confidence from her. Thank God he died. I know that sounds terrible to say, but I mean it.”

  Then my life hasn’t been in vain, thought Sol but aloud she said: “How’s Liv now?”

  “She’s getting better and better. I believe she’s getting over – well, you know.”

  “Not having any feelings when she sleeps with men, you mean?”

  “Sol!” exclaimed Silje in a shocked voice. “Now you’re very outspoken!”

  “Dear Silje, have you forgotten that I was the one who told you about it? Sometimes I wonder if you still believe that newborn babies lie under the gooseberry bushes!”

  “No, but it was because you said ‘men!’ About little Liv! Never mind – you’re so tired, my dear. Now you really need to get some sleep.”

  “I will, but then I must leave again.”

  “No, my dear child, why can’t we keep you here with us?”

  Silje’s words touched Sol. She was deeply moved to know that she was wanted.

  “I’m sorry, but sooner or later one of Tengel’s patients will be asked about the “cat-eyed witch. Then you’ll be drawn into everything. I have friends that I can turn to – and I’ll be safe.”

  Tengel had entered the room and heard the last bit of the conversation.

  “The bailiff’s men have already been here, Sol,” he told her quietly. “We only told them what we knew – that we hadn’t seen you for a long time.”

  “Then I must be gone from here tonight.”

  Tengel shook his head. “Go now and sleep. Sleep for as long as you can. Nobody will harm you in my house!”

  She didn’t argue with him but was grateful for all their compassion.

  ***

  Sol slept all that night and most of the following day. In the afternoon she met Liv, Dag, Charlotte and Jacob Skille, who’d all come down from Graastensholm to see her. They turned the whole day into a celebration of her return home.

  At one point Sol said to Liv: “It seems to be impossible for me to come to your wedding. Now I’ve missed two of them!” They hugged in silence for a long time and silent tears ran steadily down Liv’s cheeks.

  Little Meta was overjoyed to see Sol again and tears also ran down her young face.

  Charlotte and Jacob were also making preparations to marry, which Sol was very happy about. Dag was also very happy about this because he knew how lonely his mother had been – and would continue to be if he accepted the magistrate’s post he’d been offered in Akershus. Jacob had asked to resign from the military in order to start managing Graastensholm properly and he knew well how to work the farm.

  That evening with her family was one that Sol would never forget.

  Klaus was still alive although unconscious, but no worse than before.

  Sol asked Charlotte: “If he gets well soon, could he come and work for you? He spoke warmly of the short time he spent at Graastensholm. He said it was the only place he’d been treated well.”

  “I think he should. Don’t you all agree?”

  Both Dag and Jacob nodded in agreement.

  “But is he also wanted by the authorities?” asked Liv. “You did say that he helped you to escape, didn’t you?”

  “I don’t think they’re too bothered about him. Anyway, he has to live somewhere – and he suffered so terribly at the hands of the count. To be on the safe side, he can always stay hidden if the authorities make a visit.”

  Everyone agreed with her.

  “Can’t you stay until Christmas, Sol?” begged Silje.

  A shake of the head was the only reply. Everyone understood that it was impossible and very early the next morning, Tengel got up and woke Sol, as they’d planned. For a while they sat together in the kitchen as she ate one last meal. Then she promised him that she’d leave quietly and disappear once and for all from their lives.

  “Where will you go?” he asked softly.

  “To the Finnish lumberjacks. There are people like us among them, Dad. I’ll be okay there.”

  ‘But for how long?’ he thought in despair. ‘The restlessness in your blood will soon urge you to move away again.’

  “What are you really searching for, Sol?” he asked her. “Do you know?”

  “I didn’t know before. But now I do. It’s a man – I’ve only seen him once – but he’s a part of me. I can’t explain why.”

  “Do you think your search will be over when you meet him?”

  “Yes.”

  They sat again in silence for a while. Then Sol sighed a disheartened sigh.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She shivered. “I’m starting to lose control, Dad.”

  Tengel sat beside her on the kitchen bench and drew her to him.

  “How?”

  “Everything used to be such fun. I was always happy. I did exactly as I pleased. But now, although I’m still free to do so, it feels as if I’m walking in a field of mud.”

  “These things happen,” he said patiently. “Nobody can expect to live their life exactly as they wish.”

  She took a deep breath. “Why isn’t there someone like you for me – one of my own age?”

  “Even if you’d found someone, Sol, it wouldn’t have helped you. You’re too badly affected by our legacy.”

  “Yes, I know,” she whispered. “I feel like two different personalities, Dad!”

  In a sad voice Tengel said, “I’ve seen so
me of the Ice People trapped by their own evil. You’re a prisoner of your split personality. You can’t see it yourself, Sol, but you’ve changed a lot in your appearance.”

  “In what way?” she asked at once.

  “Don’t worry, you’re as beautiful as before. But your eyes – they have the wild look of a wolf and the frenzy of sorcery about them.”

  She sat up straight. “Then there’s only one thing I can do and that is to find that man. He’ll control me.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because ...”

  No, she couldn’t tell him about Blakulla. It would sound too absurd. “I just know.”

  Tengel stood up. “Go and find the Finnish lumberjacks, Sol! And if they can’t help, try Sweden. Nobody knows your background there.”

  “No, but for how long? It probably won’t be long before I’ll get the devil in me again and send someone to hell – or heaven – wherever they belong!”

  Tengel shook her gently. “You must stop doing these things, Sol! Try to control yourself. Try to think first!”

  “That’s exactly what I meant when I said that I’ve lost control! I’m completely indifferent to such things. What’s more, I’ve humiliated myself more than you can imagine, Dad!”

  He smiled at her. “But even so, you keep returning home with poor, unfortunate creatures you want to help! No, I understand what’s in you, Sol, and if I could help you ... But come home again when all is safe and this is forgotten – when you’ve found peace in your soul – promise me that!”

  “I promise. By the way, Dad... I’ll need money.”

  It was a relief for them both to change the subject to something more tangible.

  “You shall have it!”

  ***

  The weather had turned mild, almost balmy when Sol left home once more. She rode east toward Solor. She reckoned that the trip would take three days. How she was to find the Finns deep in the forests was another matter. She’d probably have to ask her way – if there were people to ask ...

  After she’d passed the outskirts of Oslo and rode along the River Glomma, she felt more at ease and safer. The rumours of her eyes would hardly have traveled this far.