Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 10 - Winter Storm

But she couldn’t deny that Eldar had also turned into an extremely handsome man. He had triggered a feeling of recklessness in her, the trait which her sweet parents had tried to curb incessantly. They knew that it was always a warning sign of some dirty trick on her part.

But Villemo had decided that now she would behave. She decided to be friendly towards Eldar no matter how belligerent he’d been before.

Eldar stopped by the edge of the forest. The low houses of the Black Forest lay before them. With a firm grip on a branch to keep upright, he said:

“Now you can go to hell. I can manage on my own.”

Villemo immediately forgot her noble intentions of being friendly.

“As you wish,” she said in a slightly spiteful tone of voice because she could see that he wouldn’t be able to walk far. “Here’s the basket of food for your family.”

“We don’t want any of your rotten food,” he said sharply.

“Maybe we should have turned our backs so that you could steal the basket,” she replied. “Maybe that would make you feel better?”

“You damn bitch,” he said slowly with clenched teeth. “It’ll be a poor devil who marries you!”

“Don’t worry, because I have no intention of marrying you.”

“Heaven forbid! That ...” He paled visibly. The hand that held the branch shook from exertion and Niklas stopped him from falling. For a while, Eldar was lost to the cruelty of this world. “He’s lost too much blood,” said Niklas. “And he’s probably not eaten enough.”

“What are we to do?” asked Irmelin.

“Let him alone! Now we have a chance to help the others.”

“Do we dare walk in?”

“I think we should. From what Eldar said, it sounds like they’re utterly exhausted. Come on, let’s go!”

“What a shame that we didn’t bring along more food,” said Irmelin. “That never occurred to me.”

“We can bring along some corn tomorrow,” said Niklas. “So that they can at least bake some bread.”

They approached the houses hesitantly. None of them were looking forward to it. Villemo had some crazy idea that they would come across terribly deformed creatures and blithering idiots inside. It was absolutely unjustified to think like that – she knew that – but the village gossip had tinged her thoughts.

The door to the first house was unlocked and they entered a dark room. Nobody was on their feet in there. Only rats scurried about. They knew that there was great poverty in the village, but this was the worst they’d ever seen.

They stayed there for an hour. They made porridge of barley flour on the fireplace. They gave the children milk and tried to make the grown-ups eat a couple of bites of bread. Exhausted, despondent, resigned glances met them. Nobody asked them to get lost. They could hardly move their lips.

Gudrun was there, but the only sign of hostility she managed was to turn her face towards the wall. Villemo simply turned her round again, forcing her to swallow the porridge. Once Gudrun had gotten a taste for the food, she gave up her resistance.

They put clean linen on the beds where necessary. Niklas saw a little boy with huge, puzzled eyes who was covered in sores all over his body. He deviated from his principles and caressed the poor mite with warm, cautious hands.

Villemo nodded calmly as she watched Niklas. Then she turned and saw that Eldar was in the doorway, clinging to the door frame. He must have been standing there for a while because she recalled that she had heard the door creak without having thought anything of it.

He looked at Irmelin, who gently and lovingly helped the family members settle down. It didn’t seem to surprise him in the least to see Irmelin acting like that, but he was surprised to see Villemo doing the same. Her compassion for the sick wasn’t nearly as tender and compassionate. That wasn’t her nature. But then, you didn’t have to be a genius to understand that behind her short words and rough treatment, there was compassion and empathy for the suffering of other people.

Eldar wasn’t able to lend a helping hand since all his strength had been spent. All he could do was watch, whether disapprovingly or not, they weren’t able to tell. Probably a mixture of both. Then he saw how Villemo staggered and sat down at the edge of a bed, shaking all over.

“What’s the matter with you?” he said bluntly. “Can’t you stand seeing poverty?”

Niklas lifted his head. “Villemo hardly eats anything in order to share Elistrand’s supply with others. She gives away to others what she needs herself.”

“Well, I never!” said Eldar, cutting a grimace, yet still he gazed at her with surprise and wonder.

When they were finished, Irmelin told Eldar sternly: “I’ll send a farmhand up here tomorrow with rye and barley flour. Please accept it – for the sake of your family.”

Eldar kept gazing at her, then he nodded grumpily.

They left. Not a word of thanks had been said to them. But then again, that wasn’t the reason why they had come.

Villemo took leave of her two friends down by the road. She was suddenly very eager to be on her way home. Actually, to begin eating again. On her way home, she passed the church. She slowed, then turned round and went into the churchyard. Lost in her own thoughts, she walked past the stone which showed that this was where Tengel and Silje were buried. Villemo had never known them. Instead she stopped by another stone. Great-grandmother Liv ...

All of them had found it inconceivable that she was no longer in their midst. She had turned eighty-five – an incredible age. Villemo recalled her conversation with great-grandma Liv at her sickbed on one of her very last days. Villemo was twelve years old at the time, but she would never forget the words.

“Villemo,” said Liv. “You know that there are now three of you with the yellow eyes of the Ice People. I’m not afraid of evil because none of you have been given that. But I do know that you’re the one who will have the toughest fate.”

“But why, great-grandma?”

“Because you have the same burning soul as my poor cousin and foster sister, Sol. She was much worse hit than you but you’re still frighteningly similar in personality and disposition. Always think at least five times before you do anything, Villemo. It’s far too easy to act rashly when you’re so intense about everything you do. If you’re able to keep a certain balance, you can have a richer life than most people.”

Villemo had nodded and given her great-grandmother a long, warm hug. When she had left the sickroom, she had heard a sad whisper:

“My poor little girl. May the Lord have mercy upon you!”

Her great-grandmother had been right. But Villemo had discovered how difficult it was to keep her equilibrium, especially since she had such an irrepressible desire to embark on every adventure that she could think of.

Niklas and Dominic wouldn’t have such problems themselves. Niklas had been given a gift with his healing hands. A useful gift for society. Dominic was able to sense what moved in people’s souls. What if she had been given an exciting gift? Then she would have had a lot of fun in life! Instead, she had been given an indomitable yearning and was constantly torn between her will, which tugged at her soul, and acting on it. Villemo sighed and moved on to the next grave.

TARALD MEIDEN, 1601-1660. WIFE YRJA MATTIASDATTER 1601-1669.

Yrja, Irmelin’s grandmother, had also passed away. She left a space at Graastensholm that was painfully empty.

The Lind branch of the Ice People had also been given a new grave recently. Matilda, Brand’s wife, was unable to reach a ripe old age because she was far too heavy for that. Andreas’ little wife, Eli, Niklas’s mother, was now in charge of Linden Avenue.