Margit Sandemo - The Ice People 16 - The Mandrake

Dan had nonetheless managed to grow into a good person. His proper, serious, conscientious side became apparent when he started his studies. That was when what he thought of as his new life began.

He went over to the mirror at Graastensholm. The room he was staying in had belonged to Liv, though he was not aware of it as Liv had been dead for fifty years. It was in semi-darkness and the mirror was dim and hazy with age, but with a little effort he was able to discern his features. His dark colouring he could see, of course, and the distinctive curves of his eyebrows, which he had inherited from his grandfather Dominic. But in the darkness he could not see the scar at the corner of his mouth, which gave him a permanently ironic look. He knew that that look irritated many people, and they would call him arrogant because they did not understand what had caused the sarcastic pull about his mouth. But that was not the way he was. He was anything but arrogant. Did they not see the uncertainty in his eyes? His need for friendship? Dan had many friends, but he was one of those incurable utopians who wish to be friends with every single soul on earth. An unfriendly remark made by some random individual could depress him for days.

He was actually very handsome, he concluded with a smile, in this subdued light that softened all his features. He was also sweet and cooperative. Though maybe not all the time, he had to admit. Ingrid, for example, had the ability to irritate him intensely with her irrational digressions of thought. Imagine having such a clever mind and then horsing around the way she sometimes did, teasing him by quickly blowing him a kiss or giving him a flirtatious glance. What was that all about, anyway? When discussing science one should stick to the topic! He was not the least bit interested in that sort of frivolous behaviour.

But goodness, had he really become so boring? No, it was just that he did not wish to become too familiar with Ingrid. Not her! A slight sense of guilt at the thought of his future wife back home in Sweden made him view Ingrid’s coquettishness with disapproving virtuousness.

The scar, yes ... he was a bit embarrassed at the way he had acquired it; it was, in fact, all Villemo’s fault. She had been boasting of all her achievements as one of the chosen among the Ice People. On that occasion she had claimed that all the members of the family possessed some sort of supernatural talent.

Did Dan also possess a supernatural talent?

Of course he did! It was just a matter of figuring out what it was. And so he had been taken in. Much later his grandfather Dominic told him that was not true at all, and it was obvious to Dan when he considered his own father, Tengel. For there was no one as down-to-earth and ordinary as Tengel.

But by then it had been too late. By then Dan had already managed to convince himself that he could make himself invisible, so he had stood waving his arms in front of one of the servant girls who had kindly asked the young master not to stand in her way like that. The disappointment had led him to make the claim that he could walk through closed doors. But he could not walk through closed doors, and the iron doorknob had ripped the corner of the little lad’s mouth, leaving a scar there for the rest of his days.

No, his father, Tengel, had no talents of that kind and neither did Dan – that was clear enough. But at least Dan was exceptionally smart. In fact, he was almost a genius. Tengel was a good family man and a competent landowner, but in the saga of the Ice People he would merely be an intermediate link between his parents and the next generation. This was strange, considering that both his parents, Villemo and Dominic, were so distinctive. But perhaps he had been a kind of counterbalance to them? Villemo and Dominic had been gifted in so many ways, perhaps the family had simply needed a small breathing space.

So the question now was whether Dan would be able to accomplish anything great. He had been born with good brains. So he would have to be sure to put them to good use. To be the pride and joy of his parents and grandparents.

Somewhere in the house a door creaked.

Dan looked out of the window but the only thing he saw was the quiet town with Graastensholm church tower rising through the light mist of the summer night.

He did not look in the direction of the forest.

He did not see who was prowling in the silence of the night.

The next morning, after Dan had left, Alv was paid a visit by Ulvhedin. The giant with the dramatic features looked strangely furtive. His eyes had a secretive glow, which made Alv feel slightly ill at ease.

“I don’t like the idea of the boy riding on his own,” Ulvhedin said and came straight to the heart of the matter. “I intend to catch up with him. To accompany him.”

“I see,” Alv smiled hesitantly. “And is Elisa willing to let you go?”

“She has granted me permission. But ...”

Alv waited. They were standing in the courtyard. The farmhands were busy at work around them, and newly washed clothes were fluttering in the wind.

As though he were attempting to postpone his departure, Ulvhedin asked, “What does your daughter think of Dan leaving?”

“Ingrid? I have not seen her today at all. It’s hard on her, of course. Yes, it is a shame that she won’t have more opportunities to use that mind of hers.”

“Yes, it truly is. Listening to the conversations she and Dan had made one feel so simple-minded.”

“No doubt about that.”

Finally Ulvhedin got to the point. “Alv, I wanted to ask you ... you know that I have never laid any claim to the magic potions, although they rightly belong to me. But now I am wondering whether you ...”

“You would like to take them with you when you follow Dan northwards? Wouldn’t that be a little hazardous?”

Ulvhedin’s glance grew sharp. “You forget that in my youth I was once on my way to the Valley of the Ice People. With the potions. Already back then I had enough strength to turn back. I have also managed to abstain from using them for many years. Don’t you think that I would ...?”

“Of course,” Alv broke in, because he didn’t care for the sparkle in Ulvhedin’s eyes. “The treasure is yours, as you say yourself, and I have no right to prohibit you from taking it. Please come to Linden Avenue ...”

“So, that’s where it is,” Ulvhedin smiled conspiratorially.

“That is where it belongs. In the house of Tengel the Good, protected by his spirit. But if you will forgive me, I would like to fetch it alone. It would be nice to be able to use the same spot as a hiding place should I be in need of one in the future.”

“Of course.”

They exchanged few words with one another on their way to Linden Avenue. Ulvhedin was strangely tense, as though there was an aura of energy surrounding him.

This will not end well, Alv thought. It’s probably a mistake to give him the treasure. But what can I do? It is his and when he’s in this kind of mood it’s practically impossible to deal with him. The only person who can handle him when he’s like this is Elisa and she’s not here right now.

Although Ulvhedin was only three years older than Alv, mentally they were light years apart. Ulvhedin was driven by forces the magnitude of which no one was really certain. He had lived a dignified life for many years, thanks in part to Elisa and Villemo, but primarily by virtue of his own willpower. He strove to be the new Tengel the Good, and that was what he had become. But now, at this very moment, Alv recalled Ulvhedin’s youth. How he had killed and killed, blind to all the grief and sorrow he was causing around him. Not for his life did Alv dare to make any objections when Ulvhedin looked the way he did today, with a scheming determination in his yellow eyes.