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

He didn’t know whether to undress, as he was awaiting a visit from a lady! There didn’t seem to be any nightclothes in the room, so he just took off the outer layers of his clothing, keeping his shirt and breeches on. He looked at his reflection in an old, battered mirror and was pleased with what he saw.

All at once he pricked up his ears.

Voices? He could hear them in the room next door!

It was two women! It sounded as though they were arguing. He could hear the sharp, bitingly ironic voice of the princess and Nicola’s meek, almost sobbing responses.

They were undoubtedly arguing over him!

He tried to work out where they could be. The castle was built in a square surrounding an inner courtyard. In which direction had they gone ...?

No, he couldn’t figure it out and it was pitch dark outside. But perhaps ... there was a possibility that the ladies’ apartments adjoined his bedroom.

He stared at the wall from which the voices were coming. A large tapestry depicting a hunting scene was hanging there. Then he heard something that sounded like a subdued blow and Nicola sobbing.

He hoped this didn’t mean that she wouldn’t be able to come to him! It was no use for him to venture out in search of her, he would just get lost if he did.

The wall? He walked over to it. The single candle he had been given barely lit the room, but he was able to see a little.

He carefully took hold of the tapestry as though he were afraid to touch it. It wasn’t pleasant to the touch, either, it was strangely rough and when he lifted one of its corners away from the wall, a cloud of dust enveloped him.

He looked behind the tapestry. There was a door, but it seemed to be barricaded with boards. He could now hear the voices more clearly. Nicola was trying to protest but was constantly interrupted by the princess’s gruff voice.

Damn! Did that mean that their plan had been revealed? That Nicola would be unable to come to him? That they wouldn’t be able to escape together?

Or that Feodora had won the struggle and intended to visit him herself?

Damn!

He examined the door but it had been nailed shut so thoroughly that it was impossible for him to open it.

What would happen if he knocked on it? Would that just make the situation worse for little Nicola? That poor girl! He felt increasingly attached to her with every minute that passed.

He would have to resign himself to his fate and just hope for the best. Everything depended on her now.

He was powerless, bound hand and foot in this frightening castle he couldn’t find his way around. There was nothing else he could do but wait.

A horrifying thought suddenly struck him. It might be that he was unable to get through that door but perhaps it could be opened in some way from the other side, so someone could sneak in to his room without being seen, someone who was unwelcome?

No, he didn’t think that could be possible. It looked as though it had been firmly barricaded, and he had to stop being so childish!

The voices died away. The women had apparently settled down.

He hadn’t seen any servants other than the scrawny coachman. The princess had probably given them the night off so that they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Yves wondered where the servants slept. The servants’ wing had been dark all evening.

Perhaps they lived down in the village? At the inn? He hoped for their sake that they did. In fact he wished that he himself were there now.

Had it only not been for Nicola, that is!

His uncle would probably be surprised when he saw Yves arrive with the girl the following morning. But he would undoubtedly be pleased with Yves’ decision. A good match, a good name in this country in which they planned to settle down. Of princely origin. That was something that would make an impression around here, he was certain.

Or would his uncle frown on his decision? Perhaps his uncle and Princess Feodora had had a rendezvous the night before, in which case his uncle would be angry with Yves because he had defied the beautiful witch?

Without knowing that the name Stregesti derived from the word “witch”, Yves had called Princess Feodora exactly that – a witch.

Yves stood there at a loss for a moment. But since no more sounds came from the other side of the wall and nothing else occurred, he hesitantly went over to the bed. It seemed that he would have to give up his whole chivalrous rescue expedition. He would just have to hope that new possibilities would arise when morning came.

Yves sat on the edge of the bed. He didn’t feel like lying down. It was as though the ceiling was pressing down on him with its heavy, dark beams, and the dark, dusty hangings around the canopy bed made him ill at ease as well.

He certainly did not feel like blowing out the candle.

He wondered whether he could let it burn all night? Would it last until morning?

You are really stupid, Yves said to himself. You are living like a prince here, when you have been used to sleeping in barns and ditches all the way across Europe. Don’t be silly!

The castle was so quiet that it was as though all the sounds of the world had faded away. No, now he heard steps. He froze.

Were they coming from the hall outside? Or the gallery? Was someone on the way to his room?

It was one of the women, but who?

He was greatly relieved when Nicola’s lovely figure appeared at the door. He rushed over to take her in his arms but she put her fingers to her lips and pointed at the wall with the tapestry.

Her eyes flashed roguishly. Soundlessly she went to him, dressed in a gossamer nightgown and nothing else. It flowed shimmering gracefully about her body as she walked. She stretched out her arms and let herself be caught in his embrace.

How light she was! It was like holding a sprite in your arms. His mouth against her ear, he whispered, “Is this all you have with you for our escape?”

“No, no!” she whispered and, gesticulating, indicated that she had left her things outside the door. That might be a little dangerous if the princess decided to do her nightly rounds in the castle, but Yves was so intoxicated by Nicola’s presence that he forgot all about possible dangers. They were together, their whole life lay before them; they were invulnerable!

She had let down her thick, black hair. It reached her thighs. However, Yves was convinced that the princess’s was longer. He caressed Nicola’s hair and noticed how soft it was. A woman’s hair is sensual, he thought. He had always had a weakness for a woman’s long dark hair and just touching it caused his body to respond and his mind to create fantasies about what could happen ...

“I’m cold,” she whispered.

And he believed her! Imagine sneaking through the chilly castle in that thin garment! Her skin was cold to the touch ...

“Come, I’ll warm you,” he whispered, and lifted her onto the bed the way he had lifted so many other young – and some not so young – women before her. But this time it was special. Never before had he held such a mysterious and stirring woman in his arms! Of course, it also had to do with the surroundings and the situation. To have the chance to trick her away from the beautiful but evil witch, to give her a life among other people, to win a wife of princely descent and, for the first time, a woman he could learn to love!

He knew that this little Nicola was the love of his life!

He covered her and nestled down under the covers with her. In the glow of the candle he observed her beautiful profile.

She placed her hand on his chest. “Won’t you be kind?” she asked. “I am an honourable girl! Be careful!”

If he interpreted her words correctly, she was not exactly unwilling. He himself was like a glowing-hot iron of desire but he knew how to conquer virgins with tenderness.