Margit Sandemo: The Ice People 11 - Blood Feud

“I’ve written to Dominic,” she said quickly.

“About Eldar?” Irmelin exclaimed in surprise.

“No, not at all!”

“Then why on earth have you written to him then? You were always at odds with one another.”

Villemo grabbed at the straw, grateful it was there.

“That is precisely what I wrote to him about. To put an end to the constant quarrels and teasing. But he hasn’t replied,” she added, crestfallen.

“No, I wouldn’t expect him to either. He has a life of his own. Maybe he’s married already. He was extremely good-looking.”

That last remark cut like a knife into Villemo’s heart. Dominic married? Good grief!

“If that were true, we would have heard about it,” she said.

“Don’t be so sure of that,” Irmelin insisted without mercy. “The postal services are lousy.”

That remark was a new knife but at the same time also a consolation. If the post was delayed, then she could still hope for an answer from Dominic.

Irmelin said thoughtfully, “Niklas and Dominic and you were such a trio. I was always on the outside. How I wished then that I also had yellow eyes and could have joined you. But I was just an ordinary mortal.”

Villemo had never looked at it that way before. But now, seeing it from Irmelin’s perspective, she suddenly felt proud to belong to the group that was specially chosen.

“I wonder what it’s all about,” Irmelin went on. “Niklas is still focused on it. He maintains that it has something to do with the curse.”

“Of course it does,” Villemo said hurriedly. “But we’re not evil.”

“I’m not saying that. Niklas asserts that-”

“What?”

“I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

Villemo grabbed her arm.

“I have a right to know. I’m in just as much suspense as he is.”

Irmelin cast a longing glance towards the bowl with wheat cakes, which was now empty. Her guest had eaten them all during the animated conversation.

“Well, anyway, Niklas thinks that Tarjei and Kolgrim knew something.”

“About us? They died long before our time.”

“No, I mean about the curse.”

“Oh, of course. We all know that those two were onto something.”

“Niklas has looked into it. He thinks they found something in the loft here at Graastensholm.”

“I’ve heard that as well.”

“Only nobody’s discovered what it was. And nobody has searched since then. Let’s go up there, Villemo!”

“To the loft?”

“Don’t look so worried! Are you afraid of the dark?”

Yes, she was, but Villemo didn’t want to admit it.

“Alright then, let’s go.”

The dark loft stairs frightened Villemo. As a child, she had never been allowed to go up there, so she was still frightened. The loft at Graastensholm was a strange, eerie world in which all sorts of witchcraft reigned.

During their entire heart-to-heart conversation, she had been wondering whether she should tell Irmelin about the time when Niklas had kissed her. After all, it had merely been a test. There had been no emotions involved. So she decided not to mention it. It would only have upset Irmelin and there was no point in that.

Irmelin opened the creaking loft door. Slowly, a shadowy new world opened before Villemo’s eyes. A few tiny peepholes here and there allowed a tiny bit of light into the loft room.

“Ugh,” she whispered. “There are enough corners and dark places for a whole army of ghosts to hide in.”

Irmelin, who had a more practical view on it, said, “There’s certainly plenty of dust. Come on, let’s look about!”

Weren’t there trolls sitting on the roof beams that criss-crossed just below the ceiling? Weren’t there skeletons hiding in the timeworn material which hung over by the wall? Didn’t the furniture move at night in long strides?

“I don’t think we should, Irmelin.”

“Goodness, Villemo, I had no idea you were such a chicken! These are the possessions of the Meidens. They used them and loved them and made them with their own loving hands.”

“Strange that you mention the objects in that order. Surely they made them before they used and loved them? But I agree, it feels safer if you regard them in that manner.”

“Yes, doesn’t it? Where do you think we should begin our search? We can each take one half of the loft, can’t we.”

But Villemo didn’t like that idea at all, so they searched the loft together.

“I can’t imagine the secret of the Ice People being hidden in this old corset,” Villemo said. “Or in this jar with moustache wax. What have you found?”

“A pot. And some straw goats used as Christmas decorations. No, there’s probably nothing here. Let’s go over to the other corner.”

When they had almost reached it, Villemo held Irmelin back.

“Do you know what? I don’t think we’re alone up here.”

“Oh, please. Don’t be stupid. Come on.”

“No, we shouldn’t get any closer or we’re sure to encounter something.”

Irmelin gave her a frightened look. Villemo’s face had turned horribly pale in the dim light.

“What’s the matter, Villemo?”

Villemo took Irmelin by the hand, quickly scanning the premises, as she led her back towards the middle of the loft.

“This is much better. I don’t sense anything threatening here.”

They looked towards another corner. In the semi-darkness they could discern a table and a big chair with a cloth hanging over it.

“I don’t want Graastensholm to be haunted,” Irmelin whimpered. “Why did you have to mention it in the first place?”

“It’s not ghosts,” Villemo replied nervously. “It’s a force. Like a storm, or fire, or thunder or love. It’s not an evil force, Irmelin. It merely warns.”

They began to whisper now.

“But Tarjei and Kolgrim walked about up here and both of them had to die.”

“Maybe the force doesn’t want us to die.”

“Are you sure that it’s not an evil force, Villemo?”

She tried to sense it again but they were outside its sphere now, and she didn’t have any intention of going back.

“I don’t know” she said. “I got the clear feeling that it was a person behind the force.”

“Good God! You don’t think that it’s-”

“No, it’s not him, whose name we don’t want to mention. Let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”

They walked over towards the stairs. When they had closed the door behind them and returned to the world of human beings, Villemo whispered, “There’s only one person in the entire family who can come back. And it was not an evil force. That I am sure of now. It warned us earnestly, but kindly.”

When they were downstairs, Irmelin whispered, “Was it Sol?”

“Yes, and as you know she only shows up to help people.”

“I know. Do you think I should speak to Mum and Dad about it?”

“Only if it’s necessary. I’m sure it’s fine to go up to the loft without anything happening. But you and I were searching for something specific.”

“Yes, the secret of the Ice People’s curse. If neither Tarjei nor Kolgrim could find it, then we probably can’t either.”

But Irmelin knew that Villemo had more gifts than she was aware of. When they had reached Irmelin’s room once more, Irmelin asked,

“Villemo, do you think it would be awful to give in?”

“What do you mean?” Villemo said, somewhat confused.

“You know, what we talked about earlier. When we spoke about emotions.”

“Oh, Irmelin,” she answered, full of sympathy. “I don’t know what to say. All I know is that I feel deeply for both of you!”

Irmelin’s calm demeanour cracked, and she leaned against her friend, sobbing her heart out.