Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 06 - Evil Legacy

Although he’d written letters home previously to tell them of his marriage to Cornelia and the baby they were expecting, he had no way of knowing whether or not they’d been received. However, on this occasion the postal services were swift and he soon received a reply from his dad, Are. The letter had been written with great self-control, but even so Tarjei was deeply upset when he read it.

The letter said that Mattias hadn’t been found. Yrja had become terribly sluggish and lethargic because she could find no joy in life any more. The letter added that Kolgrim was the one who helped them a lot so now everybody at Graastensholm put their trust in him. After all the violent arguments and suspicions when Mattias first went missing, emotions had calmed down and Tarald and Yrja now treated Kolgrim as their only son. Yet heartache still lingered in every corner of Graastensholm.

It hardly seemed possible but the letter said that things were becoming even worse at Linden Avenue. On top of the grief of losing Mattias, Meta had fallen seriously ill. Was it possible for Tarjei to come soon, his dad asked? They were putting their faith in him because there was nobody else to ask.

Only now it was much more difficult for Tarjei to leave. The baby was due in only a few weeks’ time and Cornelia had been feeling poorly – although her every symptom was grotesquely exaggerated. He quickly made up his mind that he’d travel home as soon as the baby was born no matter what Cornelia said because he was beginning to feel very worried indeed. Although he didn’t have very much in common with Meta, she was, after all, his mother, and he loved her dearly. Then there was poor little Mattias, of course, who’d always made him feel so happy and at ease. All in all, Tarjei felt that it was almost too much to take in.

Cornelia said nothing about his plans to leave after the baby was born. In fact, Cornelia said nothing about anything ever again. At the very moment that Tarjei’s son came into the world, his mother departed from it as quickly and as quietly as a candle being snuffed out. Despite all his skills as a physician, Tarjei could do nothing. Her life simply slipped through his fingers and he never knew why. He could do no more than guess that his Cornelia had a weak heart.

It wasn’t until after her death that Tarjei understood just how much he’d loved her. Her impertinent babble, her humour, the gentle touch of her hands and the way her arms so willingly and frequently wrapped around him in a lazy embrace. She could certainly be arrogant and manipulative at times but always, he reminded himself, she acted out of love for him.

As he pondered all these things in his deep sadness, he also gradually came to realise that in time Cornelia would almost certainly have destroyed his willpower. She would have watched his scientific pursuits fall to pieces without remorse provided he continued to love her loyally – and she would almost certainly have turned him into a disillusioned and embittered man. Yet despite realising all this, he remained inconsolable. It was Cornelia’s Aunt Juliana who sustained him.

“Go home to your family, Tarjei,” she said softly. “Go back home and take care of your ailing mother! You mustn’t allow yourself to mourn any longer. It’ll be your ruin. Cornelia has been laid to rest and I promise to take good care of your little son while you’re away.”

She paused before asking: “Have you given any thought to what his name will be?”

Tarjei reacted with a little expression of shocked realisation. He’d barely had time to look at the child since his birth and he realised he’d neglected him.

“His name? I don’t know. Mikael, I think, approximately after my dear mother, Meta – and Cornelius of course. Mikael Cornelius ... Yes! Those will be his names.”

“Very well!” said Juliana. “Then I’ll wish you a safe journey back home. You were a good man for Cornelia. She was happy right to the end, and she didn’t suffer at her death.”

Tarjei left shortly afterwards, leaving his grief behind him but feared that new sorrows lay ahead. Aboard the ship, as it fought its way across the open waters of the Kattegat, he lay listening to the wind whining as it tugged and beat at the rigging and the sails. The jarring sounds echoed his deep-seated conflict of emotions until eventually they seemed to swamp his consciousness. Was the noise coming from within him – or was nature’s harsh chorus a reflection of his own torment?

Until the ship set sail, he’d not found time to think much about his newborn son, Mikael Cornelius Lind of the Ice People. Now he tried to remember how he looked ... He had dark hair, of course, like both his parents. It was thick and black but with a tinge of the copper-brown that Silje’s auburn hair had contributed to the family and was still stubbornly making its appearance among her descendants. This was unusual because Tengel’s colouring, the jet-black hair and swarthy features of the Ice People, should have dominated. Dag’s and Meta’s blonde hair and blue eyes had little chance of making their mark on the following generations.

Like any newborn baby, Mikael’s face was largely devoid of character and had no distinguishing features that he could recall. He regretted now that he hadn’t spent more time cradling the boy in his arms, showing him from the start how much love he truly felt for him. Throughout his life, Tarjei realised, Mikael Cornelius would only ever have the love of one genuine parent due to the unfortunate circumstances of his birth. Growing drowsy in his cabin berth, Tarjei vowed quietly to himself that he’d never forget this and would always do his best to compensate for Cornelia’s absence. But as he fell into a troubled sleep, he wondered how he could care adequately for a young child on his own.

***

Tarjei returned to Linden Avenue on a dark and rainy day in April 1635. He arrived too late for him to do anything to save his mother because her condition had deteriorated and now she was beyond help. Nevertheless, she was delighted at seeing him again and his presence filled her with fresh hope. She was absolutely certain that her Tarjei could work wonders.

While he comforted her and made her final days free from pain, he contemplated the life that was ebbing away from the tiny frail body lying in that bed. Meta, born to a village whore, had grown up unhappy and alone. Rescued by Sol in the countryside in faraway Scania and brought back home, she’d become a good, well-respected, hardworking farmer’s wife at Linden Avenue where she’d borne three sons. Two of them had done well – one as a farmer and the other as a man of science – while the third, Trond, whom she’d also worshipped, had succumbed to the enduring curse of the Ice People.

Meta died shortly after Tarjei’s arrival. It was as if she’d been waiting to see him before she passed away. Her funeral was a magnificent affair and everything she could have wished for. It wasn’t until it was over that Tarjei felt able to address the tragic matter of Mattias. After he’d been told the whole sorry tale, short as it was, because nobody knew what had really happened that day, he went to speak to his Aunt Liv and Uncle Dag.

“I must choose a new heir to the Ice People’s secret treasures,” he said distractedly. “And I’d thought ...”

“Ssh” Liv said quietly, even though she knew that everyone was working in the fields. “Don’t say the name out loud!”

“Why not?” Tarjei frowned. “What do you mean?”

Liv told him of the ominous conversation two years before when Tarald had received Tarjei’s letter and spoken openly of Mattias being chosen for the inheritance.

“We’ve always suspected that Kolgrim greatly resented Mattias being chosen to inherit the occult treasures instead of him. It’s just possible that this is the reason why the little boy’s disappeared. And while such misgivings are too terrible to be spoken of, I owe it to you to share them with you now.”