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

After they had had a good rest, Irovar got up. “Do you know the road?” Daniel asked as he helped Shira to her feet.

“Nobody has ever reached as far as this,” Irovar answered. “Besides, how am I to know what we’re moving towards?”

They continued their arduous trek over barren expanses covered with short, brownish-yellow grass between grey-white stones that had fallen down the mountain slopes. Up here it was cold, and a soft breeze swept through the mountain grass. If anyone was puzzled by the absence of the prisoners or the Mountain Guardians, they never said so out loud.

Daniel looked thoughtfully at Shira, who walked in front of him. She was dressed in her finery now that she was to visit Taran-gai to try to come to terms with her path in life. She wore the full dress of the Samoyeds: a tunic made of small, triangular, multicoloured pieces of skin and soft, light summer boots. Her beautiful hair: now Daniel could see that auburn was its dominant colour. She had been plaiting her shining hair while they rested, as if she was afraid that the others would notice how many colours it had.

There was something touching about her fine clothes, and Daniel felt a lump in his throat. As if she had dressed nicely but completely in vain ...

Irovar stopped and bent down. He pulled a small, insignificant plant out of the ground, carefully brushing the dirt off the root. Then he cut it into small pieces, put some in his mouth and gave one piece each to the two others. Shira immediately began to chew hers. Daniel followed her example hesitantly.

“This is the stimulant of the Taran-gais,” Irovar explained. “My wife taught me to use it. It’s good and gives pleasant dreams.”

More than that, Daniel thought. I’m beginning to feel dizzy ... but it’s pleasant!

“Your teeth don’t become discoloured or anything like that?”

“Not at all. It only grows here in Taran-gai, and the Samoyeds would give much for it.”

“I would really like to take some back to Ulvhedin,” Daniel said. “He’s very interested in medicinal herbs; he would get a lot out of it.”

“There you are,” Irovar said, handing him some plants. Daniel accepted them gratefully and hid them away.

It was now late afternoon. They had reached some grey-green cliff formations with snow between them when they heard somebody following them once more. They threw themselves behind the boulders and kept a lookout over the rugged, deserted landscape.

The weather was no longer so clear. Heavy clouds had rolled in from the west, covering the summits in a grey mist. They felt enveloped by this grey mist and no longer knew where they were in relation to Nor, or the taiga, for that matter.

They were at least able to see some distance down the slope, they had climbed. There the prisoners, whom they thought of as their enemies, were sneaking up, heading right towards them. The prisoners had not yet caught sight of them but they bent down frequently to examine the ground. They were bound to find footprints. None of the three had thought of erasing their traces. They counted eight pursuers in all.

Irovar looked about. The road down was blocked. To the left was the pass they were heading towards, but their pursuers were bound to catch up with them there. Directly in front of them was a mountain wall. It was impossible to get past.

They had only one possibility. To their right was a shapeless rock barrier, but it was impossible to guess what was behind it. If they could reach it without being seen, they would have a slight respite. They would hardly leave any tracks on the bare cliffs.

They jointly considered the situation. Irovar was wearing a bright red scarf. He would have to hide that, but otherwise they blended nicely with the surroundings. They began to crawl on all fours up the impassable terrain. They had to be very careful not to dislodge loose stones, and all the while, they looked back to see whether their pursuers down below had seen them. But for the moment, it seemed that the prisoners were focusing their attention on the pass to the left, and their quarry’s quiet, rapid progress through the sheltering boulders meant that they did not see Irovar, Shira and Daniel.

A final, desperate crawl, and the big stones hid them. They crept together and heaved a sigh of relief.

“We won’t be able to outwit them very much longer,” Daniel said quietly. “And we can’t go back. Where are we now?”

They gazed at the new nature phenomenon that lay ahead of them. Under the clouds, a bluish densely packed snow brightened everything. A glacier with new cliffs lay on the other side. Farther ahead it disappeared in grey-white clouds. Down below, there was nothing but boulders.

Shira shuddered.

“Comforting,” Daniel commented wryly.

“We’ll have to cross it,” Irovar said. “But cautiously! There may be cracks under the snow.”

Shira stepped out on the glacier, putting her feet lightly between the treacherous crevasses and holes. The men followed immediately behind her.

When they were about halfway across the glacier, Irovar slipped and bumped into Shira, who lost her balance. The very next moment she was stuck, with one foot hopelessly wedged in a narrow crevasse. Her knee was locked so she knelt down on the other knee and tried to pull herself up. But in vain.

The others were silent in despair. Of course, they tried to cut her loose but one knife broke immediately against the rock-solid ice and the other was as effective as if they had been trying to cut stone.

Daniel crouched down, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Does this hurt?”

She nodded, her lips clenched. Irovar was inconsolable because he was the one who had driven Shira into this.

“We’ll find a way of getting you onto your feet,” Daniel said, comforting her. “Maybe a sharp stone ...”

But the stones on the glacier were rubbed smooth and round by centuries of ice and wind.

Shira tried to melt the snow and ice around her knee with the warmth of her hands. Her lips trembled. They were haunted ... they were delayed, soon night would fall and they knew nothing about these inhospitable mountains, did not even know where they were heading.

What was she to do? She was hopelessly stuck. Suddenly she realized that the men next to her had fallen silent. She heard Daniel let out a soft gasp. Shira lifted her head.

They stood, gazing up towards the glacier. The cloud cover had lifted a bit now, and they could see farther into the distance.

Shira struggled to breathe. Ranged on the ice above them stood five men in skin clothes. Nearest to them was a tall, elderly man with greyish hair and beard and big skin boots. Not far from him stood two younger men, their gaze fixed on Shira. One had long, dark hair that reached almost to his waist. The other was surprisingly young and had a defiant expression on his slightly vague face.

Farther up on the ice, a fourth man was gazing with great interest at the helpless girl. In his coarse face a merciless smile played about his lips, revealing big tusks with no other teeth in between. Black hair hung in strands down over his eyes. His whole appearance showed only too clearly that he was an evil person. His fingers toyed with a knife blade.

But it was the fifth man who drew everybody’s attention. Shira felt everything go black as she lifted her head to look at him. Daniel, who after all was used to Ulvhedin, felt as if the ground was swaying beneath him. The man stood right up in the mist and they could hardly see him, but what they could see was plenty! He carried a huge bow and stood completely motionless, like an anticipating, horrible threat from another world.

Maybe there had once been something human about his facial features, but none of them believed it. Right now, there was nothing human about him. A kind of mask seemed to lie over his face. A mask of the utmost horror that it was humanly possible to imagine.