The Ice People 1 - Spellbound (The Legend of the Ice People) (11 page)

“I didn’t quite catch the last bit of the conversation,” he interrupted. “Does Benedikt plan to marry you?”

Silje startled. “Oh, dear. Surely this isn’t what he intends to do.”

“Well, this is what it sounds like. Which other options has he got to disinherit Abelone’s children?”

Silje thought for a moment. “He came into my room one evening … and talked a lot of nonsense. But he was

drunk, so I didn’t give it much more thought. I got him to leave in the end. But he may have had vague intentions then”

He was quiet for a long time. She cast him a quick, shy glance. He held his jaw so tight that his lips had turned quite white.

Then he said: “You’ve changed, Silje. You’re extremely scared. Why, I wonder?”

She took a deep breath and then said quickly: “I’ve been told you name, and this time it’s your correct name.”

He was silent for a moment. “And you come, even so?”

“You’ve never done me any harm,” she said in a quiet tone of voice. “Besides, you said that you needed me.”

“Did I say that? That was very thoughtless of me, and just as thoughtless of me to come up here.”

Silje wondered why but didn’t have the courage to ask. She took a deep breath and tried to hide how disappointed she was.

“I needed to talk to you now. Everything is so difficult down at the farm and … and then this business about your name. I need to know more if you’d be so kind.”

“That’s probably a good idea. After all, you know my name now, and you also know that I’m no master.”

The silence around them was tangible. But the forest opened and a small cabin appeared, grey from the sun and bad weather, and with an outhouse that was just as bland. Smoke continued to rise from the chimney.

He opened the door and she bent her head and entered. When the door was closed behind them, a special atmosphere arose between them that she wasn’t able to describe. If it hadn’t been for his reluctance, she would say that it was confidence and rapport. But this was something he didn’t express.

There was a room with a fireplace in the middle of the floor, which she was accustomed to from home. It was only at Benedikt’s farm that she’d experienced better circumstances because the mansion that her father had worked on didn’t count. It belonged to a class in society way above hers. They represented two different worlds.

Everything here was old-fashioned. Along the walls were benches, cupboards and a short box bed. The room wasn’t particularly tidy, but at least he’d arranged it so that the smoke didn’t remain in the room but was led up onto the roof through the louver, which happened to be the only source of light. It was made of an animal’s fetal membrane and now it was slightly open. An undressed wooden beam ran right across the room from which a cooking pot hung in a chain.

Silje held her frozen hands over the fire, avoiding looking at him. After some hesitation he took off her silk coat and put it to dry. It was all wet from the snow at the hem.

“What about your boots?”

“They’re tight. I think I’ll keep them on.”

She spoke with a low, unsure voice, always scared of his mood.

He nodded and asked her to take a seat on the broadest bench, which was lined with sheep-skin. He himself sat on another bench on the other side of the fire.

“Don’t you want some food from the lunch box?” she asked.

His voice was still gruff. “Thank you. In a while. But first I want to talk with you.”

He put a kettle of water over the fire so that she could have something warm inside. Silje couldn’t help wondering about the awkward atmosphere in the room. Or … perhaps she wasn’t so surprised after all? She knew that it was largely due to her.

“Please don’t say sir. Let’s be informal,” he said as he sat down.

She lowered her head. “I don’t think I can. It wouldn’t be polite of me. Besides I don’t want to be informal with you.”

“So you wish to keep a distance?”

“I doubt whether a single little word can overcome that.”

She didn’t look up but could feel his wondering glance.

Then he said suddenly: “What do you think of me, Silje? Do you believe that I’m … Tengel the Evil?”

She sent him an inquisitive glance through the flames. He now sat with his back against the wall and put his arms around his bent knees. His face was very demonic in the flickering glow from the fire.

“I can’t believe it,” she said thoughtfully. “It seems so grotesque. And you’re so … warm! But there’s an awful lot I don’t understand about you, sir.”

He gave her a bitter smile. “I can well imagine. Can you manage to hear my story? The story of the Ice People?”

“This is why I’ve come,” she said with childish seriousness. “And, well, I also feared that you starved.”

A ghost doesn’t starve. So you didn’t believe that I was Tengel the Evil.”

“No, I probably didn’t.”

“Well, I’m not him either,” he said fiercely. “How on earth can anybody
believe
such rubbish?”

She crept further in on the bench, pulling her skirts closer about her. “Do you know what?” she said carefully but then felt uncertain about his mood once more. “No, there wasn’t anything I wanted to say after all.”

“Yes, there is,” he said sternly. “Never begin a sentence without finishing it.”

For a moment, the thought of her latest dream rushed through her mind. What if she tried to divert his anger by taking off her clothes – the way she’d done in that horrible nightmare … What would he say then? Throw her straight into the lake, maybe, in utter contempt and disgust. After all, dreams are just the outcome of one’s own wishes.

This was a bitter truth to swallow.

“No, it was just a stupid sensation I felt” she said apologetically, turning her thoughts to what she actually wanted to say. “An utterly crazy sensation. That this is what I’ve been waiting for my whole life.”

“Hearing the story of the Ice People?” he asked doubtfully.

This remark upset her. “Now you mock me, sir, and I can see that I was wrong. I’m sorry that I was so free and easy.”

“Then tell me what was on your mind,” he said impatiently.

“I just meant the sensation of being close to a like-minded person, somebody who understands you so that you don’t have to be afraid of being exposed to ridicule. Everything that is said is received in good faith and hidden with the person you confide in. Forgive my rashness. Of course, you don’t feel any rapport with me, so I’ll leave now …”

She got up without daring to look at him.

“Sit down,” he almost bellowed at her. “Do you want to hear or not?”

“Yes, please,” she said, frightened.

“Well then stop all that drama.”

She stopped for a bit so as to give them both time to regain their composure.

“Do you want to hear it all … from the beginning?”

“Yes, please.”

“You don’t have to whisper. You look like a young bird that’s staring at a cat. Ugh, I don’t know how to begin. I’ve never told this hated story to anybody.”

He made a despairing movement with his arms. Silje sat down, making herself comfortable once more. She could feel how hard her heart was pounding but she felt ready to hear the legend about the Ice People.

Chapter 8

Before he began, the man at the other side of the fireplace took a deep breath.

“I suppose you’ve heard of the first Tengel, that he and some other families fled to the Outfarm Mountains. I believe this was back in the 1200s. I’m not quite sure what my notorious ancestor was up to but he’s said to have entered a pact with Satan so that he was able to cope up there in the wilderness. I for one tend to believe that he had a knowledge of witchcraft from before. He was supposed to be a man with a peculiar appearance, short and stocky but nevertheless stately with black hair and penetrating eyes. Nobody knows which branch of ancestors he hailed from. There’s no reason to believe that he was of a foreign race. He is said to have committed horrific acts in order to get in contact with The Evil himself – and that many of his incantations were read aloud over a pot in which he boiled his brew the likes of which the world had never seen before.”

Involuntarily, Silje’s glanced at the pot on the fireplace. It seemed harmless in itself. Tengel’s penetrating look rested on her.

“Having entered the pact with the Devil, Tengel buried the pot, cursing the spot. Then he said that The Evil himself had said that a few chosen among his descendants were to inherit the gifts he himself had been given – and that one of his descendants would have more supernatural powers than the human race had ever known. The curse – because it
is
a curse, Silje – could only be lifted if the pot was found and dug up again.”

“Has it been found?” she asked in a low voice, seeking his glance in the twilight behind the smoke and the glow of fire.

“No, because no one has any idea where he dug it down. He was away for thirty days and thirty nights, from one full moon to the next, when he entered the pact with the Devil. He could have been far up in the mountains and he could have been on the other side of them. Far away. But they say he changed appearance after the horrific encounter. He somehow crouched, became shorter and broader – if you know what I mean – mean and cruel to look at.”

“Do you believe all this?”

“Up to a point,” he said, reluctantly. “I certainly believe that he did it, that he made every effort possible to find Satan.
That
I believe in. But whether he actually met the Prince of Darkness nobody knows and I myself doubt it very much – although he asserted till his death that he did. I for one believe that he was of the kind who lives to shock people. And perhaps he believed that he had met Satan. Many pious people have asserted the same thing. And I think he simply made up this bit about descendants inheriting his abilities. He probably knew that there have always been individuals with occult talents in his family – and then he tried to pretend that he could prophesy. In other words, he tried to impress people. The fact that he shrank and became more horrible to look at isn’t surprising. Everybody shrinks with age – and if someone is thoroughly vicious, that person comes to look fouler in the face. One thing, however, is a fact: The man I’m named after knew a thing or two. The story about the pact with Satan is probably just fabrication. There’s no Satan.”

Silje was startled. “You mustn’t say that! This would be the same as denying the Lord.

“Is that so? Don’t be so naïve, Silje. Despite your extraction, I thought you were a bright girl but now you think like all other uneducated young girls. I regard Satan as one of the more practical innovations of mankind – somebody to blame when you don’t want to take responsibility for your own misdeeds. Besides, nobody knows how much belief in the Devil the clergy has invented with the sole purpose of gaining power over mankind.

“Now you mock, sir.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! If it’s true that Satan exists, you banish me to eternal torment. Is this what you want?”

“Certainly not!”

He leaned forwards. “If it’s true that the first Tengel sold his soul to Satan, then he also sold mine because it’s the same blood, semen, soul and curse that is over all of us who’ve inherited his powers. Do you get me? I refuse to acknowledge Satan – but I readily believe in a gentle and forgiving God who’s able to show mercy over a human being with a heavy legacy.”

Silje felt a lump in her throat. “When you express it like this, I tend to think that you’re right. That the Evil is people’s idea. But I flatly refuse to believe that you’re cursed. You who’s so …”

“Then look at me!” he exclaimed.” Does a human being look like me? I get a shock when I see my reflection

in a pond. Look at my burning eyes that are slanted and narrow like a cat’s, see the beastly smile, the big teeth and the straight hair that could be a mane. Have you ever seen anything more detestable?”

Silje’s mouth trembled. “Honestly, I must confess that your appearance scared me in the beginning. I don’t know why. Now, however, I think you’re very … No, I’m afraid I can’t explain it. I like looking at you. And you’ve been so kind towards me and the children …”

He rose abruptly. “I’m not always an angel.”

Her words had agitated him. He walked restlessly over to the other end of the room, stood there for a moment and then opened a cupboard door. Then he slammed it shut and returned to his seat. Silje sat there without moving, ashamed at being so candid. Now he was bound to be furious at her. He clenched his hands as if he didn’t know what to say.

She felt the uneasy silence. “So you know for certain that you’re one of the chosen in your family? The medical expertise … was that also inherited from him?”

“I think you ought to call it magic power because that’s what it is! Yes, it is inherited, with shocking relentlessness. Not all but at least one in every generation has been hit, and it’s always those with a dark hue, the unique, those with cat’s eyes, that are the victims.”

“Victims, you say. I can understand that it’s a heavy burden to bear.”

“Yes, heavier than you can fathom.”

“That special being you mentioned … the one who’s supposed to inherit more occult powers than mankind has ever seen … Might this being be you?”

He leaned his head backwards and laughed in despair. “Me? No, I’m not affected that badly. I don’t have so many qualities. I’m just very receptive to tensions and emotions with people, and my hands have healing power. No, but there’re others in our family, atrocious beings, whose likes you’ve never seen. All the crazy things they can make themselves do fill me with despair. No, the chosen being probably hasn’t been born yet and I’ll see to it that he never will.”

Silje sent him an inquisitive glance.

“I’ve promised myself that the evil legacy must die with me. That I’ll never lie in a woman’s arms … so that the dangerous semen I carry won’t proliferate.”

Silje looked down. She didn’t want him to read her thoughts, the hope that rushed through her at that very moment. His dislike of her coming to his cabin up here ... Could it have something to do with …?

No, of course not!

She had to ask one more question. “But if you believe in “that one and only chosen being”, then you also believe in the first Tengel’s prophetic gift?”

He looked slighted irritated but smiled nevertheless.

“Not really. As I said a moment ago, I believe that this was something he made up. But the legacy in itself is such a heavy burden that I don’t want to take it any further. It stops with me.”

“Are you the only one in your generation?”

“Yes, for a while we believed that my sister had also inherited the evil but fortunately she went free. Then she left the mountains, Silje. Left them for the sake of love and settled in Trondheim with her husband without daring to tell him that she descends from the Ice People. The fact is, you see, whomever descends from the Ice People is killed on the spot if he or she is caught. Then the body is burned and the ashes buried deep into the earth so that it will no longer be able to spread witchcraft. We heard that my sister had two daughters, Angelica and Leonarda. She was the one I wanted to visit that night you and I met, Silje. But we never found them.”

Silje stared. She was in her own thoughts.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked. “You seem so tense.”

“How old were her daughters?”

“Very young. The youngest was an infant.”

“Nadda.” Leonarda?

“Tengel …”

“At long last you say my name,” he mumbled with a thick voice. Silje hardly noticed it because she was so agitated.

“Tengel … Goodness ... I think …”

“What?”

“I believe your sister’s passed away.”

He stiffened. “Why do you think so?”

“You know how I found Sol, don’t you? Next to the mother’s dead body. A beautiful woman with black, curly hair and dark eyes. When we – Sol and I – later heard the newborn baby cry in the forest, Sol pulled me to it while she mumbled “Nadda” all the time. It immediately occurred to me that she’d had a younger brother or sister with a name something like that. A child that probably died of the plague.”

“Leonarda? God heavens,” Tengel whispered. “You’re absolutely right, Silje. I’ve seen signs in Sol’s face. Similarities with the Ice People. But I couldn’t possibly imagine …”

He stopped. It seemed to be too much for him all at once.

“Tengel.” Silje moaned in despair. “I’m afraid that
Sol
has inherited the evil in her! Her most peculiar disposition, her almost wizardly wildness. She behaves in a way that is utterly unfathomable. What’s more, I’ve noticed a strange, absent-minded silence that comes over her from time to time.”

“Yes,” said Tengel. “This is one of the first signs. Oh, my God! Poor child! Sol – is she really my niece, Angelica? This is unbelievable. And my sister has passed away! It’s all so immensely evil.”

The hostile armour he’d protected himself with seemed to crack. Silje waited while he came to grips with the full tragedy that surged over him. Most of all, she would have gone to him and put her arms round him to show compassion. But that was probably not a good idea. She had understood that much. She just had to look on as he suffered.

His eyes were dark. “If I were hard enough, I’d kill her
now
before she’s old enough to understand.”

At that moment his face was more inhuman than ever before. His eyes were sadder and expressed more suffering than she’d ever seen before.

“No, you mustn’t kill her,” exclaimed Silje, shocked.

“No, of course not. But my heart bleeds in despair when I think of her future. Oh, Silje, you’ve no idea how awful it is to be destined for that legacy. Some of my forefathers loved it and were proud of it. They turned into evil sorcerers and witches. They have asserted that
they
were that chosen being. But I hate that destiny.”

He lowered his voice. “And I remain firm to my pledge – I’ll never touch a woman. My semen is not to be carried to the next generation. Not even if Sol continues the cursed family. All we can do is to pray to God that she won’t have that evil disposition which many of her ancestors had – those who went in the service of The Evil. I try all the time to keep on the right side.”

He straightened himself as if he’d woken up a bit.

“What’s the matter?”

“Do you remember the time when I entered your room – when I was to try to save Sol from the plague?”

“Yes, I remember that you hesitated for a moment. You said ‘But’ … and then you interrupted yourself.”

“Yes, precisely.” You see, I had a strange feeling that I
oughtn’t
to save her. That was why! She’s one of the cursed ones, which I didn’t know at the time. It was as if an inner voice told me that she ought not to live. Oh, well, now she exists – but even so I’ll never lie in the arms of a woman.”

Silje sat quietly, struggling with her tears. As always, he sensed her sadness. Only this time he was annoyed as he’d been practically the whole time since she arrived. He got up again.

“I’ve never had difficulties in avoiding women, he said, almost in a hissing voice. “Not until … The water’s boiling.”

To begin with, it hadn’t dawned on Silje that he was talking about two different things. But then she discovered that the water was bubbling in the kettle and that it had probably done so for quite a while. She got up and removed the lid on the lunch box while he found something to eat and drink from.

She was proud at putting all this lovely food on the table and she was happy that his gaze followed her movements. It was great to do something in return for all he had done for her.

But she also suddenly felt that his mind was restless once more. She sent him an inquisitive glance.

“I should’ve have left a long time ago,” he said, irritated, tossing a couple of wooden spoons on the table. “I just don’t understand why I haven’t left yet.”

“I’m glad that you stayed,” said Silje. “I’ve felt more comfortable at the thought that you are up here. You’ve held your protecting hand over me and the children. You’re not evil, sir.”

“Now you’re formal and not mentioning my first name,” he mumbled.

“Sorry, I forgot …”

“You say that I’m not evil but even so many are scared of me.”

“Isn’t it a good thing that they feel respect?” She tried to laugh but the laughter got stuck in her throat. “They think I’m a three hundred year old spirit, Silje, and that’s despite the fact that I’m an ordinary, living human being, who has a yearning for togetherness as everybody else – but with the difference that I’ve some special gifts, which I haven’t asked to be given.”

He met so much compassion in her eyes that he had to look away.

“All this about herbs – this is something you’ve learned, right?” she asked.

“This is something the Ice People drink with one’s mother’s milk, which, incidentally, I never got. How can you possibly believe that I’m a ghost? I’m almost relieved that I caused my mother’s death when I was born – then at least she didn’t have to see the monster she put in the world.”

“Tengel,” she uttered sadly.

He was silent.

“There’s yet another reason, Silje …” He went over to the corner cupboard and stood with his back to her. “There’s yet another reason why I must live on my own. You’ve seen my shoulders, haven’t you?”