Winter Storm, page 8
“Do you think he’s safe at Barbro’s?”
“Yes, I believe he is. Nobody would search for him there.”
Barbro? A sting crept into Villemo’s heart. Her first pang of jealousy. Who was Barbro? The break was over and she tip-toed out again.
Barbro ... Who could she ask? Not the Black Forest people because they would never give an answer. Nor could she ask the Ice People on Linden Avenue or Graastensholm. They would suspect that mischief was brewing and tell the bailiff. What about Jesper’s son, Lars? He was outside of everything and too dumb to suspect her. But what if he went to the Black Forest people and bragged that she had spoken to him? That was a risk she would have to take. He didn’t mix with them so much and they looked down on him. It was only Eldar he talked to.
She got him in private as they were carrying roof material over to the others.
“Do you know of a Barbro, Lars?” she asked casually, bent over the pile she was to carry.
He straightened his back and glared stupidly. “Barbro? No. Only old Barbro. But she’s dead.”
“There’s no young woman by that name?”
“No. No, there isn’t anybody.”
“Maybe in another parish?”
“No.”
“Where did old Barbro live then?”
“In a hut.”
Just imagine!
“Where? In this village?”
“No, it was in Moberg. Up on the mountain ridge on the other end of Moberg. Down by that lake, you know. In the Dead Man’s Bog.”
That sounded nice.
“No, it can’t be the Barbro I was thinking of.”
“What does Miss Villemo want to do with her?”
“I’ve found a brooch on which it says Barbro.”
“We can ask the others!”
“No, I don’t want them to do anything about the brooch. It’s very delicate. I’ll ask my dad.”
Lars agreed with what Villemo had said and was ever so proud that she had confided in him. He wanted to brag to the Black Forest farmhands about that, but Miss Villemo wouldn’t approve of it. And he had an inkling that he wouldn’t get out of his struggle for prestige particularly victorious, so he kept quiet. But he certainly did sigh!
Villemo finished her voluntary work at Linden Avenue in a hurry and went back home.
“Dad,” she said pensively to Kaleb. “I’ve heard of a family with many children who are experiencing terrible hardship during this famine. Can I go over to their place with some food?”
She was totally ignorant about the fact that Silje had once used the same trick to come to Tengel’s rescue one Christmas Eve.
“What family is that?” asked Kaleb. “No family in the Parish of Graastensholm can be famished now, not after we’ve made our round of handouts.”
“They don’t live here but in the Parish of Moberg. Right on the border. May I?”
Kaleb was touched at the consideration that Villemo was showing. “Of course, Villemo. You take what you need, but not more than you can carry!”
“I’ll leave immediately. Thank you, Dad!”
She stopped in the door. “Erm ... it might be rather late. In case the mum needs help. With the young children and things like that.”
Kaleb frowned. “You must be home before it’s dark.”
Villemo hesitated. “It will probably be too late – I suppose I’d better stay overnight?”
“If need be, then you’d better do that. I don’t want you to walk among wolves and evil men. Somebody’s been killed, as you surely know. And Eldar Black Forest is still at large.”
A tiny, almost invisible smile played on Villemo’s lips.
“He won’t do me any harm. And I promise to be careful.”
Then she hurried out into the kitchen. Kaleb gazed at her. His expression, so full of tenderness, changed and became absent-minded, and for a moment anxiety filled it.
Like most in the family, he was uneasy about the yellow eyes. He had been in the Valley of the Ice People when Kolgrim’s evil persona had taken control and he had killed Tarjei. The horror which had filled Kaleb at the time had never left him.
He knew that Villemo was an enigma among the three young members of the Ice People, with their special eyes. It was obvious what the two others had been given in the way of gifts. But what about her? Was a restless disposition enough? Was there something more hidden in her? Something that everybody feared? Something which would break out one day?
Kaleb was scared, really very scared. Just as his wife, Gabriella was. Just as Andreas and Eli were scared of Niklas. Just as Mikael and Anette were of Dominic. All members of the kin feared what could happen because such was the curse of the Ice People. The uncertainty, the fear, the nerve-wracking waiting ... And all had their attention directed most of all on Villemo, his beloved daughter. She was the greatest element of uncertainty.
None of them had any inkling that the danger would appear in a completely different place, so utterly unexpected, that they would all be paralysed. In that fateful hour of the Ice People, it was to be revealed why the three with cats’ eyes were struck – or chosen, if you prefer that expression. Then all their resources would become evident once and for all. That was the day when you would see the footprints of Satan for the first time.
But that day was still hidden in an unknown future.
Villemo would have preferred to borrow a horse to progress more quickly, but then she would have been more conspicuous. It was better to keep a low profile.
She walked softly on foot until she came to the shortcut through the forest. Just like Sol, Villemo wasn’t at all afraid of the deep forest. She carried a bundle of food over her shoulder and wore warm clothes against the cold. So why worry?
But the trip could turn out to be unsuccessful. There was no guarantee that Eldar was in Dead Man’s Bog. It was the only Barbro she had heard about. And it certainly sounded better that he had sought refuge in a deceased woman’s house than with a young girl. A lot better! Villemo chose to accept that story. Although she ran almost all the way, time passed and darkness would soon close in at this time of the year. She had to hurry up if she was to reach the hut while it was still light.
She asked for directions in Moberg. Why was she visiting the Dead Man’s Bog, they asked. Surely nobody lived there. Barbro had passed away a long time ago. Yes, but Villemo wanted to reach the place for a special purpose. It was such an eerie place, they said, what would she do there? Fetch some hidden fishing tools, she said, though no-one really sent a young girl for that sort of thing.
Villemo changed the subject.
“Why is it called Dead Man’s Bog?” she asked.
“Well, it’s an old legend, but true. When the first settlers got there, the water was good for fishing, but a corpse was hanging in the forest. Nobody knew where it came from. Those people weren’t at all scared so they cut it down, muttering incantations over the sad remains. But ... they say that the corpse has been seen from time to time. When the winter storms rage, it dangles in the wind.”
“Hadn’t Barbro been scared?”
“We know nothing about that. She was the last of a kin that had lived there for years and years.“
“Is it easy to get there?”
“There was supposed to be a trail, but it’s been overgrown for a long time.”
She shuffled her feet. Then there was a lot of pointing out and descriptions. She had to cross another ridge and then she had to ... She memorised it all and set off.
Finally, she stood at the top of the ridge, looking down into a gloomy, forested valley. A small, overgrown bog shimmered in the abyss. From this distance she couldn’t see the house but it had to be there near the bog because that was the only water down there.
If there was a house left there at all, that is. How long was it since this Barbro had passed away? It could have been many, many years ago, and the house could have collapsed. The sun was low. Soon it would be gone. And how was she to follow the trail, which was almost invisible?
Nonsense! There was no darkness on her way to Eldar. No impenetrable hawthorn thicket. All the mountains disappeared and the valley became flat. This was because Villemo’s uncompromising love had paved the way for her, and it was invincible!
But what if Eldar wasn’t there? What if she was on her way to a deserted place with a bad reputation in the middle of an endless wilderness? The Dead Man’s Bog ... She was angry with herself because she had asked where that macabre name came from, and she was so easily moved by places with tragic memories. For instance, the Martha-hole in the river named after a girl who was in the family way and who had thrown herself into the water a few years ago. They say that the child’s father had probably helped her commit suicide. Or the barn up on the ridge where another girl had been suffocated for the same reason by another child’s father, a married man. The last incident had happened many years ago, but the vibrations were still there. The sorrow of young girls, exploited by men, who were later punished for becoming too troublesome for the brave, strong men. The village gossip had made these poor girls immortal. The barn and the hole still carried their names. Whereas the men were forgotten, their names vanished, leaving no trace behind them.
Villemo had begun walking again, quickly now, as she raced with the sun. It had coloured the clouds crimson against the clear and frosty turquoise sky. The sun itself had set, leaving cold shadows in the forest valley. Villemo caught sight of the trail. It descended sharply which was painful for her knees as she ran down it. When she was down in the valley, the ground became more even. Where was the lake? It was getting too dark to see, but it had to be to the left. The last crimson of the sky was extinguished. Villemo trembled. But she was sure she was on the right path, and the trail became clearer, turning into a little road, trampled by the domestic animals which belonged to the small farm. Many years had passed since then. Nobody had walked here apart from foxes and moose.
Villemo shivered. She was in a forest once more with age-old trees. They had big, strong branches, well-suited to hang somebody in. Or maybe he had hanged himself? Did she dare to walk through this patch of forest to the Dead Man’s Bog? Oh, come on! Was she not the daughter of the Ice People? Yes, she was. And they saw more than others.
She shook off her worries. Resolute, her eyes fastened to the ground, she walked through the shrub. There! Wasn’t there a footprint on the ground? From a man’s shoes? She had to bend down to be able to discern anything in the dusk. Eldar? He must be here. Unless it was the hanged man who was leading her way. Be quiet, thoughts!
She kept walking and soon found the bog, with cotton grass and soft tufts of moss around it. Villemo looked around. What was that under the trees over there? A boulder? No, it was a stone hut, or it had been, at least. What was left of a small stable could be discerned next to it. It all looked terribly deserted and desolate. The footprint she’d seen could have been a fisherman’s, who had happened to walk by.
All of a sudden, the wilderness pressed in on her heavily. Eldar had never been here. Nobody had lived here since the lonely Barbro had passed away many years ago. Now she stood fearfully alone here, miles away from people, without the chance of getting home in the approaching darkness of night. There were wild animals lurking among the trees – and with the ghost of a hanged man somewhere nearby.
Chapter 6
Villemo had no choice but to spend the night in Barbro’s cabin. The old woman had most likely died there, but that was something that Villemo would have to try and forget. She wasn’t afraid of death, but the surroundings here were not the most pleasant.
She got closer to this small cabin with reluctant steps. Even in the darkness she could see that the house was leaning at an angle. What if it all collapsed when she tried to open the door? Where was the door anyway?
She walked along the house that was three haystacks tall, and saw that there were no window openings. It was bound to be a very cosy place to live in indeed! She shivered violently.
The door was under the gable. She fumbled her way to the door handle and the door swung open slowly, making a whining sound. The smell of soil hit her. Inside it was, of course, completely dark. And she only had one light!
Villemo stood in the door opening, tired and deflated. There wasn’t much left of her usual lively spirit. Suddenly, a coarse hand covered her mouth. Someone was behind her. The hanged corpse rushed to her mind but then a voice snarled in her ear, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Eldar! An unspeakable relief went through her. She fought to get her mouth free so that she could assure him of her loyalty.
He pushed her inside, closing the door after them. She could feel him in the darkness, not just his hand, which tightly held her wrist, but also his aura.
“How did you find your way here?”
“I walked.”
“Don’t be stupid. I mean, who’s been gossiping?”
“Nobody. I eavesdropped on your relatives.”
Eldar swore long and passionately.
“Are you on your own?”
“Yes. Nobody followed me.”
“You know nothing about that! Little idiot! What do you want here?”
Villemo swallowed. “To help you.”
He just moaned.
“I’ve brought some food with me,” she said eagerly. “And I know you’re innocent.”
“Oh, you know, do you? And how can you be so sure about that?”
“You’re not like that.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s more than enough for me.”
“Sit down,” he snarled after a sigh.
Villemo looked around, but she could see nothing in the darkness. Eldar pushed her onto something which was probably a bed fixed to the wall.
“Why the hell am I supposed to put up with you?” he complained.
She said gently, “You are innocent, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am! It’s a conspiracy.”
“And your knife?”
“I left it in the courtyard at Linden Avenue. In the evening it was gone.”
She got a strange feeling that he was hiding something from her.
“What ... were you doing on the hills by Elistrand?”
“That’s none of your business.” He paused then said angrily “Did you talk to someone on your way here?”
“I asked for directions in Moberg.”
“Thanks! Thanks a lot.”
She understood that she had been unforgivably naive and thoughtless.
“I can leave for home early tomorrow morning,” she said quietly.
“Yes, you must! An estate girl who’s out at night! Are you so damn desperate for men that you have to ...”
“No!” she exclaimed, wounded. “That isn’t how it is at all. It seems you don’t understand. I just want to stand by your side.”
“In that case you’re using the worst possible method. What do you think your dad will say when you don’t come home tonight?”
“Oh, that,” she said in a carefree tone of voice. “I managed that fine. I said that I would visit a family in trouble in the neighbouring parish and that I might have to spend the night there.”
He had sat down next to her. His closeness made the atmosphere dense in the small room.
He sighed and moaned impatiently all the time. “What do you want me to do? Now I’ll have to leave this place because they’ll be able to track me down in no time.”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I meant well. I thought that you might need somebody who believed in you.”
“And so you were prepared to sacrifice everything?” he said sarcastically but his voice had turned slightly unsure. “Your cosy life, the respect from your family, your chastity and honour ...”
“No!” she broke in, this time rather angrily. “I know you won’t do me any harm.”
“You bet I won’t! Never in my life would I dare to have anything to do with an upper-class girl. I’m not a fool and I have plenty of girls, anyway. How do you think your spending the night with me will appear to the outside world?”
Once again she got the feeling that there was more to the story than an escape after a killing. And something more than hatred towards her kin because of old feuds.
Villemo struck on what had shocked her the most, “Have you been with many girls?” she whispered under her breath.
Eldar mistakenly assumed that all girls prefer a true womaniser. “Oh, absolutely!” he said hastily.
Villemo jumped up. “Oh, yuck, then you’ll have to manage on your own,” she sobbed. “I want a pure and virtuous man, somebody who’s only mine! Here’s the bundle of food, and as far as I’m concerned you can go to blazes!”
Before he had managed to collect himself over the surprise and free himself from the bundle that was thrown in his face, she had run out of the door and had disappeared into the forest.
He immediately jumped up and rushed over to the door. He wanted to shout her name but changed his mind.
“She can go to hell,” he mumbled to himself.
Nevertheless he remained standing in the door with a sulky, reluctant expression on his face. A night in this forest wasn’t something that he wished on his worst enemy. And Villemo Kalebsdatter ... After all, she wasn’t ...
“Damn,” he murmured between clenched teeth, banging his fist into the door frame.
Villemo stumbled as she sobbed her way past Dead Man’s Bog. She paid attention neither to the forest nor whether she was able to find her way home. She just wanted to get away from the humiliation and the disappointment. So she didn’t watch her step. She didn’t see that she was walking straight into the arms of two men.
“Heavens, who’s that?” the one man said. She didn’t know them. They were certainly not the bailiff’s men. That much she knew.
