Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 11 - Blood Feud

Permanent? Goodness, wasn’t she naïve. How on earth did she imagine that she would ever get out of this place? Even if, against all odds, she actually managed to reach the small ledge, how would she ever get up the cliff?

Finally, the seriousness of the situation dawned on Villemo, who let out a heartrending scream in her distress. She cried for help, she yelled her head off even though she knew that she was much too remote for anyone to hear her.

All except for maybe one single person, who was not supposed to hear her. Because then he (or she) would simply return and finish off the job. It would be very easy for that person to give the birch tree a simple push with a long pole or branch. That was all it would take for Villemo to lose her balance.

Without knowing it, she had been lying on top of the birch branch for almost an hour. Time no longer existed for her. She was unable to determine whether only a few minutes or several hundred years had passed.

Her muscles hurt but she didn’t dare move her body any more. She had managed to gain a better foothold, though. The tips of her toes touched firm ground, only she was unable to see how firm. She dug them down into the grass, earnestly praying that the earth wouldn’t begin to give way.

Her only chance of being rescued was to cry for help no matter how futile this might seem. She couldn’t do any more to save herself. Another half-hearted attempt at getting on her feet had only caused more creaking. It would be best not to further challenge the birch tree which was her only friend at that point.

It was getting dark in the forest as twilight fell. Villemo realised that she must have been lying there for several hours. How would things turn out when she was no longer able to keep her sleepiness at bay?

She shouted a new, long and exhausted cry for help. Something was rustling in the grass above her. She had become accustomed to the boom of the water, so other sounds now registered more clearly in her ears.

Oh, God, what if it’s the person who pushed me? Villemo fell silent. Then she heard a voice.

“Martha?”

There was a certain power behind the shout from up above.

“No, I’m not Martha,” she shouted back with a whimper. “I’m Villemo. Please come and help me, I won’t be able to hang here much longer!”

“Good God! Hold on, miss, hold on for just a little bit. I’ll bring help.”

Villemo could only see the terrifying cliff and the water down below. She didn’t even dare to raise her head enough to look at the slope above her. All she could see was the lowest part, which was very steep and not exactly inviting.

The minutes ticked away and each of them felt like an aeon to Villemo. All her muscles and limbs were beginning to shake violently from the great, drawn-out effort.

Just as she was beginning to think that the tiny flicker of hope that had been instilled in her was mere folly, a delusion created by her brain’s wishful thinking, she heard new voices. They were a man’s and a woman’s.

“Miss Villemo?”

“Can you hear us?”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“We have a rope,” the man shouted. “I’ll tie it to a tree and then I’ll lower myself down.”

“Please be careful,” she managed to say.

“Don’t worry. My wife is keeping an eye on things from up here.”

It was a simple and unschooled voice. But Villemo loved it. Never before had she heard a lovelier voice say lovelier words!

Time passed at a snail’s pace. She could hear the two of them murmuring to each other, heard them struggle and carry on. Her arms were aching as if they were burning up from within. She had cramps in her legs which she had had for longer than she could remember. Had there really been a time before this? A life before she was hanging here, face down above a whirlpool in the abyss?

The birch cut into her skin. Small flakes of slate began to shower over her. The man up there was on his way down.

‘Good God,’ Villemo prayed silently. ‘Protect him and don’t let him fall because that would be my fault, and I can’t bear the thought. I’ve already caused one person’s death, which I’ll never be able to forget. Good God, I know I haven’t prayed enough to you, and it’s cowardly to start now when I can’t fend for myself, but at least I’m honest enough to admit it! Please let it count for something! I now beseech you to let this man get through this alive. And – if it so pleases you – let me also be allowed to see the earth, the grass, the forest, the sky and my beloved home again. Let me tell my dear, sweet parents how much I love them! Please allow me to be nice towards them and not just a nuisance! Please allow me to be useful in this life! I haven’t done so well in that respect so far. I’m afraid I haven’t spoken as many nice words as I should have, either. I have so many things to say to my parents! Good God, please help me for their sake!”

Something swayed downward before Villemo’s eyes. First, she flinched in the belief that it was a reptile, but then she saw that it was the one end of a rope. It was a clumsy piece of rope with tangled fibres that stuck out in all directions and was held together with plenty of osier shoots.

‘Oh, God, is the rope strong enough?’ she thought, frightened.

Before she had time to ask whether she should seize it, the man shouted, rather close to her,

“Don’t touch it! Stay completely still!”

Villemo could feel that he had managed to put his feet on the narrow ledge. Then he shouted something up to his wife, which she was unable to catch.

“Careful,” Villemo warned one more. “Don’t fall down. I’m only just holding on myself.”

“I can see that,” the man answered in a trembling voice. Villemo was full of admiration for his bravery.

“Now I’ll try to place the rope around you, miss.”

How is he going to do that? Villemo thought. He can’t reach that far, and I’m completely unable to help. After a fumbling, nerve-racking attempt the man realised that it would be impossible.

“Tie the rope around my ankles,” Villemo suggested.

The man reflected on this for a short while.

“So that you’ll be lifted upside down?”

“It’s the only way. After all, I’ve been hanging with my head down for a long time now, so I’m used to it. Provided the rope is flexible enough?”

“Yeah, it’ll be alright, I think. But what if it manages to slip off?”

The mere thought made Villemo feel queasy. She gritted her teeth and reminded herself that now was not the time to faint.

“I suppose I’ll have to flex my feet stick my toes out.”

It sounded as if the man was chuckling slightly. A desperate laughter. He hesitated for a long time but then he said, “I think it’s our only chance. But ... well, if I may say something, miss?”

“Yes?”

“This birch has taken all it can withstand. Just one tiny movement will make it break.”

“I know. I love this birch.”

“I can well understand.”

The man then managed to very carefully tie the end of the rope around her ankles and finally tie a knot which was stiff and clumsy because of the osier shoots.

“All we had was one single piece of rope,” he said. “And I can’t hold onto the ledge without it. We must be towed up together.”

“With this piece of rope? Is it strong enough for that?”

“We’ll have to pray to God that it is, miss,” the main said in a serious tone of voice.

“Surely your wife can’t pull the two of us up?”

“I asked her to bring some neighbours along.”

“So there’s nobody up there right now?”

“No, not just now. We’ll have to wait.”

Villemo moaned to herself. But things didn’t seem quite as desperate anymore. She was now tightly secured to the world and she had company.