The Ice People 1 - Spellbound (The Legend of the Ice People) (17 page)

“Who’s fond of you? You know that but you ask too much of me, Tengel. How am I to put words into what I dreamed?”

“If
you
do, I’ll tell you about
my
dreams.”

She felt that she was warm. She sat on a bench but the way she sat made her feel uncomfortable so she turned a bit to one side. It was a sensual movement and Tengel couldn’t avoid noticing it.

He turned towards the fire again. “You must try to understand why I’m pressing you. I need something to
live
for. I’ve something to live
for
now – for your own good – but nothing to live off during lonely hours. Give it to me, Silje! There have been thousands of lonely hours in my life. I know of nothing else but loneliness.”

She understood what he meant and plucked up courage. “I’ve often dreamed of your mountains,” she said almost in a whisper. “I called them the Land of Shadows. It was inhabited by horrendous demons, who would rise and fly towards our house and frighten me. But now – in this particular dream – there was a new element …”

Tengel looked at her from the side. There was something unnaturally tense about him. “Go on! You mean something sexual?”

“Yes, Tengel, I can’t. You ought not to do this to me.”

“Yes,” he whispered. The stick in his hand shook. A vibrating, excited atmosphere was in the room and in the air. Silje moaned helplessly. “The demons … They were different now. Grown-up men. They wanted me, and I … lay naked in a meadow and … waited for somebody. Somebody in particular.”

Tengel’s face was tense.

“Then came the demon I’d been waiting for. But he stopped at the pointed mountains. But even so I could see that it was you. And … my body was tuned on … by a penetrating feeling of warmth. And then I woke up. This was the first dream.”

She put her hands to her face. Tengel removed them gently.

“And then the other dream!”

“No, you won’t make me tell it.”

“Was it … consummated?”

“No, it stopped precisely just like the first one, in the decisive moment. But I was so shameless in the dream, Tengel. I wanted to see your body, feel against my skin … And both times when I woke up … No, I can’t tell you that.”

“Did you wake up with pleasurable sensations,” he asked without looking at her.

Silje’s silence was an answer in itself.

“This isn’t anything to feel ashamed about,” he said. “This how most probably feel, I think. I think – that in spite of your strict upbringing – you have very strong …” He was searching for the words. “Sexual instincts,” he added in a hoarse voice. “I’ve known this ever since I saw you for the very first time. This is something one can see in the eyes …”

“But this is how I feel but only with … you.” She blurted it out before she’d even have time to think.

Silje was in no doubt that she’d made him happy. She could easily tell by the smile he tried to hide.

“And now it’s your turn,” she said shyly. “You promised that you’d speak about your dreams.”

The room felt terribly warm, but she knew the warmth didn’t come from the fireplace.

“It won’t be easy,” he said.

“That’s also what I said but I didn’t get away with it anyway.”

“It won’t be easy, Silje, because my dreams have been when I was awake. I don’t dream when I sleep.”

She felt a strange sensation in her body. She moved a bit on the bench.

“Yes, I’ve been with you, Silje. Every evening, already in Benedikt’s house. You see, I knew what your room looked like. I would return to when I put my hands on your foot, and in my thoughts I let them glide up and under your dress. Me who’s never before allowed myself to think of a woman. I’ve undressed you and seen you lie there and …”

Silje felt ashamed inside at the emotions he aroused in her.

“And my hands keep on holding you around the waist when I’ve helped you off and on the horse. It’s as if I can feel you afterwards. In my thoughts, I let my hands glide inside your dress and placed them on your breasts. I’ve felt your soft, warm skin …”

Silje moaned softly, and he went on quickly:

“Only I’ve never dared come right to you, not even in my thoughts. Somehow it was too holy, too unachievable. I know that this will never happen in actual fact. Never am I to breed a child to the misery that I myself have endured. But I thank you most sincerely because you had the courage to tell me about your dreams. You’ve given me renewed strength.”

“But has it made things easier for you?”

“No,” he said quietly.

“Nor for me.”

He put his hand over hers. “Silje,” was all he said. But in that one word she could hear all that he felt for her, everything that didn’t have anything to do with her body.

She was filled with a deep and heartfelt feeling of warmth.

“We’ll never talk about this anymore, Tengel. Do you agree on that?”

“Yes.”

They sat there by the fire in deep thoughts. Both sensed the strong feeling of belonging, and they shared the same despair.

Finally, they awoke from this atmosphere by hearing Sol babbling outside. Tengel got up quickly and pulled Silje to her feet. A tender, sad smile lit his face for a brief moment.

Then they went towards the door and to the others.

Chapter 12

The next morning, Eldrid fetched both children so that Silje could be relieved a couple of days. Dag had actually slept a bit during the night and Silje felt that he wasn’t quite as red and sore any more. But perhaps this was just something she was imagining. The day before, Tengel had asked that “the terrible straight-jacket” be loosened a bit, which Eldrid was vehemently against. A child that wasn’t wrapped tightly would be deformed. This was common knowledge. You had to make certain that their legs were straight – was he absolutely out of his mind?

Silje decided to loosen the blanket when Dag was back home. This was something she already did in Benedikt’s house and her confidence in Tengel was immense.

As soon as Eldrid had left with the children, Silje was busy. With anxiously trembling hands, she filled a bucket with food, put on the beautiful silk shawl, which Tengel had given her, and slipped out of the door. In order for nobody to discover her, she crept out of the farm along overgrown trails, walking through the birch forest to the other end of the valley.

There was snow in the air. The sky was heavy and grey-white and the mountain tops had disappeared, and the little that could be seen was covered in snow. It was cooler today than the previous days. Cold gusts of wind went through the forest and what little foliage was left rustled.

Silje had to cross the road somewhere – and of course she would come across people! A woman walked along the road but to Silje’s great surprise the woman ran in the forest and hid herself. This reminded Silje that she’d seen something similar in the valley on a previous occasion. People led such secluded and isolated lives that they were much afraid of strangers. The woman was simply scared of Silje. – Perhaps she felt that she was dangerous?

Silje shrugged her shoulders in somewhat despair and walked on.

When she caught sight of the old, low house at the bottom of the valley, her heart began to beat faster and her hands shook.

Did she really dare?

There was no sign of life at the house. Far away in the valley could be heard the sound of strokes of an axe. Perhaps it was Tengel? She sought comfort from this thought. In the small yard which she was standing in front of, there were no footprints in the snow although it had been there for weeks.

How long is it really since the neighbours have been here, she thought anxiously. Nobody goes over there.
They manage themselves.

They could have been dead for a long time.

Silje remembered the eerie sensation she’d felt when she walked past the first day. It was as if somebody observed her from here.

With a sense of great insecurity, Silje walked up to the house. Even her legs moved uneasily because she was just so scared.

The door was low, divided in the middle. It was lop-sided and lay deep in the snow.

Her fingers trembled so badly that she didn’t manage to knock the door properly. She tried one more time. Her heart was in her mouth as with a frightfully scared bird.

So she waited.

Not a sound.

She heard nothing at all and so she was startled when the one half door was opened.

In the darkness she caught a glimpse of a pair of catlike old eyes.

Silje curtseyed to the suspicious, knotty face that had certain similarities with Tengel’s.

Before she’d caught her breath again, she heard a clear, ironic voice from inside.

“It’s Tengel’s woman. Let her come in, Grimar.”

The lower part of the door was opened. Silje straddled over a high doorstep and onto an earthen floor. A stench of old dirt hit her but most of all there was a smell of closed-in smoke.

It was incredibly dark inside. The membrane over the louver was black with soot and there were no other light sources. The embers still glowed from an old-fashioned hollow in the floor but they didn’t generate all that much light.

It took a while before Silje could see anything in the black, soot-filled room. But at long last she could detect a figure sitting in a short bed over in the corner.

She dropped a deep curtsey but it felt so unnatural to say “Peace be with you” in this house so she said instead:

“Hello, Mrs. Hanna! I’m Silje. Since you’re one of Tengel’s closest relatives, I took the liberty of calling upon you. I brought along some good food if you feel like it?”

Could they hear how her voice was trembling?

The old woman grunted something. Silje wasn’t able to discern her facial features because it was too dark for that. But she felt that she was looking at something immemorial, and that she herself was being scrutinized. Grimar had also entered the room. She stood right behind her and she could feel his breath on her neck.

For a moment, she felt fiercely anxious and wanted to flee. The silence in the room; the ghastly, stale smell mixed with smoke – but most of all something unpleasant by the atmosphere; something unknown and magical which she didn’t know how to put into words – made her scared stiff.

Then she pulled herself together and straightened her back. “Can I put this somewhere? I need to bring the bucket back with me because it belongs to the house that I live in.”

When Grimar took her arm, she very nearly let out a loud scream but he just wanted to show her to table.

She took out the food – bread; some ham; Christmas sausages; butter and cheese – most of it something that she’d brought with her from Benedikt’s house. The old woman had straightened her back and stretched out her neck. Silje had discovered that she was the one who decided so she turned towards her.

“If there’s anything I can do for you, then, just let me know. Help in the house or something like that. I can ask Tengel to see to firewood.”

“Tengel!” the old woman fumed mockingly. “Tengel’s a fool! He’s the power and won’t use it. All he wants to do is destroy it. I don’t want Tengel here. Besides, what were you to do in this house? That kind of work isn’t your strong point.”

Silje began to be afraid of the old woman’s anger. “Tengel has been very kind towards me,” she said in a low tone of voice. She felt she had to defend him although this might irritate the old woman.

“But he won’t breed children with you,” Hanna spewed out. “He’s the only one who can pass on the power, and he wants to extinguish it.”

“How do you know all this?” Silje thought, confused. All she does is lie here without – seeing other people.

“He’s not the only one,” Silje objected. “Sol …”

“Sol’s a dead end. It’s
you
, my girl, who’s to continue the
great
Tengel’s legacy. You’re the only one who can change his descendants’ crazy ideas. You, only you!”

Silje bent her head. “You know that I’ll do that, Mrs. Hanna. You know my wishes, don’t you?”

“Yes,” the old woman smiled sternly. “I know your feelings. I know the flame that’s burning within you. And you’re Tengel’s woman because it’s more than yearning for closeness that binds you together. I’ll give you a brew. I can make him …”

“No,” answered Silje emphatically. “I don’t want the kind of love that comes from witchcraft. If I can’t have him without, I’m not strong enough to win him.”

“You’re certainly the bravest little vermin I’ve ever come across,” said Hanna with a smile. “And you’re also proud. Watch your pride, Silje. It’s a dangerous vice!

Then she began to laugh. It wasn’t a common kind of laugh. “You dare to refuse my assistance, eh? But I suppose this is because you’re a newcomer in the valley and don’t know our power. Do you realize that I can destroy you without as much as touching you?”

“So I’ve been told. But I was worried in case you needed help.”

Hanna leaned back in bed. “You
are
Tengel’s woman,” she said delighted. “Do what you have to and things will turn out as you want them to. He’ll come around eventually. Incidentally, have you seen it?”

“Seen what?” asked Silje unsuspecting.

The old woman in the bed laughed. “I saw him when he was newborn. And I thought to myself: “If the women only knew they’d all be standing in line when he’s a grown-up man. But it’s not anything for a virgin.”

At last, it dawned on Silje what she was talking about. She could feel how her body turned warm from disgust. Something so horrible and common!

“Yes, indeed,” cackled the old woman. “Yes, indeed.”

Silje had to make an effort at controlling her temper. She needed to change the topic of conversation. “Can you … predict what my future will be like?”

The silence in the room was oppressive.

“I suppose I could. But with regard to Tengel, then I can’t see whether you have a future together with him. This is because he’s got the same power as me, and he blocks my vision. But you’ll certainly be blessed with a child. But with whom … I can’t tell you because of him, my defiant, indifferent relative. Go home and teach him a lesson, Silje! Captivate him with your youth and warmth so that he doesn’t realize that you’ve captured him until it’s too late.”

Silje’s cheeks blushed. She curtseyed, took the empty bucket and was followed out of the house by the silent Grimar.

When she’d reached the forest and was certain that nobody could see her, she put her hands to her face. Her body shook from fear and shame, and her teeth were chattering.

Suddenly Silje realized: Provided she had a chance of extending the family, she’d nothing to fear from the evil Hanna.

***

Silje didn’t tell anybody about her visit to the old couple. She was afraid of doing so.

The worst winter months came and went. The wind howled around the house corners and outside the snow had settled far above the door so that often it was impossible to come out in the morning. Silje became stronger and could take care of the children again and housework became easier as time went by. Dag was well and Sol babbled happily – so long as she got her way.

But of course they got on each other’s nerves. Always having to be indoors, never being able to go out because of the icy cold was a strain on everybody. At times, the parlour looked like a battlefield but now and then Silje would make an effort and she managed to get everything under control. When she’d spun the yarn, the loom was readied and the hours with it gave her the energy to go ahead with the boring housework. When the neighbours heard how beautiful she weaved, they gradually began to pay her visits to see. Silje was happy about this but it also made her worry because she just never knew what she was to offer them. Her cakes were always burned in the edges; the cheeses were never solid enough or too solid. Nothing turned out as she wanted it to be.

The neighbouring wives would give her good advice on the technicalities of weaving and in return Silje would teach them new patterns.

What surprised Silje by far the most was how dull their conversations were. Their language was very simple, and they had a very limited vocabulary. The same applied to their topics of conversation. All they could talk about was the ups and downs of their neighbours – in particular, mostly about the latter – and how the farms were managed. That was all! Basta! If Silje tried to discuss other issues, there was absolute silence. They knew nothing at all about life outside of the valley, and they didn’t seem to want to either. It seemed that this valley was the hub of the world to them.

She saw Tengel extremely seldom. He came when he had to, helped with the toughest jobs outside and saw to it that she had everything she needed. Both knew that nothing had changed. Their meetings seemed to become increasingly intense – and that they would end in an explosion. Silje also feared for that moment and so she kept Tengel at a distance as much as was possible.

Tengel, for his part, had a conversation with the chief. They were both out on the ice in an attempt at catching some fish to add to their reserves. Each had hacked a hole and all the time they had to be careful that it didn’t freeze up again. The wind bit their ears but occasionally there would be a milder gust of wind portending warmer weather.

The chief was one of the few people who didn’t avoid Tengel completely.

“What are you going to do with Silje?” he suddenly asked.

Tengel became confused. “What d’you mean?”

“She creates difficulties among the men. They lie in wait at her house and they fight about her.”

“I didn’t know that,” answered Tengel with a frown.

“They daren’t show up. But one fine day things will go wrong. You ought to give her in marriage, and pretty soon as well. A young girl who lives completely on her own … it’s too tempting for the young men.”

Tengel got an unpleasant feeling in his stomach. “I don’t know … I can’t just get her married off without her consent.”

“Of course you can! This is the common thing to do. Surely the girls aren’t to decide for themselves? But you must have a word with her. She may have her thoughts at some place or other with one of the young men. She’s a gorgeous woman and intelligent as well. I actually think that Heming is interested. I wouldn’t say no to a daughter-in-law like her.”

“You must remember to add the two children.”

“Either you or Eldrid must take care of the girl. After all, you’re related by blood. The little boy may be useful. A man’s job means a lot on a farm. Have a word with her about it and hear whether she’s interested. And remember: Heming’s a good match.”

Tengel had completely lost all interest in fishing. He packed up and went home shortly afterwards.

Only he couldn’t bring himself to talk with Silje about it. Maybe that was wrong of him because the next day things began to happen precisely as the chief had feared.

Tengel came home from the mountains after an unsuccessful grouse shooting. He knew that Heming had also been grouse shooting and when he reached the deep river close to Silje’s house, he caught sight of him. He stood at the bank of the river, looking down at something.

Tengel got close, albeit slightly hesitantly.

Heming caught sight of him and waved him over to him.

The chief’s son smiled shrewdly.

“Look over there!” he said.

Tengel glanced down towards the river.

Silje had obviously been busy rinsing clothes in the ice-cold water but now a frightening scene was played out on the other side of the river. The laundry lay on the rocks behind which one of the Bratteng boys was sneaking up on Silje. It was the most dangerous of the boys and it wasn’t difficult to figure out what his intention was.