Witch-Hunt

by Margit Sandemo

  Silje was feeling uncomfortable and undignified. She should have worn a bonnet or hat, she thought, to show she was a respectable married woman. It would have boosted her confidence – but it would also have been a conceit, because she hated covering her hair, not least because Tengel was so fond of it.

  ‘How many people know that I am his mother?’ wondered Charlotte.

  ‘Only Tengel and I. There was one other – he who had found you out from the monogram ”C.M.” and the crest – but he never knew why we were searching for you. We think he is dead now. He was kin of the Ice People and his farm was one of the first to be put to the torch.’ Silje’s throat tightened and she felt for a moment that she would choke.

  Breathing deeply she stared out of the window, blinking and swallowing hard, until she felt relaxed again.

  Leaning across the carriage interior towards Silje and speaking in a gentle tone, the elderly Baroness asked, ‘Is your husband dependable? When Silje gave her a questioning glance she added hurriedly, ‘As a worker, I mean.’

  ‘Oh, yes, that he is! He enjoys working for his family. But he excels in the art of healing, something he cannot practice openly. You understand why, of course.’

  ‘If only he could do something for my gout! But that’s no doubt impossible. Those fools for healers want only to let my blood, leaving me weak and miserable.’

  ‘My husband does not let blood. He says it is worthless.’

  ‘He sounds like a sensible man!’

  ‘Yes, he is – oh look! I think we have reached the place.’

  Silje enjoyed referring to Tengel as ‘my husband’. Whenever she spoke of him in this way it made her feel that the bond between them was even stronger and that it was there for all the world to see. She could not help thinking that the Church might have objections to holy vows being sworn before a chieftain of the Ice People – yet nonetheless she was sure there were very few marriages more sincere than theirs.

  Silje directed them off the road and down an overgrown forest track. Eventually the carriage could go no further so they ordered the driver to wait. The three women then carried the baskets and the small trunk filled with food and clothes deeper into the forest. The genteel ladies, Silje noticed, lifted their skirts and stepped warily over every single blade of grass!

  Then Silje stopped abruptly in her tracks and they all paused and stood on a slope looking down into the clearing where the hut had just become visible. After a moment Silje made to carry on, but the Baroness held her back with an admonishing glance: the two ladies wanted to relish and ponder the scene first.

  Tengel, his back to them, was squatting in front of Dag helping him to string a small bow. Sol and Liv were seated on the grass playing with the large wooden doll, chattering all the while in shrill voices. Tengel stood up and took hold of Dag’s hose leggings – they were always slipping down – and tugged them up properly. Tears welled up in the eyes of both ladies.

  ‘What a wonderful man,’ whispered the Baroness. ‘If only my husband had shown such love to our children even once! For that I could have forgiven him many things. You are lucky, Silje.’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ she replied. ‘And with each year I love and respect him all the more.’

  Then Liv caught sight of them on the slope and jumped quickly to her feet. ‘Mama!’ she shrieked, and at once the three children came rushing headlong towards them – but they stopped timidly as they saw the two strangers.

  The ladies stepped closer to the children. Charlotte could not take her eyes off the boy. She swallowed several times, then whispered almost inaudibly, ‘He is so beautiful!’

  ‘Well, I love all my grandchildren, no one must think otherwise,’ muttered the Baroness. ‘But normally nobody can call any Meiden ”beautiful”! Yet here is an exception – an enchanting boy!’

  ‘And he has the look of an intellectual,’ added Charlotte still unable to turn her gaze away.

  ‘Children, come and greet our guests,’ said Silje anxious that they should not fail this baptism of tire.

  She need not have worried, however. Although they were dumbstruck by the sight of these elegantly dressed ladies, all three children came dutifully forward. The girls both curtseyed so deeply that they wobbled and nearly fell backwards onto the ground. In his turn Dag bowed so low that his blond hair brushed the grass. Seeing this Charlotte was overcome with emotion and she turned away to fumble for the handkerchief in her embroidered purse.

  Her mother was studying the older of the two girls with growing disquiet. She knew at once that this was Sol, the fated one. She did indeed have an unusual countenance thought the Baroness. What eyes she had! A strikingly pretty girl – but – but...!

  The other girl Liv, was the image of her mother. Without thinking, the Baroness smiled warmly and sincerely at the girls and they cautiously smiled back at her. Finally, as Tengel approached, the ladies looked up to greet him. They both gasped and instinctively took a step back. The ‘wolf-man’, thought Charlotte and felt herself begin to tremble; those sparkling amber eyes, the thick jet-black hair and powerful mouth – and those shoulders, so broad, so immense that they could not be human. Yet most frightening of all were his eyes – they seemed, thought Charlotte, to search into one’s very soul! Little Sol’s eyes were just the same – neither of them could ever have denied their lineage!

  What the ladies could not have known was that Sol’s unusual features were not apparent when she was born – they had developed little by little over the years. Unlike Tengel, she was not in the least frightening to look at and showed every sign of becoming a strikingly beautiful young woman. But there was no one alive who could look into her eyes for more than a moment.

  Yet this man Tengel, he was very extraordinary. He was not ugly – quite the contrary! It was rather that he seemed so unnatural! To think that tiny, gentle Silje had married him and they’d had a child as well! It hardly bore thinking about! For a fleeting moment Charlotte wondered what it would be like to let this man – this demon – have his way with her. She would never for one second have dared, of course, but the image sent a warm feeling through her. At the same time she felt a pang of remorse and longing. She did not desire him – no, at least not like that – but the thought of him with a woman fascinated her. Anyone who could make such an impression on a blue-blooded creature like her must surely radiate incredible sensuality!

  Silje had immediately thrown her arms around him. Standing on her toes pressed against him, she barely reached his chin. Although his embrace was swift, the love that shone in his eyes was something the ladies could not ignore and their hearts fluttered. Letting go of her husband, Silje announced, ‘Tengel, may I present the Baroness Meiden and her daughter Charlotte!’

  Unable to hide a flash of surprise, he instantly regained his poise and greeted the ladies respectfully. The Baroness, who had also been transfixed by Tengel’s appearance, was the first to find words of greeting, although she had been trying without success to decide exactly how one should address this unlikely figure.

  ‘We … have with us some things ... for the children,’ she stammered, casting a rueful glance down at the forsaken hut. ‘And we should like to converse with you and your delightful wife. We have taken young Silje to our hearts.’

  Tengel was unsure what to say – this had all come upon him so suddenly. What if they wanted to take little Dag from them? But, no! Her words did not suggest that. ‘Yes, but of course.’ he answered formally.

  The sound of his deep, gruff voice again took the two ladies by surprise but they quickly recovered and busied themselves unpacking all the things they had brought with them. Sol gave a very womanly squeal of joy when the Baroness held a dress up in front of her to see whether it would suit or not. ‘It appears to be a perfect lit,’ the lady declared. ‘Try it on, little one, and if it fits – then it is yours!’

  Without a second thought Sol allowed her own ragged dress to fall to the ground where she stood and began wriggling and pulling impatien
tly at the pearly-studded gown as the Baroness helped her to fasten it. ‘Merete and Inger would just love to see this!’ Sol shouted out loudly without thinking.

  Silje looked at Tengel and there was fear showing on her face. She felt a lump in her throat. Merete and Inger were just two of the children in the Valley! Oh, God! So much pain! The soothing touch of Tengel’s hand comforted her a little and eased the sorrow.

  Charlotte had been helping Dag to try on a pair of trousers and a jacket. She delighted at his touch, his warm flesh, and it took a superhuman effort for her to restrain herself from hugging him and holding on to him forever. While battling with these emotions Charlotte suddenly caught sight of Liv standing wide-eyed, watching whilst the other two children were being dressed in such finery. ‘Here, Liv,’ she said hurriedly, ‘we have not forgotten you!’

  ‘Ooh!’ gasped Sol when she saw the dark green velvet ball gown Charlotte held up for Liv to see. ‘I wish I was still three years old!’

  Charlotte and the Baroness laughed out loud and tears of joy ran down their faces. It felt as though the Christmas festivities had already begun. As she watched all this, Silje was growing concerned about how the children would be able to walk dressed in all their wonderful new attire.

  Luckily, however, there were more sensible, day-to-day clothes as well and this pleased her and the children.

  ‘Mother,’ Dag whispered when nobody was in earshot, that lady hugged me and said. “Forgive me.” Why did she do that?’

  ‘It might have been because she thought she had scratched you,’ Silje whispered back.

  Eventually the excitement subsided and the Baroness looked around the clearing. ‘We should sit and have a conversation but ...’

  ‘No, there is not much here to sit upon,’ smiled Tengel. Both ladies understood even better than before why Silje adored him. And inside the shelter is worse – mould and damp everywhere – and if you stand up straight your head hits the roof!’

  ‘And the children must be hungry,’ said Charlotte. Why was she finding it so difficult to talk easily and naturally with this man? ‘Can we not take a drive in the carriage?’

  ‘Oh, yes! A splendid idea!’ agreed her mother. ‘And we can talk more comfortably while we drive.’

  Little Liv steadfastly refused to take off her fine new dress. She screamed loudly in protest until Charlotte told her that, as they were about to travel in a magnificent carriage, it was only fair that she and the others should be dressed for the occasion.

  ‘I pray she won’t want to sleep in it as well!’ laughed Silje, watching them all walk off in their finery.

  The elegant vehicle waiting for them provoked still more screams of wonder and excitement from the children. They were perched up front with the coachman, who handed out food while earnestly discussing the workings of the contraption with Dag, who was intent to learn all about it.

  Silje had managed to save a piece of chicken and some wine for Tengel. This he had quickly consumed, out of sight in the shelter, while the ladies were putting things back in the trunk before they set off back to the carriage. She did not want him taking part in serious discussions on an empty stomach! Hunger never helped the mind to work well. Perhaps, with everything going on, the noble ladies had simply forgotten that her man was also hungry. Or did they think that warlocks had no need of food?

  The carriage drove very slowly down the beautiful country road. The Meiden ladies had felt ill at ease to begin with, trying so hard to look anywhere other than at this terrible demon who sat so close to them. Indeed, he was so close that the air around them seemed to pulsate with his presence. However, after realising that he felt no less awkward than they did, their voices became more relaxed and normal conversation began to be exchanged.

  ‘l would ask you to hear first what I have to say,’ said the Baroness in a friendly tone. ‘Charlotte and I have a suggestion to put to you, one that will enable the boy to remain with you, yet also allowing Charlotte to be close to him. While my husband lives, she will not disclose her identity to the boy. After his death we shall discuss the matter anew. We spoke about this long into the night and we are agreed – the only question that remains is whether it is acceptable to you?’

  ‘There is one other matter,’ said Tengel. ‘I must be sure of one thing. You must not believe that you have been deceived in any way. Are you completely satisfied the boy is yours? What if this is but some trickery intended to cheat you – to force upon you some stranger’s child for our own gain?’

  ‘We are in no doubt that he is a Meiden,’ said the Baroness. ‘Silje told us that he shared Charlotte’s features. I would say that he is an exceptionally comely version of the young Charlotte. We are satisfied!’

  ‘Very good. Then we can continue talking.’

  ‘It so happens that Charlotte has never been happy with life in Trondheim. We own a château and land in the county of Akershus that was intended as dowry for Charlotte when she took a husband. A small estate cottage lies not far from the main house and this, if you accept, can be yours. In which case Charlotte will take up residence in the château with her domestic staff. Your duty while living in the cottage would be to take charge of all the estate’s outbuildings and barns, for Charlotte has little knowledge of such matters.’

  Silje and Tengel reacted with astonishment. For a long time they could only look at each other and the Baroness in an amazed silence.

  ‘Do tell, Master Tengel, are the tales of the Ice People told throughout Norway?’ asked the Baroness at last to break the silence.

  Tengel had to try hard to focus his mind on the mundane question through his amazement. ‘Uhm! No, I don’t believe they are. As far as I know, they are only known here in Trondelag.’

  After another long silence Silje found her voice and looked directly across the carriage at Charlotte’s mother. ‘What about your husband, the Baron, Charlotte’s father? What will he have to say about our possible agreement?’

  ‘There is nothing he can say about the Akershus estates. They formed part of my inheritance from my father,’ replied the Baroness.

  Silje and Tengel were still trying to assimilate the enormity of what had been offered and both of the remained speechless. Looking at each other they began to smile bemusedly as though wondering whether they were dreaming.

  ‘Well then? What do you say about the offer?’

  Silje and Tengel continued to stare at each other. Her expression was urging him to accept, and when he turned again towards the ladies, they saw his frightening face had been completely transformed by a broad and generous smile. ‘I would be a fool indeed to refuse an offer such as this! We are most grateful.’

  Charlotte breathed a loud sigh of relief and a smile lit up her face too, as she looked expectantly at her mother. ‘On the contrary, it is we who are grateful,’ said the Baroness. Then after nodding once to indicate her satisfaction with the outcome, she adopted a more businesslike tone. ‘It seems we have an accord! However, it is not intended that either of you shall perform servants’ duties on the estate. Silje is not a person for such chores and if I may be so bold, you Tengel are above manual work. At first you will be there as estate foreman, but we will watch how things progress. There are a great many workmen who will answer to you alone and you yourself will decide when and where you need to lend a hand.’

  Tengel raised both hands to cover his face for a second then, removing them again, he said, ‘This is all beyond belief! Why only yesterday our future looked bleak and without hope. But today everything has changed! And all this because Silje decided that she should go to Trondheim. When she left I had no idea what she planned to do!’

  ‘Silje is a strong woman,’ said the Baroness thoughtfully.

  ‘I have never doubted it,’ agreed Tengel.

  ‘I’m not strong at all,’ Silje interrupted. ‘I weep at the slightest thing.’

  ‘Tears have nothing to do with weakness,’ Tengel assured her. ‘You weep for a while, but then grit your tee
th and set to once more. You refuse to give in – and your devotion to all living things. everything you see around you, gives you that strength.’

  The Baroness nodded her agreement. ‘That is exactly what I meant.’

  On the way back towards the hut, before they left Tengel and Silje to go their separate ways, the Baroness asked Tengel for advice on curing her gout. ‘Young Silje tells me that you can heal people,’ she prompted.

  Hesitating, Tengel asked, ‘Whereabouts is the gout? In every part of your body?’

  ‘No, it is my shoulders that are most troublesome, and sometimes my arms. I ache badly at night and have trouble sleeping.’

  He paused. ‘If it is only in the shoulders then I can help you straight away, Your Grace. It’s just that ...’

  ‘Oh! Then please do so. Please!’

  ‘I don’t really know,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘I would have to ask you to uncover them and that would be unseemly.’

  The Baroness was in two minds about this. ‘Mother, you must do it,’ urged Charlotte. ‘Besides, you have attended soirées décolletées many times!’

  ‘Ah, but I was younger then. No longer is my complexion so youthful and attractive. And here in this cramped carriage – well, it seems almost indecent somehow!’

  Silje understood how she felt. Women always reacted this way to the potent effects of Tengel’s dominant masculinity. Tengel waited. He would not influence any decision. What’s more he had enough to think about, as the plans this noblewoman had surprised him with tumbled around inside his head. What did he know about running a farm? Had he taken on more than he could cope with?

  Yet it would be impossible for him to decline this offer. It meant his family would be safe; Sol and he would be far away from the dangers that threatened them in Trondelag; there would be food and shelter for Silje and the little ones – and above all else they would have their own home again. These ladies had asked him many questions. What did he know about the economics of running a farm? How many people should work in a barn? How would he organise the animal husbandry. What did he know about types of crops, seasonal changes and their rotation in order to keep the earth fertile. He had given the best answers he could, but otherwise he could only hope that they were content with his inadequate insights.