Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 33 - Demon of the Night

Tamlin flew northwards as swiftly as thought. If anybody had seen him, they would have believed he was a whirlwind. This was why Lilith had chosen a storm demon when she took a lover in order to breed Tamlin, in conformity with the wishes of the ruler.

It didn’t take him long to reach the Valley of the Ice People where the replica of Tengel the Evil waited. Many summer pastures had come into existence in the surrounding mountains, but people avoided the old valley, though it was now easy to reach because the glacier had melted. Nobody had built there in the three centuries since the Ice People’s houses had been torched. Everything was deserted and quiet, yet disturbingly beautiful.

Tamlin sensed where he should land. But he hesitated. He felt ill at ease, hating having somebody in authority over him.

The harsh order struck like a slap from a giant hand. “Come down now, you miserable creep!” Tamlin could do nothing but obey the voice.

There it stood – the shadow, or replica, or whatever you might call it. Out on a projecting cliff, just as it had stood on the night of its bitter struggle with Heike and Tula, in which Tengel the Evil had triumphed in the long run because Heike later died from his wounds. But on that occasion, Tengel’s humiliation had been complete. Four unknown demons had come to Tula’s assistance, plunging Tengel over the cliff. Later, Tula vanished forever with the very same demons.

Tamlin knew nothing about those events.

This was the place where Tengel the Evil had previously fought. It was where his vassal Kolgrim had struck down Tarjei, his worst enemy. Tarjei, the chosen, who had been destined to crush Tengel. But Tarjei was never allowed to show what he was capable of. He remained an exceptionally gifted but unfulfilled member of the clan. Thanks to Kolgrim, Tengel had put an effective stop to his progress.

Tengel had also appeared here before Ulvhedin, almost frightening the life out of the monstrous giant who had had the audacity to turn his back on his ancestor. Ulvhedin, who would otherwise have been a useful tool to continue working with! Sol, too, had once met Tengel the Evil not far from here. But young Sol hadn’t shown the least bit of the submissive fear that Tengel deserved. What a shame that he hadn’t succeeded in getting her on his side. She would have been perfect in the evil one’s service.

Tengel had decided that this was where he was to meet his new slave. This was where his spiritual image was the strongest, this was its accustomed place, and he didn’t have to make an effort to meet his cursed descendants, who should have given him so much joy, but who had thwarted his plans for them.

Now the night demon that he had in his power was able to fly. It wasn’t yet fully grown, not fully developed, but at least the small creature had wings, which was the most important thing. So Tengel the Evil didn’t have the bother of projecting his thoughts all the way to Linden Avenue.

Lilith had done a good job. Her offspring’s characteristics showed that he was the son of the most beautiful of the night demons. Of course, from a human perspective, this slave was frightening, but as a demon he was one of the more attractive ones – or certainly seemed destined to become so.

“Miserable creep,” snarled Tengel the Evil’s spiritual image, so that dusty green clouds billowed out of the mouth of the horrible, obnoxious old creature. “What can you tell me?”

Tamlin, who was proud by nature, hated having to crawl to this being. To be treated as a subordinate, as a slave, was disgusting, but Tengel the Evil had such power over him that all Tamlin could do was to bow and scrape with his head bent and a humble attitude.

“Oh, lord and master, there’s nothing dangerous to report.”

“Really? Is that so?” Tengel said sharply, so that the decaying fumes enveloped the demon. “I want a full report about every single member. The oldest?”

“The one in Sweden is dead.”

“Splendid,” said Tengel with a twitch at the corner of his mouth. This was probably the closest he could get to a smile. “And the others?”

“Those that call themselves Viljar and Belinda are frail. Belinda is of no account and her husband has lost his strength. They won’t live for long. They haven’t spoken any dangerous words and their thoughts and interests are focused on earthly things such as eating food and managing all the stupid functions of the human body.”

“But there is one person in the house who is strong,” said Tengel, so sharply that Tamlin took another step backwards. “Benedikte. What about her?”

He was fretting that she had escaped his plans at the time of the ferry crossing.

“Benedikte?” said Tamlin thoughtfully. “She’s not dangerous. She can’t even see me!”

Tengel the Evil interrupted him impatiently. “No human being is able to, you fool!”

Tamlin realized that he would have to choose his words more cautiously. “I’ve monitored Benedikte extra carefully, just as you requested, oh Master. I don’t see anything extraordinary in her behaviour. Her thoughts are focused on her son, André, and nothing else. Since she became a mother, she’s completely forgotten what it means to be stricken.”

“Continue to keep your eyes and ears open! The son ... does he show any signs of being stricken or ... chosen?”

The last word was followed by a grimace, because Tengel the Evil hated the chosen ones – the scum that Tengel the Good had invented.

“André?” said Tamlin. “No, definitely not. He’s just a tedious average human child.”

Tengel the Evil seemed satisfied. “Go on!”

“Henning is steady, trustworthy and slow. He has no plans to journey to the Valley. His wife is a damned priest’s daughter: she doesn’t even know where the Valley is, and has no intention of moving her big bum out of the house if she doesn’t have to. The ones in Volden’s house aren’t dangerous. Christoffer struts about thinking a lot about the Valley of the Ice People, but he doesn’t have any actual plans to come here. In fact, they’re just a bunch of slow, inane and sluggish people. The task I’ve been given is pretty boring!”

“Malin is of the Ice People,” Tengel the Evil pointed out encouragingly.

Tamlin shook his head. “She’s quite bright, but she has plenty to take care of in her own world. She hasn’t looked in the Ice People’s books or meddled with their things since I arrived in the house. None of them has.”

“There’s one you’ve forgotten!”

“Have I?” Tamlin asked as matter-of-factly as he possibly could. “Yes, you’re right: Vanja. She’s as empty as a shell, she’s of no interest. She only thinks of looking smart and admiring her own reflection.”

Tamlin hoped that the séance was over, but he was wrong. Tengel’s apparition lingered, pondering something.

Then it spoke. “There’s somebody else.”

“What?” said Tamlin. “Somebody else? No, I’ve mentioned them all.”

“There’s one more,” Tengel said slowly and savagely. “Find that person for me!”

“I don’t understand. I’ve never heard of anybody else. “

“There’s somebody who keeps himself hidden from me.”

“Nobody can hide himself from you, Master,” Tamlin fawned.

Tengel wasn’t listening. “There’s somebody who hindered me at Fergeoset. Who did away with the ferryman I had placed there and who ruined the sacred image that was to be my slave. And who also killed Ulvar, my previous helper. But I’ve never succeeded in seeing this being. What powers does it possess that can withstand me? How can anyone hide himself from me?”

Tamlin waited. He had no idea who Tengel the Evil was talking about.

Suddenly, Tengel the Evil’s terrible glance was directed at Tamlin. “On your way home from here, you are to visit your tribe where the demons of the night reside. You must talk to each and every one of them and order them to search for that person who is hidden from me. They are to search all over the world. When they find the presumptuous being, they are to destroy him. That’s my order. If they’re unable to do it, I’ll see to the matter myself. Then I’ll punish you all severely! Leave now! And keep your eyes and ears open in the homes of the Ice People!”