Winter Storm, page 13
“What’s that?”
Eldar looked at her for a moment. “Forget it. Have you anything else to talk about?”
She thought for a moment. “Nothing in particular. Do you?”
“Not yet. But I believe we will pretty soon. Villemo ... You must be very careful!”
“I won’t betray you.”
“It’s not us I’m thinking of. This place isn’t nice. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something here that I don’t like.”
“I agree with you.”
“How are your days otherwise?”
She sighed. “Well, I’m allowed to sleep in remarkably late in the morning. I’m not allowed to appear until the first meal when I serve the table. Afterwards I do various chores in the house – and they’re just too boring to even talk about. The old hag is after me the whole time and keeps me working. I’m not allowed to do this and not allowed to do that. I’m not allowed to go here and not allowed to go there. Eldar, I’m the world’s worst at domestic work. Do you think I like it more now? No! I hate it with all my heart and guess what I say to myself behind the woman’s back? If thoughts could kill ... But the strange helper – Syver is his name – is a sort of farm bailiff or right hand man to the farmer. I only see him in the morning. Then he disappears while the old, terrified woman, Berit, slogs away from morning to evening. Oh, by the way,” Villemo laughed. “Do you remember I suggested that I could play dumb? Well, she’s deaf! She can speak but doesn’t hear a sound. She simply reads people’s lips.”
“Is that so? Well, I also get up uncommonly late in the morning. One of those farmhands comes and wakes me up and if I get up too early, they’re furious.”
Eldar was silent for a while. “Where’s your room?”
“It’s a girl’s room in a remote wing of the house, behind the kitchen somewhere. There’s room for four, but I’m on my own there.”
He turned his head towards the house. “Which window?”
“There isn’t one. Only a peephole. In the back.”
“How is your bed?” he asked slowly.
“My bed? Well, what can I say? A bottom of hay, of course, and on top of the hay a hide which I lie on, and then I have another hide over me. It’s warm enough, but the hides are too short so I have to curl up to stop my feet getting cold.”
Eldar wriggled slightly. He was ashamed because he wanted to know what her bed was like, what she looked like, where she was lying ...
“Do you have any night clothes?”
“No,” she said, surprised. “I sleep in my shift, but I’m careful with it so I don’t always use it.”
Doesn’t use her shift. Lies naked, bare ... He felt dizzy but he pulled himself together.
“Now the slave drivers are calling me. See you tomorrow.”
“Alright. Eldar?”
He remained standing. She had placed her hand on his arm.
“I ... wish I saw you more often. It feels so lonely.”
He grit his teeth. “We must be careful, you know.”
“Well, yes, of course.” She looked down and pulled back her hand. Then she hurried inside, a slight, little figure with swaying hips and dancing braids.
Although Eldar was so tired that he felt paralysed in his whole body, he was unable to fall asleep that night. He tossed and turned on the hard bed. At last he sat up, and put his feet on the cold floor in the farmhands’ room. He banged his fists down on the edge of the bed again and again.
“Damn, damn, damn,” he repeated absent-mindedly.
This was the only way he could express his emotions.
Across Norway, the popular uprising was spreading relentlessly. It was fuelled by patriotism, but it was also a rebellion against the inhumane bailiffs. The uprising grew secretly, spreading to ever larger circles, igniting a fanatic fire in the eyes of the oppressed, and was whispered over the pub tables and in secret rooms ...
The target for the first attack had already been chosen: the Tobrønn farm in Romerike. The target was an obvious choice for several reasons. But above all because you could strike a certain person there while he was unprotected. They were just waiting for the right moment.
At last, Tristan, the young, unhappy and confused boy, returned to Denmark. He was cured from the shameful disease for the time being, at least on the surface. Nobody, not even his parents, Jessica and Tancred, or Grandma Cecilie and Aunt Gabriella, could see anything on him. But he would often lock himself in his room in the evening, and he no longer looked like himself.
Gudrun’s despicable attack on him had hurt him deeply, like a long, penetrating spear. She had transformed a young, vulnerable boy’s innocent life, hurting him forever. Tristan was never the same again. His whole life was shaped by the unfortunate event on the Black Forest’s mountain pasture. It was to lead his fate in devious ways – which won’t be described here.
Tristan came to truly live up to his name, ‘Born to sorrow’.
Chapter 9
Niklas Lind of the Ice People came galloping into Akershus Castle and Fortress.
“Is Dominic Lind of the Ice People still here?” he asked the officer on duty.
“From Stockholm? Yes, he is. I believe he’s due to leave the day after tomorrow.” The officer smiled. “I can tell by your eyes that you’re related.”
“You’re right. We can’t deny that.”
The two relatives met immediately afterward.
“Niklas? You’ve been riding at tremendous speed. What’s the matter? I hope it has nothing to do with Uncle Brand?”
“No. Villemo.”
Dominic stiffened. “Villemo? What happened?”
“She’s disappeared. Look. Uncle Kaleb received this piece of bark yesterday evening.”
Dominic read in silence. “Goodness,” he whispered. “Do you know any more?”
“Yes. The bailiff called this morning. He said that Villemo had stabbed Mons Woller and that Eldar Black Forest killed his friend. Both of them have disappeared.”
Dominic had turned very pale by now. “Eldar Black Forest? Has Villemo disappeared with him?”
“It seems so.” Niklas’s voice trembled.
“Have you searched in the Black Forest?”
“The bailiff’s men were there yesterday and they searched it thoroughly, but Villemo and Eldar weren’t there. However, it would seem that there were several others who took part in the scuffle when Mons Woller was killed. The bailiff says that he’s lost two men, and he suspects a secret insurgency movement.”
“Which Villemo may be taking part in?”
“Or has been drawn into. Uncle Kaleb has already ridden out to try and track her down, but he doesn’t stand much of a chance on his own, and he also needs to keep an eye on the farm.”
Dominic fumbled with the piece of bark. His yellow eyes looked absent-mindedly at the writing. “Is it true what they say about the thugs?”
“We don’t know. But you can expect anything from the Woller People.”
“And from Eldar Black Forest,” Dominic said. A deep shadow crossed his face. “Imagine, Villemo together with that ... rascal!”
“Do you have to leave now?”
“To Sweden? No, I can’t leave now! We must help Uncle Kaleb. I’ll accompany you back to Graastensholm. Will you wait a while? I need to give my companion orders and a few letters for home and to His Majesty.”
“Of course.”
Dominic returned the piece of bark which he had held tightly in his hand the whole time.
“Eldar Black Forest,” he whispered. “God help our little Villemo!”
It was now a week since Villemo had come to the farm. She sat up in bed now, her feet cold as usual. It was probably this vague discomfort that had woken her up. But now that she was awake, something else had caught her attention. A sound came from outside.
She tiptoed out of bed, banged a toe against a bedpost and gasped with pain. Villemo always reacted with anger when she hit herself, her toes and head were particularly sensitive. She knew it was childish but she couldn‘t help it.
She pushed the wooden shutter from the peephole. A raw wind hit her face. It was still fairly dark outside in the early dawn. The farm seemed quiet, but she could see a yellow light in the kitchen window, which was on the same side of the house as her room. The light was interrupted by dark shadows now and then, as if somebody were walking in front of the window.
Villemo looked out into the grounds. What was that? Something moved from the other buildings and was on its way towards them. There were people, in a long row. That’s where the sound came from. A rhythmic, dragging, moaning sound.
Suddenly she heard a short yell from one of the figures followed by a muffled but very angry voice. She was unable to see them clearly. She had to strain her eyes. There were lots of them. That much she had time to see – they had disappeared behind one of the buildings.
Villemo wanted to see more. She quickly put on her skirts and shoes and tiptoed through the back door by the kitchen. She should have brought her shawl because it would be cold. She was only wearing her sleeveless shift. Which building had they come from?
She looked about her from her new perspective. At the same time, Eldar had got up from his restless sleep. He had only slept in brief intervals – then he had woken up from his erotic dreams in which a fleeing, pure and innocent fairy tempted him to follow her. Once he had managed to grab her. Then an archangel had suddenly stood there lowering a sword between Eldar and the fairy, and the angel had yellow eyes and black hair and looked like ... that Swede, what was his name, he was her relative.
Now Eldar was awake, and he had heard something too, though he hadn’t registered it. He didn’t know what it was that made him move to the window. At that moment, a slight figure slipped out through the kitchen door in the main house. The figure stood there for a moment and then hurried across the courtyard near him.
It was Villemo! Eldar threw a cape over himself and tiptoed out, quietly, so as not to awaken the farmhands, who were sleeping in the chamber next door.
Villemo’s heart was pounding from excitement. She stopped by the corner of a building – she thought it was the brewery – and looked around it. At that same moment, a hand was put over her mouth from behind.
“Shh,” Eldar whispered. “What are you doing here?”
Her eyes were wide in the dusk. Good God, he thought. She hardly has any clothes on. All his male instincts came to life, roused as they already were after the dreams. Villemo pointed silently and eagerly round the corner. She put her finger over her lips.
“Wait here,” Eldar whispered.
But you could never say that to Villemo! As he crept round the corner of the building, she followed after him like a shadow – but to be on the safe side, she fumbled for his hand. Although it was impractical, he grabbed her hand, holding it in his while he wondered what kind of girl she really was. Was she brave or just too stupid to understand the danger? Her hand was so small that it almost disappeared in his. It triggered a softness in Eldar’s hardened heart.
To begin with they found it difficult to discern anything amid the buildings and trees. But then they saw the procession. It stopped right in front of one of the larger houses. A large bush hid them both so that they were practically invisible.
Villemo squeezed Eldar’s hand hard. He dared to loosen the grip and put his arm around her bare shoulders. She was so focused on the scene in front of them that she let it happen. She even crept closer to him. She interpreted it as pure excitement that his heart beat so hard against her shoulders.
A low door was opened in the building. It clearly led to the basement. Hushed voices gave orders. Now they could see it: one or two guards stood on either side of the procession, ordering the crouched figures down into the basement. There seemed to be both men and women among them. Villemo could hear stifled sobs, which were immediately answered with lashes from whips.
She pressed herself close to Eldar. “Did you see that?” she whispered incredulously.
The basement door was closed. A few of the guards had followed the people in, but a third person was walking towards Eldar and Villemo.
“Duck,” Eldar whispered.
She obeyed immediately. They squatted up against the wall, dead silent, and Villemo was very scared. The man walked past them. As he passed, Villemo saw who it was: Syver, the large farmer’s closest helper. When he had gone, Villemo tried to get up because she had a pain in her knees, but Eldar held her down. The basement door was opened and the two guards came out. They also passed close by Eldar and Villemo. She could feel how Eldar’s hand squeezed against her shoulder. They disappeared, but Eldar didn’t get up yet.
“That was one of the farmhands and his wife,” he whispered. “They all work in the cowshed and the stable. The other two are married as well. They never work all four at the same time, and they take turns to sleep. They’re all obnoxious people.”
“How have they been able to keep it secret?”
“They haven’t. There’s been a lot of gossip in the village that strange things take place here. There are bound to be several who have known about it, but never dared to say anything.”
“What are they doing out there in the fields so late in the autumn? And at night?”
“It’s impossible to know.”
“What are we to do, Eldar?”
“I don’t know yet. First we have to report to my contact.”
“Who’s that?”
“A knife grinder from the village. He comes every fourteen days.”
“Can we call on him?”
“God, no. We can’t reveal ourselves. But I think he’ll come in the next few days. We must learn more before then.”
“How do we do that?”
Eldar’s voice was pensive. “I must go into that basement.”
“Me, too,” Villemo said immediately.
He smiled. She suddenly realised that his hand was absent-mindedly caressing her bare arm. Very gently, carefully, back and forth. Villemo held her breath for a long while. Something was born that very moment. It rushed and tingled and warmed and burned; she focused on one single spot and a pang went through her breasts for a fraction of a second, a wonderful and confusing sensation. All of a sudden Eldar’s closeness became very meaningful. She sighed quietly.
If Eldar had kissed her there and then, she would have been defenceless. But he had no idea what was going on in her mind. He had no idea that he had already transformed this child into a woman.
Had he known, it is hard to say how he would have reacted. Villemo Kalebsdatter Elistrand belonged to another world than his, and she was forbidden territory. Much depended on whether he could return her as a virgin. If he committed an offence against her, that could be the end of him and his family in the Black Forest. He wasn’t so worried about himself, but his poor mother and all his siblings needed him desperately at their home in the Black Forest. If they ended up homeless because of him ... all those small children ... He just couldn’t.
Eldar was an experienced womaniser. He had always gotten what he wanted, which had made him cynical. He had meant what he had said about regarding women as sexual objects and that it was a waste of time having a sensible conversation with them. They had no brains. All they could do was giggle and flirt and be willing.
But Villemo Kalebsdatter was different. He didn’t think she was wiser than the others – although he was quite baffled when he saw that she could read and write. She was exceptional in many ways, he thought, but a child above all else, and that was something he must never forget. A crime against a child of the Ice People, and the master of the house ... He didn’t dare think any further about it.
He also had to be careful of the idolising crush she had on him. It was troublesome – but also quite flattering. For some stupid reason he didn’t want her to find out what a rascal he actually was. All those women he had worked his way through ... It was a coarse expression, which he felt best expressed the quick, unsatisfactory relationships he had had up until now. He just had to control his ever-increasing attraction to this innocent little being. It was dangerous and Eldar Black Forest was a man with a strong desire for sex.
Villemo sat completely quiet while she tried to curb the chaos raging within her. She had forgotten the pain in her knees. A supernatural, pure and chaste love? She could kiss that thought goodbye! She remembered what she had thought: ‘I never want to get married. Having children is yucky. I’ll never love anybody in that stupid, horrible way ...’
A house of cards had collapsed. She had been so very childish! But now she knew that her love couldn’t be ‘uncompromising’. She had thought it was innate in her to give all of herself and not hold back. But she had not been able to foresee this overwhelming, primitive feeling which gripped her entire body. She realised with shocking certainty that what she had called love until now had only been an unfinished beginning. Her love hadn’t been complete until now.
It scared her out of her wits because Villemo wasn’t like Sol, who had no inhibitions. If Sol wanted a man in her bed, she got him there and she would have a lovely time without any pangs of conscience. Villemo couldn’t imagine doing that sort of thing without thinking of her respect for her home and her parents. Her feelings for Eldar might make her ready to give him everything, but she would cry her heart out afterwards for the sake of her parents and the good, nice people at home.
This wonderful adventure with Eldar Black Forest wasn’t fun any more. She could no longer feel the empathy or rapport between them during this difficult task. She could no longer feel happy about his fantastic body or face. From now on she would not be satisfied with just that.
‘Good God, give my infant’s mind back to me!’ she thought. She started at the sound of Eldar’s voice.
