Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 19 - Dragon´s Teeth

Sölve had seen Göran Oxenstierna’s weaponry collection for the first time. There had been, among other things, a pistol with silver mounts that deeply fascinated him. “Imagine owning that,” he had sighed, and the others had smiled at the twelve-year-old’s eagerness.

He thought about that pistol with longing for the rest of the evening. He dreamed about it at night. But when he woke the next morning, to his great surprise there was the pistol lying on the table in his bedroom.

He knew that he would never have received it as a gift – it was much too precious to Göran Oxenstierna. There were too many memories associated with it.

Sölve’s cheeks were burning. Who? And how?

The bedroom window was open, but who would have willingly waded through the vicious stinging nettles below? There weren’t any tracks to be seen either.

Sölve was an honest soul, at least while he was still a child. So he resolutely picked up the pistol and ran with it up to Skenäs.

He knew he couldn’t simply put it back in its place – he was not allowed to enter the premises without permission. Instead, with a trembling voice, he asked to speak to Major-General Göran Oxenstierna, Johan Gabriel’s father.

He was admitted. Agitatedly, he explained how he had just discovered the pistol on his bedside table, and insisted that it had not been there the evening before.

“I don’t understand this,” said Göran Oxenstierna, puzzled. “No one has been in here since I replaced the pistol in the case. The window is open, of course, but this is the second floor!”

“I don’t understand it either,” Sölve said. “Because who would climb into my room in the middle of the night? At any rate, I want to return it to you now. Please don’t think badly of me because of this! I am not a thief.”

“I know that, Sölve. Someone must have wanted to play a trick on you. Or wanted you to be accused of stealing. I will examine the case further.”

But they never did find an explanation for it. Not until Sölve had turned sixteen and Johan Gabriel’s infatuation with Themir – Anna Kinvall – had reached its peak.

Inspired by Johan Gabriel’s love story, Sölve himself found that he was starting to become infatuated with one of the servant girls at Skenäs. She was practically a grown woman; her name was Stina, and she was robust and not particularly maidenly.

Sölve, puberty raging through his body, started having forbidden, exciting dreams about her at night.

One day he saw her doing the laundry down by the bridge. She had rolled up her skirt, so that her lush thighs shone in the sun. That night Sölve had some pretty intense fantasies. He imagined her thighs before him, water droplets glistening on her shimmering skin; he imagined that he was stroking them with his hands. Not down towards her knees – no, upwards to unknown secret places.

“Stina,” he whispered. “Stina, come to me! I want you!”

A little while later his door creaked. Someone was coming in. Sölve sat up in surprise.

It was Stina.

She gave him an insecure smile in the light summer evening. With fumbling fingers she began to remove her apron.

Sölve, who had just been staring, came to with a start.

“Yes, well, something told me that the young master wanted me to come,” she said, giggling shyly.

“How did you know?” he asked happily. “How did you know?”

But at that moment his brain was unable to focus on how it had actually happened. At that point he consisted purely of his senses. Vibrating senses that were wide awake. Because she seemed so utterly willing, he dared to carefully lift her sturdy skirt, which was clearly homespun. He glanced at her wrists and ankles ... Oh, heavens, how little you mean to me now, he was thinking rather blasphemously. Nothing could be more gorgeous than this particular sight.

His idol had, of course, always been Johan Gabriel. But he did not know exactly how carnal Johan Gabriel’s relationship with Anna Kinvall was. Sölve had his suspicions that the infatuation remained chaste, but he was not entirely certain; and if not it would probably have been Anna – that is, Johan Gabriel’s Themir – who would have taken the initiative, since she was older and more experienced. Sölve wanted to do everything that Johan Gabriel did. And he imagined that Anna Kinvall had led the noble Johan Gabriel astray. They met every now and then, Sölve knew. Down by the river where no one could see them. In the park or in the woods. At this moment, Sölve closed his eyes to the fact that Johan Gabriel would never violate a woman’s chastity: his rendezvous with Anna Kinvall most likely consisted of high-minded strolls during which Johan Gabriel would speak to her seriously and worship her like the Madonna.

No, at this particular moment Sölve wanted to believe that his friend had gone all the way with Anna’s full consent.

In which case, Sölve could do the same thing!

His hand had carefully pulled the skirt up even higher. Stina had nice legs, even though they were stout and nubbly. But it was most probably his touch that was making her skin contract. It felt wonderful to close his hand around her knee: it made him tremble; it felt so terribly wonderful.

Stina sat silently on the side of his bed. Her breathing was tremulous, and she was smiling.

“So, the young man would like to taste a bit of adult life,” she finally whispered when he daringly wrapped his hand around her thigh.

Sölve was unable to answer that. His pulse was throbbing in his throat and his head was spinning. His body was in a commotion, it was aching and pounding; he felt that he was getting wet down there, but it was too dark for him to see. But Stina had done this before. And this youth, who was still wet behind the ears, was a little too slow for her. Not that she would ever understand what exactly got into her when she had barged into his bedroom! Sölve Lind of the Ice People belonged to one of the finer families on the estate. Not as fine as the Oxenstiernas, the master and mistress, of course. But the Linds of the Ice People were never considered to be part of the servant class: they had a position of their own. It was said that the father, Daniel, was a researcher in addition to being Göran Oxenstierna’s adjutant. And his wife was terribly dignified!

But they were away from home at the moment. And the young man’s sister, Ingela, was travelling with her parents.

Perhaps that was why Stina had dared to go into Sölve’s room? No, what rubbish! What would she want with a puppy like him when she could have any grown man she desired? But this was what she had wanted! Anyway, perhaps it was fun to taste a young cock every now and then.

But goodness how that young boy fumbled. It was clear to her that she would have to help him a little.

Without much fuss she lifted her skirts all the way up to her waist. Of course, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath because it was summertime and hot. The poor boy – how he gasped. She hoped he wouldn’t faint.

No, Sölve did not faint. But the blood was throbbing in his lips and sizzling in his body, and his eyes flickered as he stared at the dark triangle before him. Without his being fully aware of it, his hand had closed itself around that wonderful place with such intensity that she became angry, but only for a second. Sölve, who was very confused, heard her whisper, “Not so fast, my little friend. Shouldn’t you undress us first?”

He woke out of his stupor and stared at her lying there as if she had been thrown down on the bed.

“Yes, yes, of course,” he stammered.

Pulling himself together, he managed to focus on untying her blouse, but once again he fell into a trance over the beauties that were now revealed to him. Poor Sölve, no sooner had he touched them than his first attempt at lovemaking was completely over!