Margit Sandemo: The Ice People 27 - The Scandal

The Scandal

The Legend of the Ice People 27 - The Scandal

© Margit Sandemo 1985

© eBook in English: Jentas A/S, 2018

Series: The Legend of The Ice People

Title: The Scandal

Title number: 27

Original title: Synden har lång svans

Translator: Nina Sokol

© Translation: Jentas A/S

ISBN: 978-87-7107-639-4

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 estabished 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

“I woke up crying but I didn’t know what I was crying about.”

The doctor stared at the slender little figure with ill-concealed impatience. “Your dreams mean nothing. Do you have any pain anywhere?”

She looked at him with her big, dark, violet-blue eyes.

“No,” she said.

I do have pain, she thought. But not in my body.

The room was nice, airy and tidy, decorated in a white and green colour scheme. Outside could be heard the humming of the voices of other visitors to the health resort, and the trickling of water from the life-giving spring.

“Your relatives are concerned about you, Magdalena. I have promised to try to help you, but you are going to have to cooperate. All this talk of unpleasant dreams that you don’t recall is not at all helpful.”

“But there’s nothing else wrong with me!”

“Nonsense! You eat like a bird, you are as thin and pale as a wax doll, and you’re so nervous that you jump at the sound of a needle dropping to the floor. Did you say you are thirteen?”

“Yes, I’ve just celebrated my birthday.”

“Hmm. We’d better bleed you, and you are to drink the spring water. Six glasses a day. Now you can go to your uncle, the consul. He is also very concerned. It was kind of him to bring you here, you should always remember that!”

The doctor ended the consultation with a friendly smile. That is to say, the corners of his mouth went up for a moment. Magdalena thought he resembled a cat silently meowing.

She went out onto the wide, sunny staircase. Outside on the lawn, clusters of visitors to the resort sat on neat chairs around neat tables. Magdalena spotted her wealthy uncle at one of the tables and approached him hesitantly. He was sitting in the company of a woman, and she didn’t want to disturb them.

But her Uncle Julius caught sight of her. Lifting his hand from the silver cap of his walking stick he beckoned her to join them.

“Yes, dear lady,” he said to the major’s wife, “this is little Magdalena.”

Magdalena curtsied to the beautiful but stern-looking woman.

“Dear child,” said the major’s wife, in an overtly friendly voice. “How sweet it is of your uncle to bring you to Ramlösa Sanatorium. It must be so wonderful for you!”

Magdalena couldn’t see what was so wonderful about having to escort her uncle back and forth along the gravel paths, listening to his huffing and puffing and the other sounds he made after eating too much. There were no children for her to talk to here, except for an unpleasant little six-year-old who was always following her around and tugging at her long dark hair, or trying to throw mud at her chalk-white pantalettes.

Otherwise there were only elderly people, suffering from ailments both real and imagined. And the conversations at the dinner table mostly dealt with toxins or bloated stomachs or osteoporosis or miracle diets to combat consumption, and the ladies would swoon in their tightly laced dresses, which made it almost impossible for them to eat, and the men would steal cups of punch on the sly even though they weren’t allowed to. Magdalena wasn’t allowed to say anything, only to the doctor, whom she didn’t care for, so she withdrew completely into herself in this very distinguished setting.

But she had been doing the same thing at home lately. Ever since ... well, ever since what? Since when? She couldn’t eat anything and didn’t dare sleep.

“Oh, I left my parasol on the veranda,” said the major’s wife.

“Magdalena will fetch it,” said Uncle Julius.

Magdalena was already on her feet, as she knew that her uncle would ask her to get it. No, he would order her, take it for granted that she would.

The building with its white veranda was beautiful. It was yellow and surrounded by lilac bushes with heavy, blue-violet flower clusters, which went beautifully with the colour of the walls. Everything was so nice here! And deadly dull.

As she was on her way down from the veranda with the pink parasol in her hand, she heard a cry for help.

Round the bend on the path leading to the steps came an odd-looking equipage.

An elderly man was clinging to his wheelchair, emitting small, helpless cries from his gaping, toothless mouth as his chair was pushed along at a frantic pace by a boy of about Magdalena’s age. The happy boy’s face shone with excitement at the speed, and after an over-confident turn the chair screeched to a halt in front of the steps. The man tipped forward at what looked like an alarming angle, but the boy straightened him up effortlessly. The old man was so shocked that all he could do was whisper what was supposed to be a scolding.

“My pleasure,” said the boy with a smile. “I bet you’ve never been driven that fast before!”

The doctor came rushing out to welcome the old man, giving the boy a series of reproachful looks at the same time. Some portly, well-fed nurses came storming out as well, cackling and crossing themselves.