Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 07 - Nemesis

It was already midnight when he entered the forest by the same path he’d followed earlier in the day. The full moon nearly turned the night into day, with blue shadows underneath the trees and a silvery light on the branches. He could hear a crunching sound when quiet, four-legged creatures moved in the dark. Tancred tried to move silently but the dead leaves of winter were thick on the ground. He was feeling foolish. Why on earth did he believe that he could find Molly in here? Or Jessica for that matter? He was slightly curious about the latter. Why would a young girl run away so often? And Molly, the troublemaker?

So frightened ... What about “Them?”

Of course, they were the relatives. Maybe they were out to grab Jessica’s heritage?

No, he must stop imagining things.

Tancred stopped and looked about.

The forest was silent now. He damned his thoughtlessness for not having found out how the moon had stood in relation to his aunt’s estate. Rather high up, but on which side?

Now Tancred no longer knew where he was. The forest looked the same on all sides. Bewitched, mystical, inscrutable.

What about wild boar?

There were many wild boar in Denmark, and they could turn quite temperamental when disturbed. And he was unarmed.

It was no use painting things in the darkest of colours.

He wandered aimlessly about. He had no idea how thick the forest could be, but it was probably not endless. If he didn’t walk in circles, he was bound to get out of it somehow.

It was no use trying to turn round and walk home again because he no longer knew in which direction the estate was situated.

Tancred’s brow was furrowed in irritation. It was so unlike him to make such an error.

Or maybe it was like him? He had to admit that he did not often think sensibly.

The fact was that never before had a girl interested him in this way. She had piqued his curiosity and she had been gentle, pretty and helpless. Tancred’s knightly instincts had been awoken. Those kind of instincts ran in the Paladin family.

He walked and walked through the rustling leaves, more and more confused. The thought that it was like an endless incursion into Dante’s Inferno, a punishment for all his past sins, entered his mind.

Much later, he entered a strange area where long strings of moss hung from the branches of ancient trees. The tree trunks were white and dead, making them resemble grotesque homes for elves and trolls. Dried grass and leaves on the ground had rotted more here. A dead world, thought Tancred.

He stopped all of a sudden. A glade opened up between the dense trees. A silver-grey path, the first he had seen in this forest.

The shadows were jet-black under the trees.

Tancred walked as if bewitched along the moon-lit path. It seemed that nobody had walked along this path for many years. Everything was so quiet, so lifeless. Yet he followed the path because it was bound to lead to somewhere.

He had to walk for a long time. He had almost forgotten that he was looking for Molly because he was so curious about the path. The trees became older and bigger. Now and then he heard a bang when a branch yielded to age. This made him glance nervously at the trees above him. So he didn’t notice that the path curved, and when he looked ahead once more, he was startled.

A castle rose towards the night sky, ancient and weather-beaten, with an overgrown moat around it.

A soft yellow light came from a small, barred window on the first floor ...

Surely nobody lives here, he thought, shocked.

He stood a while in the shadow of the forest, gazing at the incredible, eerie building. He had to admit that the sight made him feel small and scared, like a child.

Then he straightened his back and thought matter-of-factly.

He saw that the path went along the moat and out at the other side. He must have arrived at the back of the castle.

But that light ...?

Hesitantly, he moved closer. He crept up to the moat, which stank of decay, and walked along its edge.

Another landscape opened up at the front of the castle. A small lake, hardly bigger than a pond. Behind was a new forest, which seemed to consist only of oak trees where the road winded. He was unable to see any further.

The castle in the forest ...

It was something out of a fairy tale. It put Tancred in an adventurous mood. Everything was so unreal, so unbelievable. As if the moonlight had created this sight – of the castle ruins in the dead forest.

But the drawbridge over the moat was certainly real, hanging together with decayed planks. Tancred was young and brave but even so he glanced with disgust at the water, which was green with algae.

He crossed the drawbridge carefully.

Maybe this was where Jessica and Molly hid? That was certainly a possibility.

The light from the window faced the forest. Surely nobody expected anyone to come from that direction... but Tancred had. And he had seen the secretive glow.

He crossed the bridge in one piece and touched the door. It was heavy, but with the pressure of his hand it glided open with a moaning sound that echoed in the hall which he had entered.

He couldn’t see much but the moonlight shone through the door onto a worn stone floor. Above him, he caught a glimpse of old, threadbare war flags and coats-of-arms on the walls. The shields were far too rusty for him to be able to see which families they belonged to.

He could faintly see the foot of a staircase at the other end of the hall. Tancred’s steps echoed as he walked across the stone floor.

He tiptoed up the winding staircase and stood on the first floor. The moonlight shone through a series of gun slits in the one wall. He walked towards them in the hope of seeing more of the landscape. But the wall overlooked the forest. And the forest seemed endless.

He was quick to figure out where the light had come from. He entered a dark corridor in the inner part of the castle – and quite right: A faint light could be seen underneath a door.

What was he to do now? Throw himself against the door and yell?

No, not Tancred. He knocked gently on the door.

A drowsy voice immediately answered:

“Come in!”

The voice belonged either to a man with a high-pitched voice or a woman with a deep voice.

He opened the door. He was annoyed when his heart beat quickly. He did not tend to be nervous. No, not at all! Yet the bewitched, somewhat unpleasant atmosphere had affected him.

Tancred was not in the least bit surprised at the sight that met him inside. The room was lavishly furnished in an old-fashioned way – with carpets on the floors and white sheepskin over all the chairs and benches. The fire crackled in the fireplace.

The middle of the room was dominated by a huge, low bed, also covered with sheepskin. And a woman rose from it.

She was formidable. Tancred could not find any other word.

She was dressed in a magnificent, deep-blue cape, which reached right down to the floor. Her sparkling, auburn hair flowed freely over her shoulders and right down her back. Her hungry eyes were wide-set; her cheekbones were very high and broad; and her red, painted lips seemed to be able to swallow young children for breakfast. She was strikingly beautiful – and as intimidating as a snake.

She gazed at Tancred’s entrance, smiling with amusement.

Finally, he recovered his voice.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” he stammered because he did not know how she should be addressed, so he guessed a high status to be on the safe side. “I saw the light and was curious ... My name’s Margrave Tancred Paladin. I ...”

He lost the thread. Her mouth turned into a beastly smile, baring broad, pointed teeth.

“Tancred Paladin,” she smiled, and her voice was deep and sensuous. “A true knight. Not Tancred of Brindisi, the crusader? He was so tragic and saintly. How old are you, young man?”