“They’re searching for me,” she said in a voice that sounded tired. “I think they’re on my trail, which is why I came here with my baby girl – I wanted first of all to make sure that she’d be well looked after.”
Tengel’s expression was inscrutable. “If you could start from the beginning?”
“Yes! When I left here the last time, I met the man I’d already told you about, Tengel. Do you remember?”
“Certainly. I remember – the only one who was able to bring you peace and happiness – or so you said.”
Sol gave a harsh, hollow laugh. “My goodness, how true! Those were my words. Anyway, he’s Sunniva’s Dad. May he burn in the fires of hell.”
“So he’s dead then?” asked Tengel gently.
“Yes, I killed him. I watched him die a slow death. It was the most satisfying hatred I’ve ever felt, Dad!”
“Sol!” said Silje shocked. “You mustn’t! After all, he was your child’s father.”
Sol turned to her. “Indeed, and thanks to him I can only feel a deep, unbearable tenderness for my little girl – but I can never love her. And he became my death sentence. Somebody found his dead body and others remembered seeing us together at the inn – they remembered the cat-eyed woman. The ‘cat-eyed witch’ the bailiff had been hunting for so long.”
“But why did you kill him, Sol?” Silje demanded to know.
Sol answered sharply. “Because the man I believed I could love had the name I hated more than anything else in the world. His name was Heming the Bailiff-killer!”
“What!” cried Tengel, jumping to his feet.
Silje’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no! Oh, no! Sol, say it isn’t true!”
“It’s true!”
“Yes, I see it now. Believe me, she has Heming’s features. Oh, how terrible!”
Tengel was absolutely furious. “So that bastard crossed our ways once more – and brings sorrow to our home. But Sol, he mustn’t destroy you – he mustn’t!”
He pulled her to her feet and held her tightly.
“You’re the daughter of my sister and I’ve loved you as I do my own children. You’re the last incarnation of the Ice People’s evil spirit – it can’t be your downfall. That mustn’t happen, Sol!”
“No! I’ve no intention of going quietly into their trap,” she replied, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I’ll flee to Sweden. But first I had to bring Sunniva to you.”
Silje tried to suppress her feeling of exhaustion at the thought of bringing up another child – especially at her age because she wasn’t getting any younger.
“We’ll take care of Sunniva. Don’t worry about that!” she said. “All of us here at Linden Avenue and at Graastensholm will look after her. But you still haven’t told us everything. Where have you been all this time?”
Tengel and Sol sat down again.
“After I’d killed Heming, I set off to search for the Finnish lumberjacks. It took a long time and their settlements are spread over wide areas of the great forests. At first they were suspicious of me – we couldn’t understand each other because they speak a different language from ours. But finally they accepted me. I lived among them, and there I also met people who knew sorcery.”
Sol hesitated as if it was difficult for her to continue. “But they wanted to expel me because I was pregnant with Sunniva. They wanted to put me in a pillory. They were also frightened by my witchcraft because I knew more than they did ... And well, before long, I happened to cast a spell on a man I didn’t like.
There were those who weren’t so intolerant, but they couldn’t save me from the righteous among them. So I fled from there and lived alone with my little Sunniva in a remote and empty lumberjack’s hut for a while. I lived on what nature provided while I breastfed the child. Finally, I realised that I had no other choice but to come back home no matter how dangerous it might be. There was no fodder for the horse and I couldn’t take the little one with me to Sweden.”
“No, of course not,” muttered Silje.
“Then I went to a farm east of Oslo to ask for some milk. I shouldn’t have done so because they recognised me. I can’t hide my eyes,” Sol said emotionally. “Later when I’d left, they told the bailiff’s soldiers, who set out after me – but I managed to fool them and so here I am. They’ll discover where to find me soon enough. So I must leave first thing tomorrow.”
“Is there no deserted farm in the area where she can hide?” Silje asked Tengel.
He thought about this. “No, all the farms are occupied, and it’s just a matter of time before rumours spread. Sweden is your only hope, Sol.”
“I know that, but I’m so tired.”
They knew that she wasn’t just talking about physical exhaustion. Everybody could see that her tiredness went much deeper than that.
***
That night Sol went to sleep at home for the first time in what now seemed an eternity. In the darkness before sleep came, she lay thinking.
Sweden? ... What could she achieve there? New difficulties, new disappointments – nothing. There was nothing left on this earth for her any more.
Except one thing: the Prince of Darkness.
At first, Sol had believed that Heming had also taken from her the thrill of her rides to Blakulla. She’d not dared to go again because nothing would have been worse than to meet him there.
But then she discussed this with an old Finnish woman, who was experienced in witchcraft, and the woman had listened, nodding understandingly. Then, talking Swedish in her sing-song dialect, she told her: “Try again! You’ll never see that man at Blakulla now! The Prince of Darkness is never repulsive to those who seek him.”
Sol waited for a long time and then she plucked up courage and tried again. Finally, while living in the hut with the baby, she’d rubbed the witch’s ointment on her body one evening exactly as before.
The Finnish woman turned out to be right. There wasn’t a trace of Heming the Bailiff-killer in the Satan who welcomed her and filled her night with lust. He’d been dark, demonic and handsome. But he’d been her own – and not a twisted image of a childhood memory.
Sol had never understood – or maybe more accurately – never wished to understand that the mixture of black nightshade, henbane and hemlock itself had produced these wild ecstatic dreams of a fantasy figure. She believed that it was a magic substance, the key that unlocked the Underworld, the deepest darkness. She didn’t know that the herbs brought on hallucinations – black nightshade the grotesque, nightmare scenes at Blakulla; henbane the dizzy, swaying ride over land and sea. Each of the three herbs was a deadly poison when swallowed but rubbed into the skin in precise measures, they awoke incredible lust – followed by a terrible headache. Witches knew the perfect mixture. One ounce too much of an ingredient could result in a fearfully distorted dream – or even death! Sol didn’t know about all this while she lay in that remote hut, whimpering with blissful lust in a dream shared with a demon created from her own fantasies and desires.
But lying there at home again in her own bed, with the helpless little Sunniva slumbering next to her, Sol suddenly found a new enlightenment. Now she knew exactly what she wanted.
Sweden? What was the purpose of going there? She would still be unable to stop herself from killing or somehow injuring anyone who fell victim to her wrath – and then everything would begin as before with flight and poverty.
She could only be really safe with one person – and that would be forever!
But how would that be possible? The only way possible for her to reach eternal life was through fire and brimstone in the Underworld. The only real answer was to be burned at the stake as a witch.
Sol had never feared pain and the stake was something she didn’t dread. On the contrary. Just thinking about it triggered an intense feeling of ecstasy.
Why had she slogged so hard here on earth only to suffer other people’s foolishness and ignorance?
It was so simple! Why hadn’t she thought of
it before?
The Prince of Darkness was expecting her in the very image she wanted him to have.
She relived the blissful moments spent with him, not only during moments of passion but in the glorious understanding they shared afterwards as well. The smiling, demonic eyes stared endlessly into hers. Without any words they told her that they belonged together forever.
Suddenly the desire to be there overwhelmed her and she choked back a tear. Besides, if she were to remain there, she wouldn’t have any of the after-effects she’d experienced previously. Her whole existence would then be one unbounded, burning rapture.
She slept soundly after these thoughts and when morning came, she said goodbye to everyone with a new sparkle of certainty in her eyes. She kept her goodbyes as brief and unemotional as possible in order to spare the others. She took the time to ride up to Graastensholm to see Liv and Dag’s newborn boy and chatted happily with her unsuspecting friends. She even found time to exchange a few brief warm words with Klaus in the yard.
Tengel couldn’t understand why she only wanted a small amount of money for her journey, but she told him that she knew where she could get more on her travels. He was even more surprised when she handed over all her stock of medicinal herbs and other substances to him, including all the herbs she’d inherited from Hanna. She even left the mandrake in his care. “Just keep everything until I return”, she told him. “I don’t want to be tempted to use all this again!” A relieved Tengel thought that all this sounded wonderful – but he was still greatly surprised. He embraced her more than once before she left, his eyes moist and his expression filled with the intensity of his feelings.
The weather had improved dramatically and the sun was shining brightly when she finally set off along the tree-lined avenue.
***
Then three days later, word reached them of Sol’s fate.
She had been captured and had, in fact, walked straight into the arms of the soldiers looking for her.
There were no delays in the due processes either – the sentence was passed quickly. A pyre was built outside Akershus on which – following a day of torture – the worst witch they’d known would be put to the flames.
Dag did everything he possibly could, speaking frantically to all the judges and lawyers he knew, but they all shook their heads. For his own sake and that of his family, they told him he shouldn’t get involved. Nothing at all could be done to save this woman.
Dag eventually gave up.
Another person had prayed for her as well - the executioner. He went to speak to her in person, but seeing her strength of resolve, he couldn’t do anything either. Sol only asked for him to do everything as quickly and humanely as possible, and he promised that with a silent nod.
Everyone had gathered at Graastensholm and Klaus was just as agitated as all the others. He just about lost his ability to speak. Then, at last, he was able to say something.
“I know where she is,” he told the others softly. “She’s in the count’s yard. They throw the worst witches in a hidden cellar where no one can get to them. But I know how to reach it!”
“Now you’re contradicting yourself,” said Tengel, stressed and pale. “How can you do that?”
“Not through the entrance, but there’s a narrow passage between the cellar wall and the rampart which you’ll find at the back. Down there is a small, barred opening and the condemned are held inside that portal.”
“Then I’ll be on my way.”
“No, that won’t work. You and I are too big to enter the passage.”
“But maybe I could?” asked Are.
“And me,” said Meta.
Klaus thought carefully, staring at them both. “Meta, yes – and maybe Are. I don’t know.”
Are was worried. “Is it a good idea to leave the farm now? A storm is blowing up.”
“What damage can the storm do to the crops? After all, it’s the middle of winter,” said Silje.
Tengel found some things he wanted to bring with him and then at dusk he set off on the road to Akershus with Klaus, Are and Meta. Liv and Dag had wanted to join them but Tengel had advised against it. He said that if only a few went, they would attract less attention.
As they journeyed, the storm whipped snow from the ground in huge flurries so that it billowed around them like thick smoke. Tengel had placed Meta in front of him on the horse, pulling his hood tighter.
“Sol’s not afraid of the stake. I’m certain of that,” he said to Are as they rode into the biting wind. “Or the torture. But she doesn’t know what it can do – how the instruments can crush a person’s will, destroy their senses and their self-respect until they’re no more. The stake won’t break her but we must save her from all those terrible instruments.”
“They’re going to torture her tomorrow?”
“Yes, and the pyre will take place the day after.”
“We mustn’t allow it,” said a determined Are.
They arrived at about midnight after a very hard journey. Everything was dark and silent in the count’s courtyard except for the sounds of the storm howling in the trees and around the walls. They dismounted the horses and Klaus led the way from the woods toward the back of the buildings.
The older men stopped at the rampart while Are and Meta received strict instructions and crept into the narrow gap. It was a tight fit for Are, but they made it. Soon enough they reached the small opening and called Sol’s name very quietly.
“Are?” they heard her whisper in astonishment. “And Meta! What are you doing here?”
“We’re here to bring a message from Dad. He and Klaus are nearby. He asks if you’ll accept his help so that you’ll be free of all this?” The young boy could barely hold back his tears as he spoke. “We’ve brought along potions for you.”
After a long silence they heard Sol’s voice speaking softly again from below.
“My dearest little brother. Tell Dad that this punishment is something I desire. I don’t want to escape from it.”
Meta sobbed suddenly and Are hushed her.
“That’s what we thought, Sol,” said Are urgently. ”But Dad wanted us to ask anyway. We’ve brought cakes and wine from Mum. They’re quite harmless.”
No, this wasn’t true. Tengel had anticipated Sol’s answer and treated the cakes and the wine with a deadly poison.
“I’d love to have some cake and wine,” said Sol. “I’ve had neither food nor drink, it would be good to have strength for tomorrow.”
“And Dad sent you this box,” gasped Are, unable to speak clearly through his sobs. “He thought you might need it to help shorten this night.”
“Witch’s ointment!” she grasped it greedily. “Yes, this is bound to be a very long night.”
“And I’m to tell you ... that everybody sends ... their love,” choked Are. “They all adore you, Sol. Silje and Tengel, Dag and Liv. Dag’s so upset that he was unable to save you. They all love you so much.”
“And me, too,” sniffed Meta.
“And Klaus, Aunt Charlotte and Jacob, and me. And all the servants on both the farms.”
“Good heavens!” Sol chuckled hesitantly. “I truly have many friends!”
Are found it impossible to speak for a long time.
“Everybody at Linden Avenue ... and ... Graastensholm will miss you, Sol.”
“They shouldn’t,” replied Sol. “Tell them all that I’m happy now. They must understand that this is what I wish for myself. I don’t fit into your world. But Are ...”
She paused and waited a moment. She seemed surprised, almost overwhelmed by something. “I feel as though ... as if ... at the moment I feel that I’ll return in a different, gentler incarnation. I’m unable to explain it. But Are, it’s a wonderful feeling, please tell everyone! And please do take good care of Sunniva for me!”
“We will,” he assured her. “When Silje and Tengel are no longer able, then Liv and Dag and I will take over. She’ll be safe, Sol.”
“The
n all will be well. Tell them all that they’re the only people in the world that I love.”
“We know.”
Are stretched out his hand through the bars and held Sol’s hand in his. It was a long time before he could bring himself to let go, but eventually they left to set off on the quiet journey home.
***
As soon as they’d left, Sol examined the things Tengel had sent her. She eagerly rubbed the ointment of henbane, hemlock and black nightshade into her body. Then without any hesitation she drank the wine and ate the cakes before she lay down on the wooden bunk.
Halfway between dream and being awake, something was revealed to her with unexpected clarity: A crystal-clear memory.
“Now I know why Tengel the Evil One hated me so intensely,” she whispered into the darkness. “Now I know where I’ve seen him ...”
But no one could hear her any more.
She had already fallen into a deep trance and was no longer conscious of her surroundings.
She was flying and she sped swiftly over the undulating countryside and across deep water until she reached “His” mountain. There she turned to face the abyss for a moment and the next moment she sped joyfully down into the depths of its pitch-black darkness before she finally came to rest in a meadow.
The Prince of Darkness came toward her, and this time he was more fascinating than ever before. His face resembled Tengel as a young man, but it wasn’t him. She knew with absolute certainty that this was her very own personal demon. He reached out and embraced her very warmly.
“At last you’re here, my beloved,” he whispered softly in her ear. “Now we’ll be together forever.”
His eyes were warm and filled with love ... the true love which she’d always longed for. Here was the desire, the sincerity and understanding that she’d searched for all her life but had never been able to find. Now her love grew from deep within her – true love for “Him” alone. She could find complete love with a man – she, who’d only known physical love until now and then only on her fruitless rides to Blakulla. The kingdom of love was hers and for the first time ever, Sol was truly happy.
The Ice People 3 Page 24
