His gaze followed her every move – what she did and where she stood. He noted each and every indication that might reveal she was a worshipper of the Devil. Naturally it was for this reason alone that he could not take his eyes off her, he told himself. He must not forget to write down everything he saw: the yellowy green, cat-like eyes; the seductive curves that had developed too early; her hips, her breasts, the waist that was so impossibly small that he wondered whether his own hands might encircle it.
On that day she had forgotten to straighten his pillows. Master Johan opened his mouth to call her back, but stopped himself just before the words were uttered. What was he thinking of? He was the lnquisition’s Grand Master in waiting! He had heard of the sudden death of the pedantic verger. Terrible skin sores they had said, and his heart had failed. Well, these things happened. Johan certainly would not mourn his passing, the ignorant peasant!
As he lay there, he felt his own arm. Looking at it more closely, he could see that it had more flesh on it than before. And he could feel that his face, too, had grown plump. They prepared good food in this house and Johan thought he ought not to deny his emaciated body, especially while he was so poorly. They forced it upon him as well, so it was not his fault. The court would not blame it on him, most assuredly not! How could one say “no” and hurt the feelings of such caring folk? But it would have to stop, now, at once! He couldn’t go back looking like a fatted swine! He would stop – forthwith!
But first he would just finish off that bread cake and the large lump of cheese. They shouldn’t be left alone in the bowl. That would be so uncivilized! He must make the sacrifice. The bread tasted good, helped on its way with a mug of ale. Aaaah! Delicious! A swift prayer to the Lord, of course, for gluttony.
Tengel came into the attic again. Now here was a sorcerer, God be my witness – no, as Satan is my witness, l meant to say. Forgive me, Lord, forgive me! All these unorthodox medicaments. And those hands that touched Master Johan’s scrawny chest – they warmed so exquisitely. Oh no! He was using the wrong expressions again! There was nothing godly about sorcery! He was reluctant to admit it, but he was afraid of this demon. What was he doing? Was he not going to lay his hands upon him today? No! He’s sitting down to talk.
Johan felt disappointed at not being treated as usual, but obviously said nothing. Tengel looked thoughtfully at him, his frightful countenance mellowed by those sympathetic eyes.
‘How are you feeling today?’ he asked gently. ‘I think you are looking better.’ Reluctantly Johan had to concede that he did indeed feel better. ‘All right, if that’s true, I think you should get up this afternoon. Rest well again tomorrow, then you will be able to continue your long-delayed journey to Akershus the following day.’
Master Johan nodded, unsure if he was as relieved about this as he ought to have been. The week he had been assigned had ended a couple of days earlier, but if he presented his sudden illness as a reason – it was of course life-threatening – he would probably be spared the wrath of the Principal Judge. He needed to mortify his flesh on the final day, so that he appeared suitably famished and worn when standing before the powerful ones.
He would deliver an excellent report. He would write everything down as he travelled, so that nobody here would see it. My, my! There was so much here that he would condemn. Every question on his list was answered with ‘yes’!
Yet even better than that, he had discovered one more witch! Mistress Silje! She painted images on cloth! Godly and sinful images one after the other! She was – a woman! Had anyone ever heard of such a thing before? Everybody knew that no woman was able to paint. But site could! The pictures were so alive: the figures seemed as though they were about to walk into the room. Her tapestry paintings were better than those of many men – and that could not be tolerated! It must be Satan’s work – yes. Satan’s evil! That’s what it was!
There was also the little girl, of whom he saw almost nothing. Liv was her name, and she had ginger hair. Hair of that colour was one of the signs that the Inquisitors usually found suspicious. Many a witch had been brought down because if it. And the girl had so much knowledge! She knew exactly where Sogn was located, she spoke Latin and could calculate numbers that even he could not fathom – and that was not all …
Master Johan broke off from his thoughts, feeling suddenly very dizzy. He was surrounded by the Devil’s evil wherever he turned! He had become ensnared in a witch’s coven. The worst ones of course were Tengel and Sol. Those two would have to be annihilated as swiftly as possible. Indeed this whole family would have to be destroyed to prevent their wickedness from defiling the earth.
Then why, despite his success, did he feel so depressed? He must have overeaten. His stomach was reacting to too much rich and fatty food – the bread-cake and the cheese. He was so confused and his head seemed to be spinning. Never before had he been treated with such friendship, kindness and care as in this house!
Yet it must be a delusion – Satan’s delusion! He knew very well that the bread had not caused his annoyance, yet he directed all his anger at it. All these strange thoughts tumbled around in his head as he tried to concentrate on what Tengel was saying.
‘Has Sol’s behaviour been as you would expect?’
Behaviour? What sort of behaviour did he mean? No, he must be imagining things, he could mean nothing special by it!
‘Yes! Her behaviour has been quite excellent, thank you!’
Tengel laughed. ‘You see, Master Johan – and I feel I can tell you this because you have become a friend to this household – we have been worried about the child. But it seems we need not have been.’
‘Really?’
Tengel had decided to take a big chance. The damage had already been done, because this man knew far too much about them and, if he had decided to denounce them then their situation would be hopeless. It had not crossed Tengel’s mind to harm the man. To render him harmless, he would depend on confidence and loyalty alone.
‘Why, yes. We were concerned that she had inherited an affliction. But she has become the finest and cleverest little helper I could wish for. She is wonderful with all my patients.’
Did she care for others as well? Johan was seized by an unjustified pang of envy at the thought and struggled to dismiss it from his mind.
‘Also, of course, we were afraid of the curse.’ continued Tengel earnestly. ‘In fact very afraid.’
Master Johan almost jumped out of the bed in his agitation. ‘The curse?’
‘Yes. Both Sol and I have been born with it. Liv and Are might have been, but they were spared. I have had a hard life, Master Johan. Longing to be as others are, while carrying this burden! My childhood years were so gruelling that I am loath to describe them to you. Only one who had suffered them would be able to comprehend. Many was the time when I thought of ending the accursed existence of the life I had, but as you know too well, Master Johan, it is a sin against God to take one’s life. That was when I met Silje. She has brought me so much gladness. I am certainly the happiest man in the whole of Norway, Master Johan, for the day always dawns brighter after the darkest night, does it not? But it was always Sol that I worried about, and now things are well with her.’
‘You spoke of a curse?’
‘Yes. Do you wish to hear more?’
‘Indeed. Very much.’ This non-human sitting before him with his sad eyes could never know just how much he wanted to hear more.
Tengel paused, then nodding in agreement, he began.
‘Once at the beginning of time … Well, perhaps not so long ago as that – but at least several hundred years ago – there lived a man called Tengel of the Ice People.’
‘The Ice People?’ exclaimed Johan rather loudly, before quickly recovering his composure.
‘Yes. Have you heard of them?’
Master Johan had certainly heard of them. A man from Trondelag had recently been travelling through Denmark proudly bragging about how he had helped obliterate an entire val
ley populated by witches and warlocks – but he decided in that moment not to reveal what he knew. ‘No!’ he replied evasively, ‘I’ve no knowledge of them at all.’
‘Well, this Tengel of the Ice People was a very wicked person. It is said that he sold his soul to Satan in return for happiness and wealth in this life. Some of his descendants would be chosen to inherit evil powers and abilities that no other could acquire in order to carry out the wishes of the Evil One. Can you believe this?’
Johan gave a calm nod of his head, but he was quivering with excitement. This would be something to tell the Court! The Ice People. The accursed ones, the damned!
‘Not that I believe that devil’s story,’ said Tengel. ‘There is no doubt that my forefather had a streak of evil in him that has been passed down to some of us. Look at us! I am one of the afflicted, as is my niece, Sol. All my life I have tried to fight the wickedness within me and use its power for good. Dear God – if you understood how many troublesome, barren times I have known! Silje and I have tried to bring up Sol to be a good person, but it has been difficult, because she cannot grasp the difference between right and wrong – good and evil. Not until now – since you arrived – have I seen how much goodness she has within her. She is a wonderful girl, Master Johan, who is struggling to conquer the wickedness in her soul.’
Insidiously Johan asked, ‘But you are surely not the only descendants of that man of the Devil?’
‘Yes, we are. You see the bailiff’s troops killed all the others. We were able to flee across the mountains and nobody else knows that we survived. Nobody except for the two ladies of Grastensholm and their little boy, that is. He also endured the journey across the mountains away from the Valley of the Ice People with us. Yes and there are four old ones living in Trondelag who know, but they will tell no one. And now you, Master Johan. But you have been so much like one of our family these past few days that we trust you implicitly. Sol is very fond of you and worries about your health.’
Master Johan swallowed. His stomach was aching so badly that he felt sick. The Inquisition Court – the burnings – a sensational tale to tell – honour and recognition! A tribute to God! A triumph! A magnificent triumph!
‘Believe me, Master Johan, when I say that I have toiled hard to remedy the horror that was thrust upon me at birth. All I have ever thought of is to be kind-hearted to others. I only wish I knew whether I had succeeded.’
All those proud instruments of torture – inflicting the most exquisite pain! The reality of Tengel’s voice was so far away.
‘What is wrong, Master Johan? Are you feeling unwell?’ In reply, his patient mumbled indistinctly and none of his words were clearly audible. Tengel supposed he might be trying to utter words of comfort, so did not press him. Seeing that the greenish pallor was beginning to fade from the man’s taut face, he stood up quietly and left the room. When he had shut the door behind him, Tengel stood with his eyes closed, completely exhausted. Had he achieved what he set out to do? Had it been right to reveal everything? He opened his eyes to see Sol standing, looking questioningly up at him. He placed his hands on her shoulders and silently motioned her to accompany him downstairs.
‘What’s wrong, Tengel?’ she asked as they moved down towards the ground floor. ‘You look very worried.’
Tengel bit his lip. ‘I do not know who this man is, Sol – Master Johan, I mean. But there is something about him that does not feel right, something I have sensed from the moment he arrived. You know how I notice such things, don’t you?’
Sol nodded, but did not say anything. Having reached the bottom of the stairs, they carried on out into the yard, away from the house. The air was chill and the sky overcast – the fine summer weather had abandoned them for the day.
‘Something is completely awry,’ Tengel continued, ‘which is why I decided to adopt the path of friendship. I appealed to the man’s better nature and told him of the load we carry with us.’
And if he has no better nature?’
‘We can but hope, Sol,’ he replied with a melancholy smile. Sol looked at him earnestly. ‘I believe you did right, father. I sense that this will end well.’
‘I am not as sure as you are,’ he sighed. ‘Who do you think he can be?’
‘Hmm, who can say? That nasty little verger hinted at something that might have been a warning. That we shouldn’t be so sure of ourselves. I thought he was talking about himself; but now that I think about it, maybe he wasn’t.’
Tengel’s fingers dug into her shoulders. ‘Merciful God, Sol! What are we to do?’
‘We shall carry on as you have started,’ she answered calmly. ‘I too will appeal to his better nature. And don’t worry,’ she gave a smile, ‘I know my place now!’
‘That’s good. Do what you can, Sol.’
She looked down. ‘I shall do my very best. I am a responsible girl now.’
‘I know you are. You have been very resourceful. If you carry okn like that everything will be well with us!’
****
It was time to bid farewell and Johan, dressed in his plain brown cloak, stood ready to leave. The two younger children had each given him a parting hug, so hard that his neck still ached. Silje had given him a basket filled with food and warm clothes and her eyes had filled with tears as she wished him well for the future.
Tengel’s powerful hand reached out and those strange eyes peered trustingly into his. ‘Be sure to take the medication as I have told you! Remember Master Johan that you do not have a strong constitution! Thank you for visiting our humble home, it has been a pleasure to have you here with us.’
‘And for me also,’ he muttered, finding it hard to say the words. ‘Please accept my warm thanks for all the – food.’
Tengel handed him a small item of silver. ‘Take this – and keep it about your person. It is an amulet that will protect you against all evil.’ Tengel laughed and added, ‘Real witchcraft! It holds all sorts of strange things – but I believe it works.’
With barely a moment’s hesitation, Johan took it from him. Proof at last! The very thing he had been seeking. The perfect piece of evidence and now it was his! He could feel Sol staring at him. Her eyes had a strange fiery glow that seemed to be asking him something. Such wonderful, beautiful eyes!
Quite unexpectedly, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself to him. At that moment she was behaving as a child again, but Johan, seeing her also as a young woman, could not help hugging her a little closer than was appropriate and tears filled his eyes. As they drew apart she gave him one final glance. It held so much intense heartache, such endless pity – her emotions became his and he found it hard to breathe – there was a knot of deep gloom below his heart, tearing at him. Abruptly wishing them a hasty goodbye, he turned away.
The coachman from Grastensholm took him all the way to the outskirts of the town. However, Master Johan did not go on to Akershus straight away. Waiting until the carriage had driven out of sight, he entered the first inn he came to. He asked for writing implements and while he drank a glass of wine he sat staring at his list, preparing to write down the answers. In his pocket, the amulet Tengel had given him seemed to be on fire.
He sat thinking for a long time, becoming aware that a strong pain was growing in his abdomen. The glass of wine became a bottle, yet still no words had appeared on the paper lying in front of him. Deep pools of despondency, melancholy and gloom surrounded him. They called to him and drew him to them, dragging him down, deeper and deeper, clutching at him with talons of uncontrollable sadness.
Visions drifted past him – the innocent faces of the children, the pure image of the wife, the huddled figures standing on the steps waving him farewell. They were an unusually happy family – and heathen! He took the burning amulet from his pocket. This was Satan’s artifact and it was enough to convict all of them. Oh, yes, he could convict the messengers of the Devil – he knew what to do – and he had been highly praised for his strict, unbending ways.
/> Two men were engrossed in conversation in the booth behind him. He had been half-listening to them for a while and the vague thought had crossed his mind that he recognised one of the voices. He listened more closely, because they were discussing a subject about which he knew a great deal.
‘Yes, it was one of the Inquisition’s henchmen! He ordered a terrible punishment for the woman.’
‘How was she condemned?’
‘Neighbour’s wife informed against her. Cows had stopped milking.’
‘That’s evidence enough! What was her punishment?’
‘The funnel.’
Johan gave a start. He had often ordered the use of the funnel – it was his favourite method of torture. A funnel was thrust into the mouth of the condemned and water poured in. She was forced to swallow, it was impossible not to – and those great tubs of water
Johan shuddered from head to toe. The pull of the depths was there again, dizzying, enticing – Sol’s eyes. So sad – beckoning. Triumph. Honour! Then suddenly nothingness! It was all gone. His mind was a void. Then he heard the voice from behind him again. ‘She stayed alive for a long time in the flames. It was an extraordinary sight to see!’
Johan was becoming more light-headed. Suddenly he grabbed his pen and began scribbling frantically. He was answering all the questions with an emphatic ‘No!’, pressing so hard each time that the pen almost broke in two. Underneath he added, ‘There are no signs that any person in the house has ever practised witchcraft. I have received an urgent summons to Denmark and must leave this very day.’
He left his booth quietly so that the men would not see him, paid for the wine and once outside he called to a young lad in the yard.
‘Here! I want you to take this letter to the Principal Judge of the Inquisitional Court. It is very important and you will be paid well for your trouble. Wait, you shall have a coin from me and this amulet as well. It is of silver and has the power to protect you from evil.’
Witch-Hunt Page 22