Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 17 - The Garden of Death

But then, Shira was half Swedish ... That was worth taking into account. However, if one was being precise, her father was not entirely Swedish either. Vendel had both Norwegian and Danish blood in his veins, English from Jessica Cross and German from Alexander Paladin. And most importantly, he was of the Ice People! Just as much as Sinsiew had been. How exciting it would be to meet Shira! What was it her maternal grandmother, the shaman woman from Taran-gai, had said to Vendel?

“Your child will have the best of both branches of the Ice People: our art of magic and your art of healing go well together.”

If only it were that simple! Daniel had his doubts.

Even before the boat had moored, the two Samoyeds began chatting away with the men and women who were standing on the bank. Daniel caught the name “Vendel” several times.

The children – small, sweet, snotty-nosed urchins – looked at him with their black eyes. The grown-ups gave eager and surprised exclamations, running out into the water to pull the boat up on land.

Daniel glanced quickly over the crowd. Could one of them be Shira? A couple of young girls were standing over there. They had broad faces and were short, very curious to see what sort of person he was. With a shiver down his spine, Daniel recalled Vendel’s story about the five small, erotic creatures. He had no intention of repeating Vendel’s accomplishments in that regard. Daniel was a far more serious young man. No, he did not think that Shira was there, but you never knew.

He was virtually dragged on to land by eager Samoyeds. They all spoke at once, so it was impossible to catch a single word. The crowd that followed the three men up from the water was big and dense. Some of the children had run on in advance and spread the news. Women and the elderly looked out from their tents. The men were dragged in one particular direction. Towards a particular tent.

The crowd of children had fetched a man out of the tent. He stood there gazing at the group that was drawing nearer. He was elderly and grey-haired, with a straight back and wise eyes so narrow that you could hardly see them.

Daniel came to a halt in front of him. For a moment, everything was totally quiet. Then Daniel plucked up courage and guessed.

“Irovar?” The old man nodded. Daniel smiled at him. “I’m Daniel, Vendel Grip’s relative,” he said, clumsily, in the Samoyeds’ language. “I bring greetings from him.” Irovar’s face lit up in a smile as he stretched out his hands.

“Do come in,” he said. Then he drove all the curious people away. They went off to take care of Daniel’s two companions.

The tent was neat and clean and showed that a woman had put her mark on it. They sat down and the old man asked: “So Vendel is alive?”

“Yes, he’s back in his own country. But his journey home took six years, and he lost both his feet on the way.”

Irovar looked down at the ground for a while. Then he said: “My son and daughter treated him very badly. He was a fine man. Far too good for Sinsiew.”

“All the while, Vendel’s thoughts were focused on the child that Sinsiew was expecting,” Daniel began cautiously. “He thought a lot about it and was very worried. He hasn’t found peace in all these years, which is why I’ve come now. But I haven’t come directly from home. I managed to flee from one of the numerous wars, that are ravaging the world outside your quiet region. For this reason Vendel knows nothing about my journey, otherwise he would have sent gifts to the girl. Gifts and lots of money.”

“I can well imagine,” Irovar replied. “But Shira is fine, and I’m sure she’ll be happy to say hello to you. She has thought a lot about her father.”

“I hear that she’s an orphan?”

“She’s living with me. But right now she’s out collecting wood with a few others; she should be back soon.”

“Maybe I could go out and look for her?”

“Yes, by all means do! But please come back here. Do my house the honour of living here during your stay, which I hope will be long.”

“Thank you. I’ll have to wait here until the seal-catcher returns home because I also have another task, but we can talk about that later. What does Shira look like?”

“You’ll know her immediately.”

As he walked out of the tent, Daniel thought that she was bound to be blonde. A slight difference in the quality of the daylight told him that it was now evening. A big fire was burning in the middle of the camp and he walked in its direction.

Many more people were out now. They had probably come home with wood. At one point he started, certain that he had found Shira. She was a tall girl with long, black plaits and eyes as dark as forest lakes, and she met his glance with eager curiosity. But just as Daniel was about to speak to her, somebody shouted a strange name and she responded immediately. She was obviously not Shira.

Several young people were standing by the fire. Shouting and laughing, they were trying to see who had the courage to get closest to the fire. Daniel gave them a smile and they willingly made room for him, regarding him with unveiled interest, giggling a bit among themselves. But Daniel was not annoyed. From what Vendel had told him, he knew their giggles were never spiteful.

He was staring into the fire when suddenly somebody seemed to be watching him. Then she disappeared. No, there she was again!

Daniel could hardly breathe. He saw a figure who seemed to be one with the fire, with the sky behind, who reappeared and disappeared again according to how the flames danced. She stood by herself, completely still, on the other side of the fire, frightfully close to it, staring pensively into the dark, red flames closest to the ground. Daniel could not understand how anybody could stand so close to the fire without getting burned. Then she looked up. Her eyes were big and serious and of the same colour as the sea ...

Then the fire flared up again, and she was gone, only to reappear against the evening sky, now looking down on the ground where the birch branches glowed and burned. A fragile, ethereal figure with dreaming, slanting eyes and an elf-like grace. Almost unreal.

Daniel walked around the fire to say hello to her. She waited for him with a vague, almost inquisitive smile. Once more, he was struck by her shifting, glistening eyes and her light, clear forehead. The impression of something supernatural was probably just an optical illusion triggered by the dancing flames and the mirages created by the heat. Or ... was that actually the case?

He realized that the mixture of European and Oriental in her was extremely successful. With the delicate, oriental grace of her demeanour and her square face, and the light colours of her skin and eyes, she seemed perfect. Her hair was long, as was the custom, and of a shade, that was difficult to determine. It almost seemed to take on the colours of its surroundings. One moment, it was a deep red like the flames, at the next it was as dark as an autumn evening at home in Uppland, and occasionally it reflected the clear yellow glow of sunlight. However, Daniel understood that he was mistaken on one matter – he had thought that she was bound to be blonde. He had forgotten the other, typical hair colour of the Ice People: auburn. This was the main shade of her hair. Her face was a strange mixture of zest for life and sadness.

Daniel stood there for a moment before he pulled himself together to walk over to her. Now he did not have to ask any more. Now he knew that he had found Shira.

Fortunately, his misgivings were put to rest. Shira was not one of the cursed. She was chosen!

Chapter 2

In the early morning, Irovar and Shira were on their way towards land in their small fishing vessel. The Kara Sea was smooth as a mirror; only slow, lazy swells rolled by the shore. Every time the oars were dipped in the water, a snake-like pattern appeared on the surface. Otherwise all was calm.