Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 20 - Wings of the Raven

Perhaps he could take them both on? Since the princess was so attractive ...

No, no, what was he thinking? It was Nicola he wanted and he was quite certain that his uncle had his eye on the older woman.

Where was his uncle, by the way?

Yves asked about the remains of the village he had seen by the lake below the castle.

The princess explained to him that it was as he had suspected. The valley had once been the centre of the region and the prince had resided in the castle. But there had been an unfortunate occurrence in the valley ...

“The plague?” Yves asked.

“Well, in a way,” the princess answered vaguely. The village was wiped out, she explained, and the few survivors moved to the area where the inn was now situated. She and Nicola were the last descendants of the prince and they had no intention of leaving Stregesti.

“It must be a long time since the village was abandoned,” Yves noted. “I noticed that the forest reaches all the way to the houses now and the ivy winds about the ruins.”

“Yes, that happened a long time ago,” Feodora answered gently.

Yves did not say aloud what he was thinking: that the forest was also creeping into the castle and had almost reached the gate, posing like a secret enemy ready to strangle the building.

From a distance the castle must look frightening, Yves thought. With its clumsy, square tower and its embrasures and battlements it protruded through the forest that seemed to have a life of its own. However, inside it was beautiful. Gloomy and heavy, but beautiful in its own way.

After the meal the ladies showed him around the castle. They entered a room lit by a chandelier. Yves felt paralysed by the forceful magnetism of the two ladies. The princess was explicitly erotic, whereas Nicola was more submissively sensual.

“So I take it that it isn’t possible to get to Sibiu by going in that direction?” Yves asked, pointing eastwards along the valley. At least that was the direction he assumed the valley was, there were no windows from which he could look out. “We have to go back to the inn and return the way we came, is that not true?”

Princess Feodora directed her suggestive gaze at him. He grew oddly faint when he looked into her eyes.

“No, no, you can go in that direction. There is an old, overgrown path. Your uncle asked the very same thing. It wouldn’t surprise me if he has been trying to find that path himself, and that is what is delaying him.”

“But that could be dangerous!”

“Not at all! You yourself saw our sheep down in the valley, didn’t you? How they were grazing safely and securely. Trust me, had there been predators in the area, they would have turned back to the castle immediately.”

Yves was silent but his own thought shocked him. It wasn’t predators that he feared.

It was the forest.

They went on through the many beautiful rooms in the castle as the princess talked and explained. Yves heard the entire history of the castle.

But he noticed that although she gladly showed him everything in the castle that was of historical interest, and there was much, there was one room that they never entered, despite the fact that they passed its dark, carved door several times. It was the room from which the princess and Nicola had emerged when they came to bid Yves welcome. And if he wasn’t mistaken, there were most likely other rooms behind it. But they were probably the ladies’ bedrooms, so he quite understood that it wouldn’t be suitable to show those private chambers to a gentleman.

Apart from that he was given plenty of information about the castle and the complicated history of the country. Stregesti had once been situated strategically as a defence against the advancing tribe that wanted to capture the country. The valley was now far off the beaten track and no longer significant militarily. But the Turks were not far away: they ruled Wallachia, which was only a few valleys away.

The castle contained some extraordinary treasures. Feodora showed Yves her father’s crown – he had been prince of the region – and a sword that her father had used in a battle during which he had beheaded fifteen of his enemy’s men. Yves noticed her coldness as she told the story.

But she became more emotional when she told the legend of Anciol, a young daughter of the family. She showed him her bridal gown, a magnificent specimen in brocade, tulle, gold and emeralds, though all as thin as a spider’s web from the ravages of time.

“It was never worn,” said Feodora in a sorrowful voice. “Anciol waited in vain for her groom, who betrayed her on her wedding day with someone else. She lay paralysed for a whole week. The shame of it must have been unbearable. Then she jumped off the cliffs here.”

Feodora went over to a big table. Now she was smiling.

“Do you see the marks on the table? They are from the wild Bogdan. He was one of my forefathers and he was also a prince. Once during a great ball he came riding into the ballroom on his horse. He had gathered all his enemies for a feast in atonement, but as they sat at the table full and drunk he rode along the table and mowed down as many as he could. Those who tried to escape were captured by his loyal warriors and hung head down outside in the strong sun until they died. You can still see the marks where the stakes were planted right outside the gate ...”

Yves thought that she was starting to sound rather too macabre, especially as she seemed increasingly inflamed with enthusiasm as she told the story.

Nicola said nothing; she seemed ill at ease and her eyes often sought Yves’ glance. He gave her an encouraging smile and in his smile he made a promise to her that he would liberate her from this captivity.

The scrawny coachman entered and murmured something to Feodora. Her face lit up and she turned to Yves.

“Delightful! Your uncle has just left word that he has returned to the inn and since he is extremely tired he has gone directly to bed. He sends his greetings and says that he is in good health and will await you tomorrow morning. For he assumed that you would be just as pleased talking to us as he was and that you, too, would prefer to stay long into the night.”

Yves wasn’t so sure about that. He had had enough of all the bloodthirsty stories of the castle that the princess had so kindly shared with him. But he had other reasons for wanting to stay. There might be a greater chance now of taking Nicola with him.

And it was, of course, a great relief to hear that his uncle was well!

“Your uncle said that you would be continuing your journey tomorrow morning. Well, we’re going to miss both of you, but I’m afraid there isn’t much we can do to convince you to stay!”

Yves gave her a regretful smile and stretched out his hand. “No, unfortunately we must be on our way,” he said, not without some relief in his voice. “But I must say that it has been an unexpected and extremely pleasant interruption.”

Later that afternoon he finally had an opportunity to speak with Nicola in private. Until then it had always seemed as though her aunt was strictly monitoring her. And she was so suspicious ...

The two young people spoke in fast and hectic whispers. After a brief discussion they agreed that Nicola should come to Yves’ room late in the evening and wait there until they could sneak out while everyone was sleeping.

“But we will have to be very quiet in your room,” Nicola said. “The princess sleeps right next door and could enter the room if we don’t block the door properly. She has many methods.”

That piece of information made Yves’ hair stand on end. He knew that Princess Feodora wanted him and that there was a good chance that she might try to approach him with one thing in mind ...