Andreas went out. From the window they could see him say something to the driver. Then a young woman got out of the carriage, helped by her servants. Andreas had turned towards her. They saw him greet her politely and then take her arm and lead her inside.

  “I wonder who this could be?” said Matilda, puzzled.

  They all went down to the hallway. The young, dark-haired woman hesitated by the door at seeing such a large gathering.

  Andreas made a short introduction: “Anette de Saint-Colombe, married name Lind of the Ice People.”

  “Oh, God,” whispered Jessica.

  “Is my husband here?” asked Anette nervously. “And my son?”

  Kaleb was somewhat blunt when he answered her: “Your son is in good hands at the neighbouring farm. But Mikael has taken his own life.”

  A small sound came from Anette, and all colour vanished from her face. Matilda hurried to offer her a chair and said tersely and in a low voice: “Kaleb, honestly!”

  To Anette she quickly said, “He’s still alive. They’re working on him in the room next door. We’re not sure that they’ll succeed.”

  “Will you allow me to see him, please?” whispered the guest. “Please?”

  “Yes, if you promise not to get hysterical. Please remain calm and quiet!”

  Anette nodded, and Matilda opened the door for her. She blinked lightly because of all the tallow candles in the room. Three people turned towards her – a lady with the poise that comes from being born and bred in a cultured environment, and a young man with the most incredible eyes Anette had ever seen. They radiated so much goodness that she felt a strong urge to lean against him, crying out her anxiety, despair and confusion. The third person was a very old lady with deliberate movements.

  But Anette only had eyes for the man in the bed. Next to him sat a little boy with eyes the same colour as Dominic and with his hands on her husband’s chest.

  Mikael was not a pretty sight at that moment. Most of the brown-black witches brew had trickled down his neck and chin and onto the bed linen. Cecilie, who understood who the newly arrived person was, hurriedly wiped off the worst of it.

  “Oh, Mikael,” whispered Anette in a weak voice. Then she caught sight of the things on the table. She gasped and made the sign of the cross. “Holy Mother of God.”

  The skull of an infant, the dried bats, a shrunken hand, and many other objects lay openly on the table.

  “You can’t do that, it’s-”

  “We have to try everything,” interrupted Cecilie. “What would you have done in our place?”

  “I would have prayed to the Virgin Mary.”

  “Has she helped Mikael so far?”

  “I’m sorry to say that Mikael doesn’t have the right faith. But the Mother of God has always stood by my side.”

  ‘Against Mikael?’ thought Cecilie, but she didn’t say so. Instead she said in a loud voice: “Well, then I suppose you’d better start praying to the heavenly Mother right here and now. If Mikael is to wake up alive, we need all the help we can get.”

  Anette took her at her word. She fell to her knees by Mikael’s bed, took his lifeless hand between hers and said long, whispering prayers in Latin. Although it was against her will, Cecilie could not help feeling quite touched.

  Everyone else was busy tidying up after making the brew. Mattias felt quite sorry for the pathetic creature on her knees, praying and wiping her nose and her eyes. When he had finished, he put his hand on her shoulder.

  Anette looked up at him with puffy eyes, her face streaked with tears.

  “I came as quickly as I possibly could,” whined Anette in her heavy French accent. “I did all I could, but he arrived sooner than me.”

  “So you knew then he would do it?”

  “He told me in his letter to me.” She tried to control her tears. “He misunderstood it all.”

  Liv spoke gently: “Mikael told us that it wasn’t because of his marriage. He suffered from melancholy. An evil force had taken power over him. A lost soul had touched him.”

  Anette looked questioningly at them. She didn’t understand anything of what was going on.

  Cecilie was not quite as sensitive. “You’re not entirely without guilt in all this,” was all she said.

  “Cecilie, not now!” said Liv in a low and warning voice.

  Anette bowed her head. “You’re right,” she whispered to Cecilie. “I feel so guilty.”

  Cecilie gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “You just carry on with your prayers, my friend. It certainly can’t do any harm. Who knows? They might even help!”

  This was a major confession on Cecilie’s part.

  Anette looked puzzled at Niklas, and Liv explained: “He’s one of the specially chosen among the Ice People. He has a rare gift: His name is Niklas and he Dominic’s grand-cousin. If anybody can save Mikael, it’s him. He has healing powers in his hands.”

  Anette made the sign of the cross. “A gift of the Lord! A little saint!”

  “Well,” murmured Cecilie, “The little saint can be quite devilish, if he wants to be!”

  But Anette had taken Niklas’s hands in her own. “Save him, Niklas, please! He means so much to me, you see.”

  The little five-year old looked quite distraught and Anette removed her hands immediately. “Sorry. I shan’t disturb you in your Protestant prayers. We can pray together, you and I.”

  Niklas thought that the lady sounded a bit strange but merely nodded. Prayers? He never prayed.

  “I’ll go out and take a little rest,” whispered Liv. The others nodded.

  Mattias and Cecilie sat down. They were exhausted. After a while, they could see that little Niklas was about to fall asleep. He had also been truly brave and persevering. They placed him next to Mikael with Niklas’s hands lying across Mikael’s chest. Niklas fell asleep at once.

  Anette got up. Her knees were hurting and she sat together with the others. “What do you make of it?” she asked, her lips trembling. “Will he survive?”

  “That’s impossible to say,” answered Mattias quietly.

  “We’ve done everything in our power and all we can do now is wait. At least he’s still alive and he hasn’t become weaker.”

  “How did it happen?”

  Mattias told her that his and Mikael’s Granddad, Are, had passed away and that they had found them holding hands.

  “Oh, my poor Mikael! Are the two of you... are you closely related to him?”

  “Not particularly. The old lady you just saw leaving the room is my Granddad’s sister. She’s Baroness Liv Meiden. This is her daughter, Margravine Cecilie Paladin, and I’m the old lady’s Grandson. I’m Baron Mattias Meiden, and I’m a doctor.”

  Baron? Margravine? And she had always thought that Mikael’s family was nothing! Like everybody of noble birth, Anette was very particular of distinguishing between nobility and common people. She had agreed to marry Mikael because she knew that his mother was a born Breuberg and was the cousin of the very distinguished Marca Christiana. But his father’s family was also distinguished. She certainly had not expected that.

  She felt very much ashamed because she had to admit that she had always looked down on Mikael’s extraction. Not so long ago, she had frowned at the well-kept but somewhat modest farm they called Linden Avenue, wishing that he at least came from Graastensholm instead! Mikael’s wife was having a difficult time of it right now, and her difficulties were far from over.

  Anette did not leave Mikael’s sickbed. They barely managed to get her to come down to the meals. She even slept in his room where she sat in a chair all through the night. The following day she was reunited with Dominic. All the boy knew was that his father was seriously ill. The young boy was so shocked and upset that Anette had to assure him hat everything would have a happy ending.

  Niklas was allowed to run out to the other children now and then, but otherwise Anette would prefer him to be close to Mikael, something Niklas complained about loudly from time to time.

  On the morning of the third day, Cecilie came in to keep Anette company. They had all been there to help keep a vigil, and Mattias, because he was a doctor, would turn up several times a day.

  “How are you doing?” asked Cecilie compassionately. “You must be totally exhausted.”

  Anette sat down next to her, grateful for the words of sympathy. “I haven’t had time to think about that.”

  She liked Cecilie’s company, not only because she was a margravine but because she liked her disposition: Cecilie was pleasant, charming and sincere.

  “Oh, if only he‘d confided in me,” sighed Anette.

  Cecilie looked pensively at her. “Did you give him the impression that you’d help him though? Didn’t you do quite the opposite? You distanced yourself from his behaviour and a part of this is actually your fault. He reasoned that if you were a widow, you could be free to marry somebody else.”

  Her words cut Anette like knives.

  “But that’s just not true. I love Mikael!”

  What a relief it was to say those words! She who had never dared to imply anything like that to the tall stranger who was her husband.

  “Well, why didn’t he know that? Why was he so lonely that he couldn’t even confide in his wife?”

  “I couldn’t tell him,” sobbed Anette. “I wanted to, so badly, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed to.”

  “By whom?”

  “By the church.”

  “Since when has the church forbidden anybody to talk about love?”

  ‘Anette,’ thought Mikael. ‘Dearest Anette. I can hear everything you are saying but I’m unable to move anything, even my eyelids.’

  “The church...” said Anette. “My mother...”

  “Ah! What did your mother say?”

  “She said .. No, I can’t say it.”

  “Well, I think you should,” said Cecilie, calmly and slightly saddened. “Dear child, you’re probably the worst woman on earth Mikael could have married. He’s so sensitive that he’s suffering for it now. He’s so receptive of other people’s moods, so full of consideration, that it’s made him sick.”

  Anette hid her face in her hands. Cecilie was not without compassion, but she went on. This unpleasant conversation was necessary if the girl was ever to wake up.

  “How have you lived up to your responsibility as a wife?”

  “I’ve never denied him.”

  “This may be so, but Mikael can sense whether something like that is genuinely felt. And what have you given him? You see, Anette: Love is giving without expecting to get something in return.”

  ‘You mustn’t be too hard, Aunt Cecilie,’ thought Mikael. ‘She can’t help it.’

  “I couldn’t,” whispered Anette. “My mother said so many horrible things about men.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That they were pigs. That they tempted and seduced, and I wasn’t to accept that. That we women had to give in a few times, just in order to have children, but apart from that women have no duty to accept their horrible lust.”

  Cecilie sat quietly. Then she asked: “Are these words yours or your mother’s?”

  “My mother would always say those things. Day in and day out. She was a very strong-willed woman. She knew everything. Everybody asked for her advice. You couldn’t help believing her. What she said was always the right thing.”

  “What about your father?”

  “Well, he... I hardly remember him. He had so many faults.”

  “Do you find Mikael repulsive?”

  “No, not repulsive. Just frightening.”

  “Well, my dearest,” sighed Cecilie. “I can’t think of anybody less frightening than Mikael!”

  “Well, he’s just so tall! So tall and masculine. It feels me feel so uncomfortable when ... he’s near me.”

  “How uncomfortable?”

  “No, I really can’t talk about that!”

  “Is it something you must fight against?”

  Anette gave her a surprised look.

  “Inside yourself, I mean?” continued Cecilie.

  “Holy Virgin Mary, save me from all sin,” whispered Anette, making the sign of the cross.

  ‘Anette, Anette,’ thought Mikael sadly.

  Cecilie understood that she had pressed the girl as far as was possible. She changed the subject. “Now listen: Nobody knows whether Mikael will survive. But if, contrary to expectations, he does, what are your intentions?”

  “I’ll ask for his forgiveness. Ask him for permission to begin afresh.”

  Cecilie nodded. “Do you hope that he’ll survive?”

  Anette burst into tears once more. “More than anything else in the world.”

  “What about the other man?”

  “The other man? Oh, Henri! This is something Mikael has completely misunderstood. I was a foreigner at the Swedish Court and then a Frenchman arrived and I was happy to have a compatriot to talk to. But that I would want to marry Henri ? That I was in love with him? No, it’s an impossible thought. It was precisely because Henri was not a threat that I could talk so easily and effortlessly with him.” Anette laughed a little, sad laughter. “Henri is Mikael’s complete opposite!”

  Cecilie smiled. “You’ve just revealed yourself. I didn’t believe you were in love with Mikael until now... I’ll tell you something that nobody else knows, Anette. Something that shows how important it is to be able to give. I once lived in a marriage similar to yours, from Mikael’s perspective. Alexander and I married one another for conventional reasons – not because I did not love him because, believe me, I did! However, it was implicit that I was never to show him love because he would not be able to receive it.”

  Anette was wide-eyed.

  Cecilie went on. “Can you imagine what it’s like to live, year in and year out, with a person you love, but you’re not allowed to show love for? Can you imagine what it’s like to lie in bed at night when your whole body is yearning for his closeness?”

  “But why? Did he have somebody else?”

  “No,” smiled Cecilie. “I can’t reveal to you the reason why. It’s too private. But, believe me, I often thought of taking my own life. My only consolation was that Alexander needed me very badly when he was wounded in the Thirty Years’ War. Anyway, we found one another eventually, and our love became deep and mutual. Nevertheless, I’m fighting every day, even today, Anette. It’s not that Alexander’s unfaithful to me, he’d never dream of that. It’s because I can never be completely sure that he won’t fall back into his old tendency again. This is why I have to keep his interest and give of my whole body and soul. Do you understand?”

  “Tendency? I don’t understand.”

  “Think about it. But this is just between you and me you understand.”

  Anette stared at Cecilie. She was shocked. “The margrave? But he belongs to the high nobility.“

  ”Now I’m beginning to understand what Mikael has been up against. Alexander loves me, and we’re very happy together.”

  “But- but-”

  “You must be generous, my friend. Really show Mikael that you’re fond of him, and that you like it when he touches you. Let go of yourself and give all you have in you when he lies in your arms.”

  “No!” exclaimed Anette in horror. “That’s something only prostitutes do!”

  “Oh, no. The only ones who don’t do it are narrow-minded, prudish and petty women like- Well, I’m sorry, but like your mother. And yourself. What about your father? Was he happy in his marriage with your mother?”

  “My father?” Anette thought for a moment. The whispers, the gossip when he passed away... She was so little at the time. Without realising that she was thinking aloud, she said weakly: “They said that he’d committed suicide. And my mother was triumphant! She said that my father was weak.”

  When the full impact of what she had just said dawned on her, she was overcome by nausea. Her own mother! And now Anette was herself committing the same gruesome, loveless murder on Mikael. Her own Mikael!

  “Oh, Holy Mother of Jesus:” she whispered with a stifled sob.

  “Yes,” said Cecilie with a sad look in her eyes. She put a hand on the unhappy woman’s arm. “I thought so. Dear Anette, you have great strength from your belief in God. That is something that we others don’t have, I’m sad to say. Your heavenly mother is a powerful guide for you. But you mustn’t allow your faith to be a division between you and Mikael any more. Your own mother’s twisted opinions have done that, but Catholicism is more generous than you were brought up to believe. Heaven is well pleased that people love one another, also in a bodily sense!”

  Anette was dazed as she turned towards Cecilie.

  ”How do you know all this? Has Mikael ...?”

  “All Mikael has said is that you’re unable to love him, and that your marital life has been very limited because of it. He didn’t want to force anything on you.”

  Anette turned her face away and tried to stop her bitter tears. “Oh, Mikael, won’t you please?” she whispered. “Won’t you please come back to me?”

  At that moment, Mikael decided to fight against death. For the first time in a very long while, he yearned to be a part of life.

  Chapter 14

  On the morning of the fourth day, they could see a slight improvement in Mikael and before evening, his breathing was clear.

  They had no idea what had been the decisive factor – the herbal brew, Niklas’s hands, Anette’s prayers or Mikael’s own vital force. The main thing was that it seemed that Mikael would survive, and a relieved Niklas was set free after having listened to many outpourings of gratitude.

  On the fifth day, Are was taken to his final resting place. Anette joined the family at the funeral because she was sure Mikael would have wanted her to. She could not help marvelling at this family, their solidarity and the warmth that existed between them all. All of a sudden, she wished that she was one of them. She understood that they were all bound by the ties of family and that Mikael had, without being aware of it, been missing the others. Being isolated from them had contributed to his desperate loneliness. And what had she done to help him? No, she couldn’t cope thinking about it. She would have to look forward.

 

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