Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 08 - Under Suspicion

He remembered many years ago when the young people in the parish would meet during the bright midsummer evenings to dance in the forest. Hilde was a silent figure who kept close to the trees – at a far distance from the happy, noisy throng. You only saw the Night Man’s daughter as a silhouette. If anybody got too close and tried to tease or mock her, she would immediately disappear into the shadows of the forest, not to return for the rest of that night. Just like everybody else in those days, he had laughed at the strange girl. He felt a pang of guilt. He was older now and understood more.

The whole village lay calmly in the grey light down below. The church looked like it was in a slightly tumbledown state. The vicar had mentioned that the church tower needed to be repaired this year, but the congregation had turned a deaf ear because the farmers couldn’t afford to pay for anything like that. However, sooner or later the job had to be done if the tower was not to collapse.

He caught a glimpse of the roof on Gabriella and Kaleb’s farm. They and Eli now had an orphanage there. They had never had children other than their one stillborn daughter, but they had adopted Eli and no parents could have been more devoted to their child than they were to her. It never occurred to anybody any more that she was not their biological daughter. They were a happy little family. Andreas smiled to himself. There were exactly ten years between them down there – Kaleb was 36, Gabriella 26, and Eli 16. If the child had lived, it would have been 6 years old. But it was a good thing that it was stillborn – it would not have been easy for Kaleb and Gabriella to have to bring up one of the evil creatures of the Ice People.

Andreas was now confident that he would bear healthy children so perhaps it was about time that he had some... But that meant he would have to find a wife. Oh, well, he was not in such a great hurry after all.

Andreas took a deep breath and got up. All his joints creaked. It was time for him to get started once more if he was to be finished by supper.

He continued working for a long time. ‘I think I can manage another furrow,’ he thought. ‘And another one. And one more ...’

The rainy clouds, which touched the top of the fir trees, had already turned into a dark twilight hue as he ploughed the last patch between some boulders, turning over some fresh turf.

The plough struck a soft obstacle.

He tried again.

No, something was stopping it. It wasn’t a stone and it wasn’t a root either. It was softer. Andreas bent down and removed a lump of earth. It followed willingly as if it had been placed there recently. Under his feet he glimpsed something that looked like a piece of material. It was dark, thick, homespun.

He removed a tuft of grass and a rotting face looked up at him.

Andreas jerked backwards. He feverishly got the plough free of the soil, lifted it over the macabre find and drove on the horse. When they reached the edge of the small plot, he unharnessed the plough, jumped on the horse and rode home, bareback.

He knew perfectly well that whatever it was he had found, it was not lying in consecrated ground. Sinners were buried outside the churchyard wall, but that hadn’t happened for a long time. This couldn’t be an accident - this was something covert.

This was as far as he wanted to think before he could talk to someone about it. What a shame that Judge Dag Meiden had passed away! Now he would have to contact the bailiff, and he was not the world’s most pleasant man. What about Kaleb? He knew a lot about law and order! Yes, he would also summon Kaleb. That was a comforting thought.

At the farm, they saw Andreas riding as if the Devil were at his heels and they went out to meet him. Grandpa Are, 68, but upright like a young man, Brand, his Dad, calm and broad-shouldered, with a hint of grey hair, and sweet Matilda, his Mum. She had always been stocky and she’d not gotten thinner as the years went by... They looked enquiringly at Andreas as he jumped off the horse.

“But Andreas,” said Brand. “You’re quite grey in the face. What’s the matter?”

“I’ve found a corpse in the soil up there. We’d better summon the bailiff immediately so he won’t accuse us of keeping a secret.”

“I’ll send the stable lad immediately.”

The bailiff lived in the neighbouring town, but it wasn’t far.

“Please bring Kaleb as well,” said Andreas.

“Of course.”

Soon the whole farm knew about the discovery and people ran in small clusters up towards the forest path, some curious, others absolutely intent on not looking – but they still wanted to go along! Andreas halted the rushing throng up by the forest.

“You mustn’t walk on the ploughed patch. You might tread on something and then you’ll be in trouble with the bailiff,” he shouted. “If you must see, do so from the ridge there!”

Brand and Are looked at the corpse.

“Yuck,” said Brand. “I can understand why you were shocked, Andreas.”

“Look at the pieces of turf, all neatly arranged around it,” said Are, ”This was done in the spring!”

Now the servants had arrived, regarding the find with horrible delight. Some left quickly, pretty pale in the face.

“Who could it be?” asked the stable lad.

“It looks like a woman,” answered Andreas. “Has anybody gone missing in the parish?”

Nobody had heard anything.

Are was still looking intently at the grass. He strode carefully across the tufts.

“Look,” he whispered, and everyone listened excitedly.

“Can you see how the grass is divided into patches? Each patch is bound to be a piece of turf that’s been put in place, right?”

They nodded. That was easy to grasp.

“And it’s obvious that it was done this year. But then look at this!”

They all looked in the direction he was pointing. Even fresher patches could be seen next to the deceased.

“Would anybody care to move them?”

Nobody showed any interest in doing so.

Another man, who stood a bit closer to the forest, pointed eagerly. “It looks as if there are square patches here as well!”

Are and Brand walked over. The man was right – you could see faint traces of square patches in a long row here and there.

“We’d better wait for the bailiff,” decided Andreas. “Will somebody please get hold of Mattias?”

Everybody knew that Mattias was Doctor Meiden. Two servant girls set off, relieved to get away from all the unpleasantness.

“Please find the vicar as well,” shouted Brand after them. “We must consecrate this place before some spirit or other gets the better of us,” he explained to the others.

Suddenly several of the women remembered that the dinner was probably getting burnt, that the cows were waiting to be milked, and so on. A couple of the men also disappeared.

Mattias was the first to arrive. With his usual empathy and gentle gaze, he had a calming effect on everybody. He wouldn’t touch anything until the bailiff had given him permission to do so, but he agreed with the others. It was a woman, not very young as you could see some strands of grey hair, but well-dressed in the very best homespun fabric.

But he did something the others had hesitated to do. He removed a piece of turf next to the woman’s head. Several people in the crowd covered their faces with their hands then peeped between their fingers.

It was, as they had feared, another corpse. A woman who had been killed quite recently. Insects dashed away from the almost unharmed face when the piece of grass was removed. This woman was somewhat younger. She hadn’t been handsome and she appeared to be in her mid-thirties. Her hair was still in neat waves.

Nobody said anything. They just lifted their eyes towards the two other spots where you could see squares in the grass.