Margit Sandemo: The Ice People 11 - Blood Feud

“Of course,” Hilde said in her usual, kind voice. But her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere, which was no wonder.

That day changed Villemo in many ways. She became silent and pensive, lost in her thoughts even when she was with her parents at mealtimes, or in the great parlour in the evenings.

Villemo had entered a necessary period of soul-searching. A few weeks later, she sat down in her room and wrote a letter to her relative, Dominic.

Dear friend,

You’re bound to be surprised at receiving a letter from me because I don’t think this has ever happened before.

The thing is I feel so perplexed and have nobody to talk to about it. So much is happening around me, and I feel that I’m in a vast vacuum where nothing is real. I’m also frightened, and I don’t dare to speak to my parents about it. I’ve caused them enough worry already.

In the past, those of us who were the same age would always stick together, especially those of us who had cats’ eyes – you and I and Niklas. Although you tended to tease me the most, I always felt at ease in your company.

Now we’re no longer together. Niklas and Irmelin want to marry one another, but aren’t allowed to do so because of the evil legacy. They’re in such great despair and so absorbed in each other that I am no longer involved. Lene is to marry Örjan Stege, whom you undoubtedly know, and we’re all invited to the wedding this summer. So she’s also focused on herself. They say that Tristan has become so strange, so I don’t feel like writing to him. All I’ve got is you, Dominic, and please be nice and try to take me seriously – I wouldn’t be able to bear it if you teased me right now.

It’s as if I’m waking up from a long dream. Goodness, I’m so horrible. I think self-pity is the right (and ugly) word for it. And I’ve had no reason to feel that way – something which I realise now that I’m experiencing things that I can’t explain. A few weeks ago, I was attacked by a rider in black in the forest. He tried to trample me with his horse. I don’t know why, because I don’t think I’ve ever met him before. But his face was hidden, so I’m not sure. I managed to get away but the incident left me frightened in ways that I didn’t fully understand until now. In fact, I find that I’m quite upset and shaken these days. And even before this incident, the farm was being guarded and our farmhands were being questioned about me. I’m practically afraid of my own shadow now and hardly dare to go out. Never again will I have the courage to take the shortcut through the forest.

At the same time it feels so silly. What is it that I’m so afraid of? Of dying? I, who no longer have anything to live for and who is just a nuisance to everybody.

Oh, Dominic, being so lonely is very difficult. I mean inside, in my soul. Of course, I should have accepted my fate when I encountered the rider. But I don’t want to be trampled to death! That would be such an undignified and grotesque way of dying!

Suicide is out of the question. I believe that would cause my closest family too much grief. Do you know what? The day E. passed away (Villemo couldn’t bring herself to write his full name) something strange happened. The three of us – Niklas, you and I – have always wondered about our yellow eyes. And to my great disappointment, I have never been able to find a reason for having them. I mean, you two possess unique gifts, but I don’t. But when E. was dying, he asked me so fervently to follow him to the border of the land of shadows. I was very much tempted because I felt that it was my own life that was burning up at that moment.

Then, all of a sudden, I had my first vision, if that’s the right word. It was so intense that it hurt. I knew instinctively that you and I and Niklas must live on. We had been chosen for something that was so frightening that I was unable to breathe properly. I was unable to sense what it was, only that my dear love, E., was involved somehow.

You see behind people’s masks, Dominic. Have you had a similar foreboding? Your ability to see through people is probably why I’m so afraid of you and why there’s such tension between us. I always imagine that you know everything about me and find me ridiculous and childish, and God knows what else ...

Am I really so hopeless, Dominic? Do I only think of myself? I think that I care about other people. My heart bleeds for Irmelin and Niklas who can’t marry each other. Yesterday I wept for their sake. And then there are the slow-witted people that we have on our farm. I can sympathise with them and understand how they feel. Even so, my life isn’t fulfilling. I want to experience something new all the time and I’m always looking ahead. But that seems to be changing now that I’ve experienced something evil.

Oh, dear. This has turned into a terribly pessimistic and self-absorbed letter. However, this was to be expected considering the frame of mind I’m in at the moment. Please answer me, dearest Dominic, tell me about your world, your life and all your loved ones. I think this would make many things easier for me.

Yours affectionately,

Villemo

When she had finished sealing the letter, she paused for a moment. She felt a strong urge to add: Only I don’t want to know anything about girlfriends or marriage plans.

But she didn’t. Dominic’s private life was none of her business. She couldn’t demand of others that they be unattached as well as her. She quickly had the letter sent off before there was any chance of her having second thoughts.

And in August, Villemo did something she had long been dreading: she went up to the Black Forest. She felt it was her duty to tell Eldar’s family about his last days. She was surprised to discover how few they were. Eldar’s parents and young siblings were alive, but otherwise their ranks on the farm had depleted to an alarming degree. When she asked where everybody was, she was told how each one of them had faced various accidents, either alone in the forest or in the capital, Christiania. She instinctively felt that the older ones were hiding something from her.

Villemo wasn’t given a cordial welcome, but then she hadn’t expected one. Eldar’s parents greeted her with only a grumpy silence. They had put flatbread and milk on the table, but made it clear that they only did so out of duty.

More unsure than ever, she stuttered, “I would have come up a long time ago to talk to you-”

“I don’t know whether we have anything to talk to you about,” the woman muttered.

“About Eldar,” Villemo continued with brave persistence. “After all, we spent his last months together.”

The old man snorted.

“Eldar was a good man,” Villemo said sadly. “You have every right to be proud of him.”

“I see,” the mother responded curtly.

The younger children sat on the bench, looking at her fixedly. The brother she had spoken with a bit at Linden Avenue was no longer there. He had been killed in Christiania. She was told that he had been stabbed with a knife in a narrow alley.

“Eldar was one of the most trusted men of the insurgency movement,” Villemo continued, unperturbed. “He fell while he was on duty. He sacrificed his life for his country.”

After a somewhat uneasy pause, the father drawled, “Why was he there in the first place? Wouldn’t it have been better if he’d taken care of the farm? Now there’s hardly anyone left to take over.”

“I can certainly see that,” Villemo said sympathetically. “What about Gudrun?”

Then everybody fell completely silent. The mother, who had been busy baking, slammed the dough onto the table.

“Gudrun’s dead,” she snapped.

“What? How on earth did that happen?”

The old man laughed bitterly.