Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 09 - Without Roots

Without Roots

The Legend of The Ice People 9 - Without Roots

© Margit Sandemo 1982

© eBook in English: Jentas A/S, 2017

Series: The Legend of The Ice People

Title: Without Roots

Title number: 9

Original title: Den ensamme

Translator: Anna Halager

© Translation: Jentas A/S

ISBN: 978-87-7107-357-7

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchase.

All contracts and agreements regarding the work, translation, editing, and layout are owned by Jentas A/S.

Acknowledgement

The legend of the Ice People is dedicated with love and gratitude to the memory of my dear late husband Asbjorn Sandemo, who made my life a fairy tale.

Margit Sandemo

The Ice People - Reviews

‘Margit Sandemo is, simply, quite wonderful.’

- The Guardian

‘Full of convincing characters, well estabished in time and place, and enlightening ... will get your eyes popping, and quite possibly groins twitching ... these are graphic novels without pictures ... I want to know what happens next.’

- The Times

‘A mixure of myth and legend interwoven with historical events, this is imaginative creation that involves the reader from the first page to the last.’

- Historical Novels Review

‘Loved by the masses, the prolific Margit Sandemo has written over 172 novels to date and is Scandinavia's most widely read author...’

- Scanorama magazine

The Legend of the Ice People

The legend of the Ice People begins many centuries ago with Tengel the Evil. He was ruthless and greedy, and there was only one way to get everything that he wanted: he had to make a pact with the devil. He travelled far into the wilderness and summoned the devil with a magic potion that he had brewed in a pot. Tengel the Evil gained unlimited wealth and power but in exchange, he cursed his own family. One of his descendants in every generation would serve the Devil with evil deeds. When it was done, Tengel buried the pot. If anyone found it, the curse would be broken.

So the curse was passed down through Tengel’s descendants, the Ice People. One person in every generation was born with yellow cat’s eyes, a sign of the curse, and magical powers which they used to serve the Devil. One day the most powerful of all the cursed Ice People would be born.

This is what the legend says. Nobody knows whether it is true, but in the 16th century, a cursed child of the Ice People was born. He tried to turn evil into good, which is why they called him Tengel the Good. This legend is about his family. Actually, it is mostly about the women in his family – the women who held the fate of the Ice People in their hands.

Chapter 1

The fate of the Ice People was spun from many threads. One thread began in the south of France, in Béarn by the foot of the Pyrenees, far from Graastensholm Parish.

The bells rang out in the empty church and far beyond. A carriage turned out of the church square and drove up to the castle that rose above the town, which was bathed in golden sunlight. Inside the carriage, a mother and her fifteen-year old daughter sat next to each other. People they saw along the road greeted them humbly.

“Anette,” said the mother without turning her head. “Don’t look at the mob! Remember how things turned out the last time you waved to them.”

“Yes, Mum.”

Although it had happened several days ago, Anette could still feel her cheek stinging after her mother had boxed her ears.

“Remember that they are our subjects,” continued her mother, almost without moving her lips. “People are only here because of us. Don’t ever forget that. I noticed that you smiled... At a boy! Haven’t I taught you-”

“Yes, Mum.”

If Anette had hoped to ward off a lecture, she was disappointed. Her mother rattled on in an expressionless voice:

“You’re nearly grown-up and of course you’ll be married off. Anything else would be unsuitable. And you know what we women must suffer in marriage. I’ve told you what I had to endure while my poor husband was alive. We women must endure men’s carnal pleasures for as long as we want them to give us children. But after that you have no further duties to him on that score. Remember that! You can always escape by saying you have a headache or, better yet, a migraine. You can also pray to the Virgin Mary that your husband loses his carnal desires once he’s provided you with the children you want.”

“But Mum!” exclaimed Anette, shocked.

“Just you wait. You’ll wish for the same as me, because men are either pigs or lechers. If they don’t get what they want at home, they visit prostitutes, which you’ll have to conceal, and that’s exhausting.”

“But Dad wasn’t like that, he was so nice.”

Her mother sneered. “You know so very little about men’s nature! They can think of the ugliest things. See to it that you’re never alone with a young man until you’re married, Anette! Don’t let them lead you astray with beautiful words - men know perfectly well how to charm and lure a woman. Pray to the Virgin Mary for the power to resist, or you’ll soon feel their lecherous hands on your body. And remember that God sees everything you do! You mustn’t give in to unsuitable and shameful emotions. Never! You must work to please God. Only prostitutes and fallen women allow themselves to be flattered and intoxicated by men. And you don’t want to be one of those, do you?”

Anette bowed her head. “No, Mum. I’ll bear it all in mind.”

She hoped that the lecture was over for now. It always gave her the shivers and a vague discomfort in the body, making her almost feel sick.

Fortunately, the lecture was over for now. Her mother had caught sight of a little old woman sitting by the palace gate with her basket of vegetables. Her mother ordered the driver to bring the horse to a halt. She leaned out of the carriage window and grabbed the whip from its holder on the side of the carriage. With a hard lash, she drove the woman away from the gate.

She then leaned back with a satisfied smile on her face. “When you go on your six-month journey with your relative, Jacob de la Gardie, to his new homeland, please bear in mind what I’ve just told you. Jacob is a Rigsmarsk so you’ll be moving in the finest circles – otherwise I would never have let you travel to that pagan country. But Jacob will see to it that nothing improper happens to you and besides I’ve brought you up properly. I’m sure you’ll avoid all dangers.”

“Yes, Mum,” said Anette. “From what I’ve heard of men, I can promise you that nobody will get close to me!”

“Good,” said her mother, relieved. “I want you out of the way for a while, you see, because fortune hunters have discovered that Castle Loupiac has an heir who is now of age. We don’t want to have anything to do with fortune hunters, do we, Anette?”

“No, Mum.”

But human beings are not masters of the whims of fortune. Anette had not been away from home for more than two months when a message came to tell her that her mother had passed away. So the girl stayed with her family in pagan Sweden. She was still far too young to manage on her own.

But her strong-willed mother’s words had sunk into Anette’s mind. She had been taught how a real lady was to behave.

At Linden Avenue, the years passed by more and more quickly for Are Lind of the Ice People. A little too quickly in his opinion, because there was something he still had not managed to accomplish.