Margit Sandemo: The Ice People 12 - Yearning

Yearning

The Legend of The Ice People 12 - Yearning

© Margit Sandemo 1982

© eBook in English: Jentas A/S, 2017

Series: The Legend of The Ice People

Title: Yearning

Title number: 12

Original title: Feber i blodet

Translator: Anna Halager

© Translation: Jentas A/S

ISBN: 978-87-7107-495-6

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchase.

All contracts and agreements regarding the work, translation, editing, and layout are owned by Jentas A/S.

Acknowledgement

The legend of the Ice People is dedicated with love and gratitude to the memory of my dear late husband Asbjorn Sandemo, who made my life a fairy tale.

Margit Sandemo

The Ice People - Reviews

‘Margit Sandemo is, simply, quite wonderful.’

- The Guardian

‘Full of convincing characters, well established in time and place, and enlightening ... will get your eyes popping, and quite possibly groins twitching ... these are graphic novels without pictures ... I want to know what happens next.’

- The Times

‘A mixure of myth and legend interwoven with historical events, this is imaginative creation that involves the reader from the first page to the last.’

- Historical Novels Review

‘Loved by the masses, the prolific Margit Sandemo has written over 172 novels to date and is Scandinavia's most widely read author...’

- Scanorama magazine

The Legend of the Ice People

The legend of the Ice People begins many centuries ago with Tengel the Evil. He was ruthless and greedy, and there was only one way to get everything that he wanted: he had to make a pact with the devil. He travelled far into the wilderness and summoned the devil with a magic potion that he had brewed in a pot. Tengel the Evil gained unlimited wealth and power but in exchange, he cursed his own family. One of his descendants in every generation would serve the Devil with evil deeds. When it was done, Tengel buried the pot. If anyone found it, the curse would be broken.

So the curse was passed down through Tengel’s descendants, the Ice People. One person in every generation was born with yellow cat’s eyes, a sign of the curse, and magical powers which they used to serve the Devil. One day the most powerful of all the cursed Ice People would be born.

This is what the legend says. Nobody knows whether it is true, but in the 16th century, a cursed child of the Ice People was born. He tried to turn evil into good, which is why they called him Tengel the Good. This legend is about his family. Actually, it is mostly about the women in his family – the women who held the fate of the Ice People in their hands.

Chapter 1

It was the traditional burning of the winter’s dead wood which at long last got Villemo on her feet again.

She awoke from the mental torpor which she’d been in since she had returned from her imprisonment. Her sorrow at being forced to give up Dominic had sapped her strength to such an extent that it almost seemed she would never get well. She suffered one bad cold after the other, with pain in her ears and in her joints, so Gabriella and Kaleb felt they didn’t have a moment’s peace. Their normally happy, determined daughter was lying there, deathly pale and motionless with a distant gaze that seemed to be staring into something unknown. She gave them a smile, thanking them for their concern. She had a terribly guilty conscience because she was causing them so much worry. But even just sitting up in bed made her dizzy.

However, one day she saw the sky turn red and yellow and orange, with heavy, blue clouds of smoke billowing from the fields. Villemo was curious and without realising it, she had actually got out of bed, and was suddenly standing by the window, looking out. Her hands held desperately onto the window frame because she was swaying back and forth, but at least she was standing on her own two feet!

Outside a marvellous scene was unfolding. Flames were dancing everywhere, in small bonfires and in long rows of fire along the fields. Villemo was lost in her thoughts.

‘A fire is burning’, she thought dreamily. ‘And the fire is already spreading much faster than we can see. Underneath, deep in the soil, it glows and smoulders with a secret power that sends warmth down into the layers of the earth. The suppressed, invisible embers of the fire is like ... is like my love. It can never be quelled. It devours me slowly; it’s dim, but fervent and irrepressible.’

In the light of the flames outside, with her thin arms stretched out to help her keep her balance, Villemo finally came alive.

“I love you, Dominic,” she said aloud. The glow from the fire reflected in her eyes so that they lit up like a wild animal’s. “I love you, I want you, and I’ll have you no matter what! Nothing and nobody can separate us, Dominic. Now I’ve got something to live for!”

She had no more strength and she slowly slid to the floor. But her yearning to return to life was so powerful that she crept on all fours over to her bed and crawled between the sheets. There she lay, exhausted but happy. Now she had a purpose in life, and from that moment on, her urge to be close to Dominic ran like a fever in her blood.

The spring of 1675 passed pleasantly in the Parish of Graastensholm. Having caused her loved ones so much worry in recent years, Villemo felt great remorse and a new diligence. She worked like a horse on the farm, almost wearing herself out in her eagerness to be of some use. She spent her spare time studying because she had always been bright, even though as a women she would never be allowed to put it to much use. Kaleb and Gabriella were baffled and elated. She also seemed happy, carefree and jolly.

Only the walls in her room knew what had actually transpired. They had witnessed her sorrow and yearning when she had been sick. They had seen her, sleepless and wistful during the lonely nights, and seen her tears that dropped onto the letters she had secretly sent every time the post wagon drove eastward, bound for Sweden.

She had also received answers. She had arranged for a servant girl to give her the letters from Dominic, so that her parents didn’t discover how many she had actually received. Letters that exuded love and longing, overflowing with confessions and small, funny anecdotes from the Court. Dominic had always had a slightly cruel pen when describing the petty, ridiculous, overdressed dandies and cackling hens that surrounded the king. Villemo had tried to respond in the same register, but wasn’t up to it. She had tried to conceal her yearning, but she hadn’t succeeded all that much.

But now everything had changed. Now there was something restless in everything that Villemo did. She was driven on by a great determination. She planned to defy everyone and everything – Dominic was to be hers.

Dominic didn’t know this, of course. She couldn’t bring herself to write something like that. Nevertheless, he wrote to tell her that he was happy that she had regained her zest for life and that it seemed she had found a sense of purpose in her life. Well, you could say that, couldn’t you? ...

Denmark and Sweden never kept peace for very long. Denmark held a grudge about the old Swedish territories, Scania and Blekinge and so on, which they had lost.

And Sweden had terrible problems with her possessions on the other side of the Baltic Sea. In June, a Swedish army was beaten by the Electorate of Brandenburg. Denmark sent troops to her allies, Brandenburg, the Netherlands and the German Empire, and was successful in re-conquering Gottorp. In October, the Swedes first lost West Pomerania, then Wismar.