“All the time! I was in constant turmoil as a soldier.”

  “Is it better now?”

  “I’m trying to calm down,” he replied.

  In a way, it seemed that his reply made her happy. She continued the conversation in a livelier manner than usual. “Your letters were so beautiful, Mikael. It’s a shame you didn’t write more frequently. In fact, I was waiting for your letters.”

  He became touched and grateful. “I had no idea they were so beautiful. I merely wrote down my thoughts.”

  “You think beautiful thoughts.”

  The last rays of the evening sun fell on the silk wallpaper. At that moment, there was a peaceful, happy mood between them. Troll came in and flopped right on Anette’s fine, small shoes. Mikael really liked that. Further inside the house, they could hear Dominic vehemently protesting for being told to wash.

  “I actually met a girl,” said Mikael almost pensively. “Somebody who came to mean a lot to me ...”

  Anette started. She became angry at herself and exclaimed, “When you finally tell me something about yourself, I’m irritated because you break the happy atmosphere.”

  Mikael concealed a smile. Did he detect a slight hint of jealousy behind her irritation? “I’ll keep quiet.”

  “No, no, please go on,” she said agitated.

  Yes, it was jealousy. No doubt about it. Or rather, the violated pride of a wife.

  He hesitated for a moment and then went on, “First of all, I met a girl, who clearly showed that she would like a romance with me. She was a nice girl in every sense, but I really wasn’t interested. That was at the beginning, and I had certain moral principles. I was newly married and didn’t want to let anybody down.”

  Anette swallowed so loudly that he could hear it.

  “It was worse with the other girl,” he continued pensively. “Because I felt greatly attracted to her.”

  She found it difficult to say the words: “Did you want to be unfaithful? To commit adultery?”

  “That wasn’t how I thought at the time. I suppose I fell in love with her. Or I was bewitched.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Birgitte. She was very attractive. I didn’t consciously want to commit adultery. But now, with hindsight, I can see that it would have happened if things had been allowed to take their natural course.”

  “What prevented this natural course?”

  “Troll, the puppy. She kicked him on purpose because she was absolutely livid. That was when all my feelings for her died. Since then a great many other things happened, which also changed my opinion of her.”

  Anette bent down instinctively and patted Troll. Mikael kept a straight face.

  “Is it true, what my friend said about men’s needs?” she asked.

  ‘You’ve already asked this question once,’ he thought. In order to help keep her from feeling too embarrassed, he said, “If it’s me you have in mind, you know that I would never dream of putting pressure on you.”

  Despite her strict religious and moral upbringing, Anette was still spontaneous now and then. “But I’d never dream of denying you your marital right. That was never my intention.”

  “I know that,” he said, gently stroking her cheek. “We just need a little time. But, to be honest, I’m not unwilling. Five years of celibacy is a long time.”

  “You can come to my room when you want,” she said solemnly, but her lower lip trembled so much that he could tell the promise cost her a lot.

  “Thank you. It’s still a little early. I think it should be something we both want.”

  “Yes. I could ...”

  “What did you want to say?”

  She curled a small lace handkerchief round her fingers. “I was thinking of Dominic. You could, of course, swap rooms, but what if he wakes up and comes in? That would be terrible.”

  “Doesn’t he have some play mates he could stay with?”

  “He used to play with Aunt Marca’s son at Mörby. The one who was the same age as Dominic. But the young boy died of measles. Oh, it was very sad. I’ll never get over it.”

  “I can well understand,” he said gently. “But what about the oldest boy? Can’t they play together?”

  “Yes...“ she said hesitantly. “I suppose Dominic could stay there for a few days. In the near future.” She hurriedly added.

  “Yes, in the near future. Because I‘ve learned that if you’re unsure whether you’re doing the right thing or not, then you shouldn’t do it. And Anette... I don’t want it to be a sacrifice on your part.”

  “You mustn’t think like that! I’m prepared to meet you.”

  ‘Out of duty or not?’ he thought, but didn’t want to ask her more questions. He was afraid that it was just duty that drove her. She sat as stiff as a board with a despondent, almost desperate look in her eyes.

  “You’re really quite attractive, Anette” he said, surprised. “I can see your delicate features here in the evening sun.”

  “No, I’m not pretty. I know that. I’ve been told that.”

  “Who said that?”

  “Somebody. I don’t remember who. When I was young.”

  Mikael smiled bitterly. “If ninety nine people tell you you’re pretty and one person says you’re ugly, then you believe that one person.”

  “Well, yes,” she said uneasily. “It may be quite true. But you also think that I have a harsh expression on my face, don’t you?”

  “Not harsh exactly. Closed, perhaps. Prudish.”

  “Ugh, I’ll bear that in mind in future.”

  He got up. “Anyway, Anette, I’ve recovered now and I can’t just walk around, doing nothing. I need to do something.”

  “But you’re such a great help to me! In the house, the garden. In everything.”

  “Well, they’re only random chores. The only thing I can do is be a soldier, and I don’t want to be one.”

  “Then you could go hunting,” she suggested vaguely.

  He made a grimace. “I’m no hunter. A hunter is nothing but a person who likes to see a creature die. No. I studied once, I hardly got started but now I’d like to continue doing that. If I’ve got the talent for it, of course. I’d like a job, Anette. It means a lot to a person to know that they are capable and that they’re contributing something to their field. If only I knew what that was!”

  She sent him a puzzled look. “Now you’ve got that absent-minded expression in your eyes,” she said. “It frightens me. You’re so far away.”

  “Yes,” he said dreamily. “ Perhaps I’m not quite well yet.”

  “You’re certainly doing much better,” she said as if to console them both. “Oh, Dominic’s calling me. I’ll have to go.”

  She hurried out. Maybe she had been grateful to slip away. Mikael walked over to the window and looked out. The countryside disappeared before his dreaming eyes, eclipsed by a white mist. Shouts from faraway reached him, and moaning voices. And far, far away, he sensed someone or something dark hidden in the thick, white mist. He had felt this once before, but this time the dark spot came closer. Maybe one day he would find out what it was.

  He felt a violent shiver. Although he feared this unknown, he was also drawn to it in some strange way. He both longed for it and suspected it was an utterly destructive force.

  The shouts resounded in the vacuum and began roaring so loudly that he was forced to cover his ears to shut out the noise. He broke into a sweat, and he stood with closed eyes as he breathed heavily and moaned until the attack passed, and everything returned to normal.

  Then he fell on his knees and embraced the dog. Its moist nose nuzzled against his ear in a sign of compassion and understanding.

  Chapter 8

  Mikael tried to resume his studies at the University of Uppsala. It was not far from home, so it could easily be combined with his domestic life. Nevertheless it was not long before he had to give up. The strange attacks would come more frequently, and he found them mentally tiring because he didn’t understand them. The wall between him and the surrounding world was still there, although Troll and Dominic would manage, from time to time, to break through it.

  Anette had a doctor come and examine Mikael but, of course, he could find nothing wrong with him. Medical science knew nothing about mental disorders, and the doctor asked him a lot of questions which were totally wrong. He suggested blood-letting, which made Mikael furious.

  The army kept on asking whether Mikael would soon be back in service, but he kept telling them no, and referred to his illness. He had been promoted to captain without having done anything in particular to deserve it. This made Anette immensely proud while Mikael just felt ill at ease.

  Their marriage worked somehow. They tried to get close to one another in the few areas they had in common: their love of their son and the dog and the daily running of the farm and the house. When they touched upon more complex matters and would discuss other topics, the difficulties would arise immediately. Their philosophies were different and they often didn’t understand one another, although Mikael at least tried to see things from his wife’s perspective. But neither of them dared to take the first step towards a physical union.

  Mikael always tried to be kind and considerate of others. It was only when he was alone in his room or when the attacks set in, that he fell into despair. He would sit for a long time with his face buried in his hands, in anguish over the unfathomable force that came from somewhere deep inside him, growing with each attack and threatening to pull him down into total darkness. He was powerless to stop it. Powerless over his life in general. He was going nowhere, didn’t know what he wanted, and was estranged from his fellow human beings. In the evening, he would draw the curtains carefully so that not the least bit of light could enter the room.

  But his son, Dominic, was of great help to him. Although he was only five, he had real empathy and a deep understanding of others. When things were most difficult for Mikael, he always tried to hide his attacks of melancholy from Anette. But Dominic would come and sit next to him, put his tiny hand in his and just be there. Then a tearful Mikael would draw his son to him in deep gratitude. It didn’t frighten the boy.

  Mikael’s view of Anette had changed. He would often gaze at her when she didn’t notice it, hoping he could understand her by doing so. He wondered what she was like beneath the steely discipline her mother had enforced on her. However, considering their awkward relationship with each other, Mikael would probably never find out.

  In Poland, the war ran its course. Carl Gustav won major battles and conquered Poland, but it was a bitter triumph. The Poles rebelled violently and the Swedes battled hard to keep their position. The King was feeling increasingly uneasy about the situation.

  Marca Christiana had given birth to a son, whom she called Gabriel, and was now on her way back home. Back to her oldest son, Gustav Adolf, the only son left after the measles epidemic. She longed so much to see him again, to hold him in her arms and weep with him for the two little ones that had passed away. Her pain at not being with them in their final hour was immense. And now she was anxious to return and make amends with Gustav Adolf, who was now nine.

  Gabriel Oxenstierna journeyed back with her. He was better able to conceal the pain over the death of the two sons, but his sorrow was definitely there. He had been made Reich Marshal and was eager to get home and begin his new duties instead of taking part in the pointless chaos in Poland. He also thought a lot about his foster son, Mikael. He didn’t like the reports he received from home because he simply didn’t understand them. Was the boy a coward? Was it a case of desertion? Or was he really so damaged in his soul, as Anette had said? He wanted to be at home so that he could see for himself.

  Goodness knows how long the fragile peace in Mikael and Anette’s marriage would have lasted if Gabriel Oxenstierna had not returned home. After observing his foster son for a few months, he pulled him aside.

  “When do you intend to return to serve again?”

  Mikael looked down. “I don’t know. I’d rather not return at all.”

  The tall civil servant and officer turned crimson in the face. “You’d rather not return? Is that all you have to say? Tell me, are you a coward?”

  ‘Coward,’ Mikael thought with bitterness. ‘Are you a coward if you go through hell just for the sake of somebody else’s whim?’

  “No, Uncle Gabriel. I’m sick. Seriously sick.”

  “That isn’t what the doctor says.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just can’t live among other people. I’ve never been able to and now it’s worse than ever. I’m being pulled into a kind of vacuum that threatens to swallow me.”

  Count Oxenstierna stared searchingly at him for a while. “Rubbish. I don’t want to hear such nonsense. You’re a captain in the army, thanks to my influence, and now you’re here doing nothing! Well, not nothing – I can see that you’re keeping the farm in fine shape, but that isn’t enough if you’re a captain in His Majesty the King’s army. Especially now. The Danes fear that King Carl Gustav will invade the German Realm then Denmark, so Frederik III has declared war on Sweden.”

  Carl Gustav X was secretly delighted that he could retain his honour and break up from Poland, which was becoming increasingly difficult for him to keep. Or, as he put it: “This miserable country is so ravaged by war that my poor soldiers can’t even find any food.”

  Gabriel Oxenstierna went on. “His Majesty the King wants me by his side and when the King summons me, I must obey. But I want you with me. You must join me on duty from now on so that I can keep an eye on you. It’s bound to get the better of your melancholy!”

  Melancholy? The word sent a stream of unpleasantness through Mikael. When was the last time he had heard that word? From an old man in Livonia. Snowy weather. Cold feet. The smoke that rose from the houses. A gravestone in a deserted church... The dead aren’t good people ...

  “Just you wait and see: A spot of action will liven you up,” said Gabriel Oxenstierna jovially. “Life in the field has turned many a weakling into a man.”

  His intentions were good, but his reasoning was based entirely on his own background. In his kin, everyone had been warriors and officers. Mikael did not have those traditions in his family. But all of a sudden, Mikael felt that this was the route he should take in life. What was the point in objecting? He had been sucked into a career as a soldier, just as a whirlpool pulls you in to its centre. For Mikael, it was useless trying to fight it. Sooner or later, he would have to let go.

  He nodded in bitter resignation, promising to join Gabriel Oxenstierna. After all, he had nothing else to do. He had been at home for six months and nothing had changed. He still hadn’t found a purpose in life.

  The evening before Mikael was due to leave, the event he had feared the most finally happened: Anette witnessed one of his attacks.

  The evening had begun so well. They had been up later than usual, and suddenly Mikael said that he was hungry.

  “At this time of night? When everybody else has gone to bed?”

  “Let’s just go into the kitchen and make something.”

  “We? We can’t do that!”

  “Why not?”

  “No, honestly! There are rules ...”

  He leaned forward. “Yes, Anette, there are rules that it would be wise to break. But then, of course, you can’t cook. What are you good at, in fact?”

  He provoked her on purpose because he knew her after all. Her cheeks flushed red, but he went on, “Well, then, I’ll make something myself. I’ve done it before.”

  Anette had got up. “No, it’s not that. Of course I can make food. I often did that back in France. Come, let me throw something together. At least, I hope I can,” she finished with a giggle.

  He smiled: “That would be nice.”

  The kitchen was the maid’s domain and the family members would only go there to give orders about the meals of the day. It was a large kitchen with a huge stove and lots of pots and pans hanging on the wall. Anette looked around helplessly.

  “I can’t find my way around here at all,” she said, agitated and a little ashamed. “I believe this is the door to the pantry.”

  Mikael had brought a candle with him. They both stepped into the pantry.

  “There’s plenty of food here,” he said. “Here’s a basket with eggs ...”

  “And I’ll cut a bit of the ham that’s hanging here. I can make a French omelette.”

  “Splendid! Bread and butter... and cheese, we’ll take that.”

  “The fire in the stove has gone out.”

  “There are enough embers to get it going again. Let me fix it!”

  Shortly afterwards, the kitchen table was laid with delicious food. Anette tried somewhat unsuccessfully to make the omelette she remembered from her childhood. She was agitated like never before.

  While they were eating, Mikael said pensively, “This is just so nice and cozy, Anette. Why haven’t we thought of this sooner?”

  She stiffened and became tense at once. “It’s not good for the master and the mistress to ... oh, sorry, yes, of course it is nice and cozy!”

  “I’ve never felt that I’m part of a master and mistress.”

  “Well, you are and you must never forget it!”

  “Why not? Maybe this is the crux of the matter?”

  “What matter?”

  “Oh, nothing. Can I have some more beer?”

  She poured some beer. “What do you think the maids will say tomorrow when they see that we’ve messed the place up?”

  “Surely we’ll clean the place up before we leave?”

  “Clean? You must be mad. We can’t do that ...”

  He put his hand over hers and squeezed it almost threateningly. “We’ll clean the place and then no more nonsense, understand?”

  “Nonsense?” she whispered, but she had turned pale and stopped protesting. She cleared the table without a word and rinsed the things that they had used. But Mikael did most of the work. When they were nearly finished, Anette glanced at him and was shocked. He stood completely motionless, staring at the cleared table with a totally blank expression.

 

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