The Ice People 3
Page 22
***
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 now 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’v
e 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!”
Tengel said in a sad voice. “I’ve seen some 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 have hardly have traveled this far.
On the evening of the second day, she plucked up courage and decided to spend the night at an inn where she had breakfast the following morning in the sunshine.
Once again she was dressed very elegantly, happy to be rid of the rags she’d worn these past months. Now if she wanted to, she could easily look like a lady.
Although she was travelling on her own, something women tended not to do, the innkeeper had received her well, and the breakfast was excellent. After having drunk a quart jug of wine, the world looked much better and Sol began to regain her old self-confidence.
In spite of everything, she felt sure that many exciting challenges still awaited her.
As she was sitting there in her own thoughts, she suddenly jumped out of her seat and stared through the upper half of the door to the inn. A rider had stopped outside. He got off his horse and tied it up, making sure that it was taken care of before he walked over to the inn.
It was him – the man she’d been searching for! The Prince of Darkness had taken human form once again – just to meet her? Always at an inn? Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier and avoided this long, impatient wait?
He wasn’t quite as elegantly dressed this time, but it was sufficiently elegant. Wide thigh boots and a lace collar that covered an elk-skin tunic. Now, without his hat, his beautiful blonde hair caught the breeze.
Disguised again! For Satan was as black as night. Yet she knew him – oh, yes she did! She recognised him from her dreams – his expression and the demonic glint in his eyes were things nobody could ignore.
He’d entered the room, but Sol was no longer looking in his direction. She sat so as to give the impression that she was preoccupied with her glass of wine, examining the way the light shone through the pale yellow liquid.
She sensed rather than saw the shadow that fell across the table.
“I knew we’d meet again.” The voice, when it spoke, was deep and full of promise.
Sol tried to appear confused as she looked up at him. At first she pretended not to understand, but then a slow smile came to her. “Yes, I believe we’ve met before.”
His hand made a questioning gesture toward the bench opposite hers and she nodded kindly. The innkeeper came over and the man asked for food and wine without taking his eyes off Sol.
When they were alone again, he spoke once more in that strangely thrilling voice.
“What’s your name, my lovely? No, don’t tell me. Ever since our first meeting, I’ve thought of you as my Moon Goddess. Let me call you by that name!”
Sol laughed out loud. Ridiculous! Moon Goddess – when her given name meant “Sun.”
“And you?” she teased. “I see you as a disguised traveler riding the earth – but your true home’s elsewhere.”
“Well, I’m certainly no archangel!”
“That wasn’t what I meant either!”
Sol felt a glow spreading slowly through her whole being. It was fun to sit and exchange inferences about something they both understood so well.
She was suddenly alive and happy as never before. At last she’d found her equal: A man who could give her everything a woman longed for.
“I know who you are,” he told her. “I don’t know your name, but they call you ‘the cat-eyed witch!’ No, don’t worry, I realise you’re being hunted, but I’ve no wish to inform against you. You’re known by another name as well.”
“Am I? And what is that?”
“The Yellow Spider.”
“Spider! Ugh! Why?”
“For people imagine that you’re crazy with men and that you kill your lovers once they’ve embraced you.”
Sol was furious. “That’s not true. Absolutely not! First of all, I’ve only known a few men, and both of them – all three of them – are alive! I’m not interested in ordinary men. I find them boring.”
He couldn’t help laughing at her indignation for a moment.
Then he quietly asked her where she was going.
“I’m on my way to visit the Finnish lumberjacks. They understand sorcery, so it’s said.”
His eyes were sparkling as he listened and Sol sighed inwardly as she looked at him. Oh, he was ever so attractive!
“I could tell by your eyes that you’re a witch, my little Moon Goddess.”
It didn’t matter to Sol that he spoke so openly. On the contrary. He of all men would surely understand such facts better than anybody else.
Looking closer, she saw that he wasn’t a young man – but then the Prince of Darkness wouldn’t be. He could be thousands of years old – but in his kingdom, a thousand years was only a day.
What would he be known as? Satan? Or perhaps Luc
ifer – the fallen angel who battled with God and was cast down from heaven into hell? This must be the image of Lucifer as he’d been soon after he was cast down. He was still handsome, but already had something of an evil look in his eyes.
The picture the world had created of the Evil One wasn’t true. He was handsome – just as handsome, in fact, as the Angel of God had once been. Or maybe he was able to transform himself into any likeness he chose? He appeared in so many guises – dragon, dog or snake. He could be anything and everything.
“Where have you been since we last met?” she asked and was surprised to see him look a little embarrassed.
“No, sorry. That was a stupid question,” she added quickly and he seemed relieved.
But she couldn’t help wondering why he’d waited this long to rise up from the ‘depths of darkness’ for a second time. That was what she was longing to ask him – but truly it was of little importance. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about his other life?
“Little Moon Goddess, my journey will also take me to the east. May I suggest that we ride together? The roads aren’t safe for a lady traveling on her own.”
Sol bowed her head graciously. “I accept your offer, and you needn’t use titles to address me – we’ve met before, haven’t we?”
She spoke in an ambivalent tone of voice and his teasing grin told her that he was also playing her game.
Again she thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Despite the deep lines of experience etched in his cheeks. And the small creases at the corners of his mouth and under his eyes, he was almost unbearably handsome. Those blue eyes twinkled and his golden hair layered itself in gentle waves. Maybe there was a sign of grey at the temples, which made her wonder how old he actually was? ... Maybe around forty? How many thousands of years he’d already lived, nobody would know.
She felt a tingling sensation along her spine and the hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end. It was one thing to be with him on a ride to Blakulla, dreamlike as that was and without any obligation. It was quite another to sit opposite him in a country inn and arrange to travel with him – with everything that journey might entail.