Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 06 - Evil Legacy

“Nobody knows.”

“Then what did he do?”

“He put all the herbs, plants, potions and objects he possessed into a great kettle and boiled them up to a brew, a potion more terrible than any man could ever imagine. You can be sure that Tengel the Evil knew the recipes to lots of potions like that!”

“Did he drink it?”

“Who knows? Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, he would have said spells over it – to conjure forth the one with goat’s feet, you understand – and it’s said that he was successful, although Grandpa Tengel didn’t believe it. He said it was just a family peculiarity that some of us have cat-like eyes and special powers that normal people don’t have. But nevertheless, I wonder. I always wonder...”

“What?”

“If what they say is true. I think Satan himself might be a part of it all.”

“Jesus!”

“You mustn’t speak like that. You know that perfectly well,” Brand admonished.

Brand continued recounting what he knew of the story for a minute or two, then added in conclusion: “And ultimately it’s said that one of Tengel’s heirs will become the greatest sorcerer there ever was.”

‘That’s me – that’s me!’ thought Kolgrim excitedly. He must be one of the “chosen” as he wanted them to be called. He felt he’d known it for a long time – just one glance in the mirror had told him so. And Tengel the Evil must have drunk from the devil’s potion, that was another thing that he was sure of. And one day he’d do the same – if only he knew where to do it, and how.

“Has Tarjei taken the herbs and potions with him to where he is now?” Kolgrim asked Brand at last.

“To Erfurt? No, Trond didn’t think so,” replied Brand. “And, oh yes, Trond was also one of the accursed. Did you know that?”

No, Kolgrim had never heard that before. If only he’d known when Trond was alive – then the two of them would have become incredibly powerful. Together, he thought, they would have been invincible!

Brand had been quiet for a few moments. Remembering his dead brother had made him feel sad, but suddenly he snapped out of his thoughts.

Brand whispered excitedly: “In among the herbs, plants and all, they say there’s a mandrake!”

Kolgrim knew about these sort of magic herbs. In fact, he already knew far more than anybody imagined and it all held immense interest for him. His head was filled with every detail and he was always thinking about them. Poor Brand, on the other hand, was altogether too trusting to understand the gravity and significance of what he’d planted in Kolgrim’s little black soul.

***

That Sunday, after learning the truth from Brand, Kolgrim pretended that he had a temperature so that he’d have to stay at home when everybody else would be going to church.

As soon as everybody had left for church, Kolgrim went immediately to Linden Avenue and searched quickly through the house and the outbuildings. He found nothing in this first search but he didn’t waste one minute of the long church service and continued looking around a second time. Eventually, he had to creep away when he heard the servants coming back. He had concentrated on the old part of the house, but he couldn’t find the treasure anywhere. Disappointed and in a furious rage, he returned reluctantly to his ‘sickbed’.

The town of Erfurt was so far away that he had no idea where it was – and making such a journey just to hold a knife to the throat of the treacherous Tarjei was impossible. But there was something else he could do and it was something he’d wanted to do for years. He could be free of his rival. The one person who stood between him and so many things now challenged him for the most coveted prize of all: the practical wizardry of the Ice People. He’d soon show them all what happened to those who offended him.

With these thoughts in mind, Kolgrim laid his plans with painstaking precision. Perhaps he remembered the fairytale that Cecilie used to tell him, where the Great Troll became upset when small boys did things to hurt their younger siblings. Whatever his reasons were, he decided against a straightforward killing. There were other, more subtle ways, he told himself.

One day in July he asked to be allowed to go to Christiania with his granddad. He took with him all the coins he’d saved and kept hidden over the years. They were only small amounts of money that he’d been given by well-meaning family and friends – but now at last he had a use for them.

While his granddad was busy on his various errands, Kolgrim visited a stall outside a silversmith’s workshop and bought a nice brooch that would go well with a woman’s traditional costume. Having bought it, he showed it to nobody and during the days that followed, he made further preparations. On one occasion, without saying a word to anyone, he went riding for several hours, searching out locations and routes. As he rode, he listened to the fearful moan of the wind in the treetops, all the time grinning cruelly to himself.

The next evening, satisfied that he’d got everything in place, he made his next move. As the two half-brothers lay in their beds in the room they still shared, Kolgrim whispered to little Mattias: “Have you ever seen fish dancing?”

“No,” answered young Mattias. “Can fish dance?”

“Of course. Would you like to see?”

Mattias said he would.

“But they’re in a magical place,” Kolgrim whispered. “And they only come out at a certain time. We’ll have to creep up on them - but nobody else must know about it.”

“Not even Mum?” asked Mattias thoughtfully.

“No, not Mum – of course not! That would spoil everything, don’t you see?”

His little brother nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Then I’ll take you with me to the place where they dance – but not tomorrow because they won’t be there then. It’ll be the day after. I’ll ride out early to make sure it’s the right day and you can meet me at the edge of the woods by the great oak tree. Let’s say nine o’clock, okay? Do you know the numbers on the clock?”

“No, but I can ask dad.”

“No, for heaven’s sake. Don’t do that! When the maids clear the table after breakfast, that’s when you sneak away. But remember, nobody must see you. We shan’t be gone for long, so nobody will find out.”

“I’ll do as you say,” the good-natured Mattias answered.

The following day Kolgrim said casually to his dad: “Will you allow me to ride into Christiania tomorrow, dad? The last time we were there, I saw a lovely brooch in a silversmith’s window. I’d love to buy it for Grandma Liv so she can wear it in church on the Feast of St. Olaf.”

Kolgrim couldn’t care less about the church, and could usually create a more or less plausible excuse to stay at home.

Tarald was touched by his son’s seeming selflessness.

“But surely you haven’t got enough money for that, Kolgrim?”

“Yes. You see I’ve saved up,” replied Kolgrim, smiling proudly.

“Goodness me! Well done! But you shouldn’t be riding on your own. Maybe I should take time to go with you ...”

“I’m twelve years old, dad! You know that I’m a very good horseman. And I know that I must keep a watch out for robbers and swindlers.”

So early the following day Kolgrim waved goodbye to his concerned parents and rode off towards Christiania. But as soon as he was out of sight of the Graastensholm farms, he turned down hidden paths and byways, making his way around the parish in a large semicircle. Some time later, as he sat astride his horse by the great oak, he watched a little figure trotting across the fields to reach their meeting-place on time. As he waited, an icy calmness settled over Kolgrim’s heart.