Ransacker

by Emmy Laybourne

“Your men kidnapped my sister and tried to kill us when we came for her,” Hanne said simply.

  “Well, it wasn’t supposed to go like that,” Phillips said. “We were hired in the spring of 1884, with the express goal of keeping the four of you safe. The Baron was concerned that there might be attacks on you due to the previous warrants out on Knut.”

  “Russell Peavy killed one of your own men when he tried to save Sissel,” Stieg said. “His name was James.”

  Phillips ran a hand through his coarse black hair.

  “You all met Peavy,” he said. “He was an unpredictable man. We don’t know why he killed James Collins.”

  Sissel heard this name—James Collins. That was James’s real name. Whatever bitterness she had felt toward James seemed to disappear like smoke in a fog.

  She was horrified to feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She forced them to go away. She caught the minister looking at her and made her face go cold.

  “It didn’t need to happen,” Phillips was saying. “Everything should have gone clean and easy. We never wanted any of you to be hurt. It was our godforsaken job to protect you.”

  “Did you have a man following us?” Owen asked suddenly. “On the cattle trail?”

  “Yes, two men were watching the drive,” Phillips said. “As I understand it, they took out a man who was planning to harm your wife.”

  “Mandry,” Hanne said. “They shot Mandry.”

  “Your men started a stampede that nearly killed Hanne and me!” Owen said.

  “Yes, they bungled everything!” the Baron exclaimed. “And I was told they were the very best.”

  “We are the best,” the other Pinkerton said, low and angry. “But we can’t do our job if we don’t have all the facts. Like, say, magic powers. That’s something we need to know about—”

  “Todd!” Phillips said in a silencing tone. “It’s no excuse. Lives have been lost. A big mess has been made, and we bear responsibility for it.”

  “They’re going to clean everything up,” the Baron said. “No one will ever trace any wrongdoing back to you all.”

  Stieg walked away from his place, rubbing his mouth.

  Lucy came in with a silver tray. The scent of coffee accompanied her.

  “Thought you might like some refreshments,” she said. She set down the tray, which was loaded with a pot of coffee, some sugar in a bowl, a pitcher of cream, and some china cups.

  “Lovely,” the Baron said. “Americans and their coffee! So delightful. Thank you.”

  Lucy went away and came back with a wooden cutting board. On it was a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, and a carving knife. Knut went over and sawed off a piece of bread and then one of cheese. He returned to his place, happily chewing, while Lucy poured coffee for the Baron and his men.

  The Baron poured a dollop of cream in his cup and stirred it with a spoon. He took a sip.

  For a moment there was only silence. They heard Lucy go out the front door, bringing another tray to the men waiting outside. Their happy words of thanks came through the windows. They did seem to be a genial bunch, Sissel admitted to herself.

  “You want us to believe that you’ve only been trying to protect us this whole time and everything you’ve done was for our own good?” Stieg said.

  “Oh, I do!” the Baron said. “I desperately want that, Stieg. For it is the truth. I wanted you all to stay here, safe, in America. And then my plan was always to come, myself, and invite you all to come to Gamlehaugen. To me, we are family. I want to teach you all about the Nytte, the ancient texts; I want you to meet your brothers. They’ve come such a long way to meet you.”

  “They’re not our brothers,” Stieg said. “I said it before.”

  “We see it differently,” Björn said suddenly. His English was just as crisp and clear as that of the Baron. “And I hope you will come to see it our way. You see, Stieg, I am a Storm-Rend, like you. There is only one other that we know of, in the whole world. He’s out there—Johan Jȧȧsund, one of the twins.” Björn gestured out the window, and Sissel saw Stieg’s eyes flit outside.

  “We share blood, we share history and we share a set of skills that hardly anyone in the world can comprehend,” Björn said. Stieg began to speak, but Björn held his hand up. “But what makes us kin is that we truly care for one another and have chosen to live together, under the Baron’s auspices. If only you will listen to the Baron Fjelstad and believe him, you could join our family, too.”

  Sissel looked around at her siblings. There was strain on Stieg’s face and anxiety etched on Hanne’s features.

  “That’s not all of it,” Fjelstad said. “I want to be truthful with you.” He looked over them all and sighed. “I would have come to meet you all sooner, I should have, but there is tremendous political unrest in Europe right now. We’ve learned of a secret alliance among Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Italy. There may come a time when the Nytteson are needed to protect our mother country.

  “These are things that Rolf and I argue about often. He wants to keep the Nytte a secret, and study it, and use it to praise the Gods. But I feel that we may soon need to use our power. That is why I’ve gone to such lengths to try to keep you safe, and why I’ve come all this way to speak to you, now.”

  “This is all very difficult to believe,” Stieg said.

  “I don’t believe it,” Hanne said outright.

  “I don’t blame you,” the Baron said. “You all must have expected me to be a terrible, ruthless man. But I’m not that way. I’m here to ask for your forgiveness and your help. But I know it will take time.

  “I’ll take my men and go to the town. We’ll be staying in the hotel. All I ask is that you give me the chance to earn your trust.”

  “Impossible,” Hanne said, rising. Sissel saw her sister’s cheeks were flushed and her hands in fists. “Your men kidnapped my sister! They took her up into a cave and they shot at us. They would have killed me and my brothers!”

  “That was all a misunderstanding.”

  “No,” Sissel said, rising. “I saw the telegram. It said to secure the item at any cost. To forfeit other items.”

  “I never sent that! I would never say that. I live to protect you! I consider you all family to me. Will you please hear me out? Meet the others, they’ll tell you,” Fjelstad said. “Please! Join us for dinner tomorrow in town—”

  “You should go,” Knut said. His deep voice and the certainty in it surprised them all.

  “No, no! You must allow us to convince you. It’s so important!”

  “You’ve said your piece. We listened. Now we’re done,” Owen said. “We are asking you to leave.”

  The tension in the room was thick and getting thicker.

  The Baron rose to his feet now, and the minister and others joined him. Sissel noted the stance of the minister and the way he held his hands—ready for a fight. Was the intimidating Lutheran pastor actually a Berserker? The Baron’s bodyguard?

  “You are young,” the Baron said. His face and neck were flushed. “You must listen to reason!”

  “No!” Sissel said. Recklessly, she opened her Nytte and reached for the knife on the cutting board. Though the blade was steel, the handle was silver. She took hold of it and slashed the knife through the air toward the Baron.

  Sissel brought it to a stop right in front of Fjelstad’s face, the point poised directly in front of his left eye.

  “Sissel!” Hanne shouted.

  She saw the minister go tense as power flooded through him. Yes, a Berserker, Sissel thought.

  “We are done listening to your slick lies,” Sissel said. “You will leave, and take your men with you.”

  The Baron was frozen, his mouth open.

  “You have no idea what I can do to you and your men,” she said. “If you value your life, you will go.”

  Sissel pulled the knife back toward herself, catching it neatly in her hand.

  Hey Nytte had closed her hearing, so she could not hear what, if any
thing, the Baron said.

  Fjelstad rose, shaking his head. He looked disappointed and saddened by her actions. Sissel felt that even this, this posture of weariness, was a lie.

  * * *

  HER SIBLINGS WERE arguing when her hearing returned some minutes later. Stieg was pacing, and Owen sat in one of the chairs, his head cradled in his hands. Knut was seated near the cheese plate, polishing off the rest of the food.

  Hanne stood at the window, looking out.

  “But there is truth in what he told us,” Stieg said. “Tensions are rising in Europe. I’ve been reading about it in the papers.”

  “Yes, but you can’t really be entertaining the thought of going with him to Norway,” Hanne said.

  “What about the letter from Rolf? I’m convinced by it. And what I would give to see Rolf again!”

  Sissel saw a true need in her brother’s eyes. She realized suddenly how much her brother missed the company of other learned minds.

  “I don’t think we should trust him entirely, but the Baron’s story does make sense,” Stieg continued. “The Pinkertons could have misinterpreted his requests and … the events on the mountainside were not entirely their fault.”

  Hanne glared at Stieg. “They were my fault, were they?”

  “I saw the telegram,” Sissel said. Her siblings looked at her, realizing she could hear them again. “The Baron wanted me and was willing to sacrifice your lives.”

  “Oh, Sissel, why did you show him your power?” Hanne said, turning from the window. “I fear it will just make him want you all the more.”

  “He can’t be trusted,” Sissel said. “I know it.”

  “I’ve read and reread Rolf’s letter,” Stieg said. “It’s his handwriting, and it sounds like all his other letters. I think it’s genuine and he wants us to trust the Baron.”

  Sissel rose and took the letter from Stieg.

  “He’s not what I expected, that’s for sure,” Owen said. “He’s got a lot of charm.”

  “Charming men can be evil, too,” Hanne said.

  “But it may be…,” Stieg said. “It might be that he is not evil, just overambitious. Overprotective and controlling. I remember how torn Rolf was about him—he so wanted to believe the Baron was a good man.”

  “You find yourself wanting the same thing now?” Sissel said.

  “It would be such an opportunity if we could go to Gamlehaugen,” Stieg said honestly. “To study the ancient texts themselves.”

  “You know, if he goes back to Norway now,” Owen said. “Then maybe he can be trusted. I mean, if he leaves us alone, then that proves he has good intentions toward you all.”

  “Until we know the Baron’s intentions, I’m going to keep watch,” Owen said.

  “That seems wise,” Stieg said. “I can help.”

  “Me too,” said Knut.

  “I’m going to change clothes and help Lucy with lunch, if she’ll let me,” Hanne said. She went to move past Owen and he grabbed her hand. She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  “May I take Rolf’s letter and study it?” Sissel asked. “I feel there’s something here.”

  No one objected. They broke up the meeting, retiring to change into work clothes and get on with the day.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Lucy was rolling pie crusts when Hanne came into the kitchen. Hanne had changed out of the fancy dress into some good, simple everyday clothes of Mrs. Bennett’s that Lucy had provided. The shirt was a light chambray and the skirt simple dun-colored wool.

  “Miss Hemstad,” she said, giving a little curtsy. “I take it the meeting went all right?”

  “Stop for a moment, please,” Hanne said. Lucy looked anxious. She grabbed her apron and started wringing her hands on it. “I don’t want to break with what’s proper, but could you just call me Hanne? I’m not a very fancy person, and I don’t think I’ll like being called Miss Hemstad very much.”

  A great grin broke over Lucy’s face. Hanne smiled in return.

  “Well, sure, I can call you Hanne!”

  “And I’ll call you Lucy.”

  Lucy nodded her head effusively.

  “As for the meeting, it was … intense. A little confusing. But it appears that the Baron has left. We hope he’s gone for good.”

  “All that worrying for nothing!” Lucy said. “I’m glad. You all had enough trouble, from what Owen tells me.”

  “What needs to be done?” Hanne said, looking around the kitchen. “I’ve no desire to sit around idle while you do all the work.”

  Lucy looked around the kitchen, too.

  “All’s good in here. How are you at pulling weeds?”

  “I’m very good at pulling weeds,” Hanne said.

  * * *

  THE KITCHEN GARDEN was triple the size of the one they’d had back in Carter, but not even half as productive. It had clearly been neglected during the long illness and demise of the Bennett family. Three rows of cabbages were growing well but a wide swath of potato plants looked withered and drooping. They should have been harvested already, Hanne thought. The potatoes would be good for nothing but seed.

  A tangle of sugar snap peas grew over a brace. The peas looked old and tough. There were some toppled tomato plants, the fruits rotting on the ground. But Hanne saw a few green tomatoes on the plants, and so she decided to start there. She’d cut off the dead growth, brace the plants, and weed around them.

  Hanne found some milkweed plants and dug them up, with the intention of replanting them elsewhere. She knew that butterflies laid their eggs in the milkweed plants, and they were considered good luck. She was digging around the roots of a tall plant when a terrible jagged image made her gasp.

  Daisy. Her foot caught in a trap. Oh, the pain of it!

  Hanne jumped up.

  She looked around—there! The little wood off beyond the hilltop where the Bennetts were buried. That’s where Daisy was with her leg in a trap!

  Hanne walked, then ran, racing up the hill, past the graves, and into the woods. It was mostly pines, and the needles made no sound underfoot.

  She felt sharp, blood-red pain coming from the dog’s foot.

  Where was she?

  Hanne saw a flash of white and black through the woods and moved to it without thought.

  There she was! Daisy was caught in a metal trap, and the foot was badly injured. The dog was whimpering and made a howl of pain as Hanne tried to open the trap, but she was licking Hanne’s face, too, licking her face and hands, so thankful for being found.

  Suddenly Hanne felt two thick arms wrap around her rib cage and crush her, lifting her off the ground and into the air.

  Hanne fought, kicked, thrashed, but she could not break free.

  “Release the dog,” said a voice.

  A man stepped out from behind a tree and pressed a lever on the trap. The jaws opened wide and Daisy scrambled free.

  Hanne fought the man who held her, but it was like being held by a granite statue—she could not budge him.

  Within a few moments, with Daisy now safe and free, her Berserker energy ebbed away and reason returned. She realized it was the Baron’s Oar-Breaker who held her, and the Baron himself appeared from behind a tree.

  “Hanne,” said the Baron, “please forgive me. You must forgive me. We only want to talk.”

  “Owen!” Hanne shouted. “I’m in the woods. Help!”

  The Oar-Breaker, Harald, put his beefy hand over her mouth, and she bit it.

  “Ow!” he yelled. He gripped her tighter. He crushed her to him, and the air went out of her lungs. Stars swarmed up in her vision.

  “Don’t bite me again,” Harald said in her ear; then he let up a bit so she could breathe.

  The Baron came closer.

  “Please don’t make me gag you,” the Baron said. “I just want to talk to you. I only want to speak, truly.”

  Hanne closed her eyes and tried to stop her shaking breath. She cast a prayer up to the Gods. Help me, Freya, she prayed
silently. Be with me. Be with me.

  “I will listen,” she said. “Set me down.”

  Harald set her on her feet, but kept his arms around her.

  “Your sister, Sissel,” the Baron said. “She’s young and impetuous. I didn’t know what she might do if I tried to speak to you all again. Please forgive me for this terrible trick.”

  Hanne glared at the Baron. She was in no position to argue, so she said nothing.

  “Hanne, everything I said is true, but there’s more. I didn’t want to burden you all with it, all at once, but I need your help.

  “There is growing unrest under King Oscar. Many feel that the enforced union with Sweden is not to be borne. They seek to replace him with Norwegian nobility. They seek a way to kindle the pride of the Norwegian people. We feel it is time to take back our country.”

  “You are going to overthrow the crown?” Hanne asked. “Is that your plan?”

  “We have the backing of many important men in parliament and the church and among the landowners,” the Baron said. In the dark forest, his eyes gleamed bright.

  “And you all are in support of this?” she asked the Baron’s men.

  “I believe King Oscar will fail us if it comes to war,” Björn said evenly. “And I believe war is coming.”

  “The Church is overrun with libertines,” Pastor Jensen added darkly. “And we cannot rely on the King. There is only one man I trust to lead Norway back to strength.” He nodded toward the Baron.

  “Oh,” Hanne said. The Baron looked proud. “So the Nytteson will serve as your private army and hand you the crown.”

  “No one would dare fight against us, not after they’ve seen what we can do,” one of the twins said.

  “Imagine the awe of the people when they find out about the powers of the Nytteson,” the Baron said.

  “It will restore national pride,” Björn added.

  “All will witness the power of the Old Gods and we, united with the Church, will lead Europe to peace and prosperity,” the Baron said.

  “You men believe this is the will of the Gods?” Hanne asked, looking around. The twins and Pastor Jensen nodded, but Björn did not quite meet her eye.