Daniel

by Henning Mankell

  CHAPTER 27

  The lookout yawned. He was standing by the railing and scanning the horizon with his binoculars. Daybreak had come slowly across the Sound. At the stern a deckhand was hoisting the three-tongued blue-and-yellow Swedish naval flag in which the coat of arms of the kingdom of Norway was inset. The morning was cool, the water calm. On the east side lay Malmö, to the west Copenhagen. They were steaming slowly northwards. King Oskar had come down with a headache the evening before, and Captain Roslund had hove to during the night. Now they were continuing their slow progress towards Gothenburg, which was the first stop on the journey to Kristiania.

  The lookout kept looking though his field glasses. A lone seagull sat bobbing on the waves. In the distance some fishing boats were on their way north, perhaps heading for the rich fishing banks beyond the Danish coast.

  Suddenly the lookout spied a boat floating still on the water. It was a very small fishing skiff. He rested his elbows on the railing to steady his gaze. It looked as though someone was preparing to set a net or perhaps a buoy. Then he realised to his shock that someone was tying weights around a human body. He called to the deckhand, who had finished with the flag. Captain Roslund, who was always up early in the morning, stuck his head out from the bridge and shushed him. The Swedish King was sleeping and did not want to be disturbed. The deckhand looked through the binoculars.

  ‘They’re tipping someone overboard,’ he said in amazement. ‘Could it be a murder?’

  They took turns looking through the glasses again and were convinced. A lifeless body was being wrapped in a blanket with stone sinkers. In the boat were a young girl and a boy who was completely black.

  The deckhand shuddered. ‘We have to tell Roslund.’

  Together they went up to the command bridge of the Drott. The captain listened to what they had to say, shook his head, but then put his own big telescope up to his eye. He gave a start, lowered the glass and then raised it again.

  ‘We’ll have to go over there,’ he said. ‘If the King wakes up, let’s hope he understands that it was necessary.’

  Roslund gave orders to increase their speed slightly. The white-uniformed helmsman was given the new course. Roslund estimated the distance at eight hundred metres.

  ‘One of them is black,’ Roslund said. ‘Could it be a coal stoker?’

  ‘It’s a boy,’ replied the deckhand.

  Daniel saw the large ship approaching. Earlier it had not been moving at all. He was having a hard time fastening the two stone sinkers he had found in the boat. Sanna refused to help him. She had turned her back, playing with one hand in the water and humming, as if what was going on behind her was of no consequence.

  When Daniel finally tipped the body into the water the large ship was already quite close.

  The body did not sink. It remained floating near the boat.

  Someone shouted to him, a man with a peaked cap and gold buttons on his coat. Daniel didn’t listen. He tried to force the body under the surface, but it was no use. A lifeboat was lowered over the side and some seamen rowed quickly over to their skiff. Sanna had pulled the dirty blanket over her head, but she kept on humming. Daniel could hear that it was a hymn. The man with the peaked cap grabbed hold of the gunwale.

  ‘What the hell is going on here? Did you kill him?’

  The seamen began to pull up the body. There was another boat next to the lifeboat. Two seamen had guns in their hands.

  The body was now halfway out of the water. Hans Höjer’s face had turned yellow. One eye was half open, as if even in death he wanted to know what was going on around him.

  ‘This man has been murdered,’ said Roslund. ‘I’ve seen plenty in my day, but never a little black devil like this all alone out on the Sound. Why is the girl hiding under the blanket?’

  Daniel thought he ought to say something. but Sanna, who kept humming underneath the blanket, upset him and made it impossible for him to find the words.

  At that moment there was a whistled signal from the big ship. It cut through the dawn and scared some seagulls from the water.

  ‘Hell,’ said Roslund. ‘What’s the King doing up so early?’

  He turned round and saluted. A man with a grey beard was standing at the railing. Next to him were two men dressed in black and white. One had a tray in his hand, the other a towel.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked the man with the grey beard.

  ‘I don’t know, Your Majesty. But we discovered someone trying to throw a corpse overboard.’

  People had begun gathering at the railing of the big ship. A woman appeared but the man with the grey beard waved her away.

  ‘Who’s hiding under the blanket?’

  One of the seamen pulled off the blanket. Sanna closed her eyes and held her hands in front of her face. She kept humming, louder now, and she was rocking back and forth.

  ‘Bring them aboard,’ said the King. ‘But perhaps it would be best to tie up the Negro boy. Quite a remarkable wake-up call, I must say. The sun comes up in the mist and the first thing one sees is a little black boy who has committed a murder.’

  Roslund pointed to two of the seamen. One of them took off his belt and tried to grab Daniel’s hands, but Daniel sank his teeth into the man’s wrist. The seaman yelled and let go of Daniel, who began climbing overboard. There was nothing else to do now. Once again his journey home had been interrupted. Now he was surrounded by men in white who wanted to tie him up, so he might as well die. He would then drift deep in the sea until he finally reached home. That would be better than being buried in the earth behind Hallén’s church, where nobody would ever find him.

  He made it only halfway into the water. The person who caught him was not one of the seamen but Sanna, who suddenly cast herself over him. He tried to pull himself loose, but she held on, and she was strong. He bit and struggled, but she didn’t seem to care.

  ‘I won’t!’ he screamed. ‘I want to go home!’

  Somewhere inside him his old language welled up and cut through all the words he had been forced to learn. Be and Kiko were inside him, their voices shouted at Sanna, and they struggled as much as he did. They didn’t want to let go of him now that he was so close.

  ‘We’re not going to drown!’ Sanna screamed. ‘We’re going back home, no matter what happens. We’re going home.’

  Daniel realised that Sanna had betrayed him. She wouldn’t let him die. She forced first Be and then Kiko to release their grip. Two of the seamen dragged him aboard and tied his hands behind him with the belt. He no longer resisted. He just closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, to force his heart to stop beating. He felt himself lifted up and carried off and then he lay utterly still.

  When he opened his eyes the man with the grey beard was standing watching him. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot.

  ‘Hardly one of my subjects,’ he said. ‘Not even in the remotest villages in Norway can one find the like. A Negro.’

  The man looked at Captain Roslund, who stood next to him.

  ‘What does the girl say?’

  Roslund snapped to attention and held his arms rigid at his side.

  ‘To be honest the girl doesn’t seem very bright, Your Majesty. She says that they were sailing to the desert. And that the man just died. Dr Steninger was unable to find any wounds on the body. He asks for permission to carry out an autopsy.’

  ‘On the Drott? Are corpses to be cut open on the King’s yacht? On my holiday trip to Kristiania? Permission denied!’

  Roslund stamped on the deck, saluted, turned on his heel and left.

  Daniel lay on a sail that had been spread out. Someone had placed a pillow under his head. All around people stood looking at him, but it was the man with the grey beard who was the most important. He stood closest, and there was a distance between him and the others. Daniel thought that he recognised his face. He had seen him before.

  ‘I think he recognises Your Majesty,’ said a man with a short stubby moustache.

&nb
sp; Then Daniel remembered. In Alma and Edvin’s sitting room there was a picture on the wall. The picture was of the man who was now looking at him. Once Daniel had asked who he was, and Alma had said he was King Oskar and then a number that he didn’t recall.

  He sat up at once. The grey-bearded man took a quick step backwards.

  ‘Careful,’ he said. ‘It’s possible the boy cannot be trusted. What does the girl say?’

  ‘She’s crying, Your Majesty.’

  ‘But before - what did she say about the boy?’

  ‘She said that his name is Daniel and he’s from an African desert.’

  ‘But I definitely heard him speaking Swedish, in a Skåne dialect.’

  ‘She said that they come from a village near Tomelilla.’

  ‘And they were just off on a sailing trip?’

  ‘He wanted to go back to the desert.’

  The man who was the King held out his hand and was given a handkerchief. He wiped his mouth and then dropped it on the deck.

  ‘A peculiar dawn,’ said the King. ‘One awakens too early and immediately one has the most remarkable experience. Bathe the boy and put some clothes on him. They need food. See to it that the girl stops crying. Then I want to hear their story. What’s happening with the dead man?’

  ‘He is being taken ashore, Your Majesty.’

  The King nodded and turned to go. A woman leaned over towards Daniel. She smelled strongly of perfume. She looked at him and then burst out laughing.

  Daniel passively submitted to everything. He was bathed, given new clothes and a coat with yellow buttons. Then he was led into a room where Sanna was waiting. She was wearing a dress and her mouth was wide open.

  ‘The King!’ she shrieked. ‘We’re on the King’s boat.’

  ‘You should have let me drown. Why didn’t you let me sink to the bottom?’

  She didn’t hear him. She tugged on her dress, her eyes still big with disbelief.

  ‘It’s the King,’ she said again, and Daniel saw that she had tears in her eyes, but whether they were from fear or joy he couldn’t tell.

  Sanna had pulled him back into the boat. She had been stronger than Be and Kiko and she had betrayed him.

  He knew that he must have revenge, but he didn’t know how.

  The door opened. A man with a gold ribbon over his shoulder came in.

  ‘His Majesty awaits,’ he said in a wheezing voice.

  He motioned for them to stand up and turn round. He straightened Daniel’s coat.

  ‘No one sits down until His Majesty gives permission. No one says anything unless His Majesty addresses one of you. You reply briefly and clearly, using no curse words, of course, and do not sit with your legs crossed. If His Majesty laughs, it may be suitable to join in with a brief laugh, or rather a smile with a little sound. No improvisations are acceptable. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Sanna, curtsying.

  ‘No,’ said Daniel. ‘I want to die.’

  ‘His Majesty expects answers to his questions and no digressions. Is that understood?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Sanna, and curtsied even deeper.

  ‘I want to die,’ said Daniel again.

  They went down a narrow corridor, up some stairs and stopped before a double door.

  ‘His Majesty will receive you in the aft salon. It is proper to curtsy and bow at the exact moment when I close the doors.’

  They went inside. The man with the grey beard, from the portrait on Alma and Edvin’s wall, sat leaning back in a chair upholstered in red. He had a cigar in his hand. Behind him stood the man who had given the King the handkerchief. Otherwise the room was empty. Sanna curtsied and Daniel bowed. He remembered what Kiko had once told him, about the kings in olden times - you were supposed to fall to the ground and place your neck under their feet as a sign of submission.

  I’m standing before a king, thought Daniel. He is my last chance.

  He took a few steps forward, threw himself prostrate on the floor and then grabbed one of the King’s patent-leather shoes and placed it on his neck. The King flew out of his chair and the man with the handkerchief nervously rang a bell. Daniel was instantly surrounded by men who seemed to have come in through the walls. They held him tight.

  The King sat down again.

  ‘Careful,’ he said. ‘Let us take a cautious look at the Negro child. It is clear that the girl is less than intelligent, but the boy must have a remarkable tale to tell.’

  They were allowed to sit on low stools of the same red fabric as the King’s chair. Sanna immediately began to weep. But she did it silently. It was only Daniel who noticed the tears running down her cheeks. Maybe it was because she was sorry, maybe now she realised that she should have let him sink into the deep where Be and Kiko were waiting. He understood, and yet he hated her.

  ‘What’s your name?’ asked the King.

  ‘My name is Daniel. I believe in God.’

  The King regarded the smoke curling from his cigar.

  ‘A good answer. But it seems practised. Let me hear the story. About how you came here.’

  Daniel told him. Maybe the King would understand how important it was for him to continue his journey. Sanna sat in silence, tugging at her dress. Now and then the King would ask a question, and Daniel tried to answer without losing the thread of his story.

  When he was finished, the King looked at him for a long time. Daniel saw that his eyes were kind. But they didn’t see him. They looked past him, just like Father’s when he was thinking about something important.

  ‘A peculiar story,’ said the King. ‘But filled with good intentions. You ought to stay and live your life where you have ended up. You should forget the desert. And besides, it’s much too hot there.’

  He nodded to the man with the handkerchief. The man in the gold livery who always stood in the background came closer.

  The King stood up and held out two photographs. His name was written on them. The photograph was the same one that was on the wall at Alma and Edvin’s house. Sanna made a deep curtsy. Daniel took the photograph but dropped it on the floor. He bent down to pick it up thinking that somebody was going to punish him by hitting him on the head.

  ‘In truth, quite a remarkable dawn,’ said the King and left the room.

  They were allowed to keep the clothes, and their wet ones were put in a sea bag. The boat with Hans Höjer’s dead body had already gone. Daniel noticed that two seamen were always at his side in case he tried to jump overboard again. But he had given up. They went down a ladder and then sailed to the shore. A wind had blown up over the Sound. They came to the city called Malmö. Sanna held the picture of the King tightly. Daniel did as he was told. A carriage was brought up, and the coachman was instructed where to go. When they were sitting in the carriage, Sanna leaned against him.

  ‘Now he won’t dare hit me any more,’ she said. ‘He won’t dare throw me down on the ground and stick it in. Not when I have a picture of the King.’

  Daniel didn’t reply. Sanna had betrayed him. He could never forgive her for that.

  Late that evening the carriage rolled into the yard. It was Sanna who had directed the coachman. Alma and Edvin came outside. Daniel said nothing. He went straight into the barn and lay down in the straw. Outside he could hear Sanna explaining, leaping from one word to another as if the words were a skipping rope. When she stopped, Daniel burrowed into the straw. He heard Alma and Edvin come in and sensed that Alma had squatted down by his side. She put her hand on his brow.

  ‘He’s hot again.’

  ‘How will we ever understand him?’ said Edvin.

  ‘Go now,’ said Alma. ‘I’ll sit here a while.’

  Daniel pretended to be asleep. He breathed slowly and deeply.

  ‘What makes you so restless?’ said Alma. ‘How can we make sure that you won’t kill yourself with longing? How can a child carry around so much sorrow?’

  The next day Daniel stayed silent. His coughing fits worsened. Dr Mads
en came several times to examine him, but Daniel no longer answered any questions. He was mute. Afterwards Madsen had a long conversation with Alma and Edvin, talking in serious whispers. That evening Alma came to Daniel and asked him if he wanted to move back into the kitchen. They hadn’t found a new milkmaid to replace Vanja and he could have a better bed. His cough wouldn’t go away if he stayed out here with the animals.

  Daniel could hear that she meant what she said. His cough had begun to crack him open inside.

  Two weeks after his last attempt to return to the desert, Daniel woke up in the middle of the night. He was very hot. When he rubbed his hand across his forehead he could feel that he was sweating. It was Kiko who had woken him. He stood with his hand over his face to shield his eyes and laughed. He hadn’t said a word, but Daniel understood what he meant. He got up from his bed in the straw and searched for the tip of a scythe that the hired hand had broken off. Then he headed out into the night. He ran barefoot through the dark. The sky was clear, and he didn’t stop until he came to the church. He squatted down and coughed. When he touched his mouth with his hand he saw that there was blood.

  Daniel picked a stone in the wall of the churchyard that was completely smooth. He carved an antelope into it. It was hard to do, and he made many mistakes. The legs were different lengths, the animal’s back much too straight. But the most important thing was the eye. He took great care to make it completely round.

  Then he sat down to wait.

  When the cough came he drew the index finger of his right hand across his lips and then dabbed the blood in the antelope’s eye. In the darkness he couldn’t see the colour, but he knew that the antelope’s eye would shine bright red in the daytime when the dawn came.

  CHAPTER 28