And they went straight to the blessing.
* * *
At three o’clock in the morning, Lorch’s cello sang in the master bedroom. Anders turned in his bed. The moon cast a lonely shadow of the window crosspiece on him. He decided to take a trip to Namsos to buy lumber before winter. But he did not sleep until early morning.
Benjamin heard Lorch’s cello too. The notes floated across the courtyard into the cottage.
He had seen the dinner party through the parlor windows. The tall, dark man with the ugly scar had looked at Dina. As if he owned her.
Stine had called him inside in plenty of time for him to change his clothes and join the group in the main house.
But Benjamin Gronelv had sailed from Eagerness that day. And had been abandoned on the beach.
Dina would have to bring him to the table herself!
He knew she would not do that.
Leo followed her into the master bedroom. Like the leader of an army who finally enters the triumphal chariot, having conquered the largest city in the land. He had already removed her coat and shoes in the entry downstairs.
The black stove rumbled faintly. Annette had started a fire early in the evening.
Dina lighted the candles in the candelabra on the mirrored table. Extinguished the lamp.
He stood watching while she began to undress. When her bodice lay on the floor, he sighed, moving his hands in a circle over her bare shoulders.
She took off her shift, and her breasts tumbled out. Prisoners released into his hands. Shining, each with its dark protrusion growing beneath his fingertips. He leaned over and drank from them.
She fumbled with the waistband of her skirt. There was a soft rustling of material. An eternity of material. Finally, she stood in just her pantalets.
He let his hands glide down her hips and sighed again. He found all the forms he was seeking. Warm skin through the finest East Indian cotton percale. It drove him wild. And they were both still on their feet.
She got free and took off his vest as she gazed into his eyes. Loosened his neck scarf and removed it. Then his shirt.
He stood with his eyes half closed and enjoyment showing in every feature. The wide leather belt with a brass buckle. Leather trousers. She leaned over him and around him. Her fingers were calm and warm. At last he stood naked before her.
Then she sank to her knees and hid her face against his groin. She owned him and took possession. With her mouth and hands.
He lifted the large woman onto his hips. His arms trembled from the exertion. At first he moved his hips only slightly.
A cooing, pleasurable movement. A black grouse pressing its partner before coupling. Then, slowly, he thrust into her. Drew her body close, like a mighty shield against all danger.
She responded by putting her arms and thighs around him. And holding him tight. Until he grew calm. Then she lifted her breast to his mouth and clung to him with strong arms.
He was a cylinder in a huge machine. Gliding. Heavy. Deep.
The ride began. Thirst and hunger.
Desire!
Finally, he laid her on the floor. Waited, then stole upon her.
His hips were so firm! His breathing so exciting! His spear so exhaustive! He rode her toward a corner, seductively forcing all the notes to a crescendo.
When she threw back her head and plummeted endlessly, he held her hips and rode into her.
She welcomed him.
Their trembling flanks merged, and they became one. Bore each other’s weight in a Gordian knot as red flames leaped in the black stove.
Catch us the foxes,
the little foxes
that spoil the vineyards,
for our vineyards are in blossom.
My beloved is mine and I am his,
he pastures his flock among the lilies.
Until the day breathes
and the shadows flee,
turn, my beloved, be like a gazelle,
or a young stag upon rugged mountains.
— The Song of Solomon 2 : 15-17
When Annette came to light the fire, she found the door locked. She trudged into the guest room and discovered that no one had slept in the bed.
Then she went to the kitchen to see Oline. Stood shyly with her hands under her sackcloth apron.
“Why are you standing there like that?” demanded Oline. “Aren’t you going to finish lighting the stoves?”’
“The master bedroom is locked!”
“Well, then, light the stove in the guest room, and be done with it! Anders is already outside, so you don’t have to …”
“There isn’t anybody in the guest room!”
Oline turned and looked squarely at the girl. Her eyes flashed behind large, round pupils.
“Well, you can certainly start the fire even if nobody’s there! Are you afraid of ghosts, in broad daylight?”
“But …”
“No buts!” snapped Oline, giving the coffeepot a shove on the stove that sent coffee grounds sloshing from the spout.
“What should I do about the stove in the master bedroom?”
“What should I do? What should I do?” Oline mimicked. “Have you ever heard of anyone lighting a fire through a locked door?” “No.”
“Well, then! Now stop gaping! And not a word!” Oline went over to the girl and hissed into her face: “Not a word to anyone about empty beds! Do you understand?” “Yes …”
Benjamin stopped Dina when she came into the courtyard.
“Are we going sailing today?”
“No; not today, Benjamin.”
“Are you going sailing with the Russian?”
“No.”
“What are you going to do, then?”
“Go with the Russian. Hunting.”
“Women don’t go hunting.”
“I do.”
“Can I come along?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“We can’t have children running around in the bushes when we’re going to shoot a bear.”
“I’m not a child!”
“What are you, then?”
“I’m Benjamin of Reinsnes.”
Dina smiled and gripped the back of his neck.
“That’s true. One of these days I’ll teach you to shoot with the Lapp rifle.”
“Today?”
“No; not today.”
He turned quickly and ran down to the boathouses.
Dina went to the stable and asked Tomas if she could borrow his rifle.
He gave her a long look, smiled bitterly, and nodded without a word. Then he brought the powderhorn and its pouch and took the rifle from the wall.
“The Russian won’t get anything with this. He’s only used to a pistol.”
“So you know all about what weapons Mr. Leo uses?”
“No; but he could hardly be used to a Lapp rifle!”
“But you are?”
“I know this rifle in and out. It’s got a good sight. And nobody can get a better shot….”
Dina squirmed like a snake.
“Perhaps all that shooting isn’t necessary?” she said lightly.
“No; hunting is fine in itself,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
She moved close to him. They were alone in the stable.
“I don’t mean anything, just that you’re not so particular about shooting what you intended when you’re hunting.”
“Rabbit hunting,” he added, looking her straight in the eye.
She took the rifle and the powder horn and left.
They walked up the path toward the grouse woods. She took the lead. Turned constantly, smiling like a young girl. She wore a short jacket and a homespun skirt that reached to her ankles. Her hair was tied with a ribbon at the back of her head. She carried the Lapp rifle easily, as if it were a feather in her hand.
He observed her from behind. She glittered in the sunshine.
The first frost had left its traces. The ling
onberry patches had an iron tinge. Red berries hung heavy with juice among oily leaves.
Neither of them looked for bears. Nor did they see the boy who trudged in their tracks. Well hidden behind scrubs and juniper bushes. They walked here to be alone.
She put down the rifle and waited for him behind a large rock. Sprang at him like a lynx.
He met her. Their embrace was pitch on an open fire. He was the master out here. Tamed her beneath him in the heather, until she whimpered and bit his throat. Then he burrowed himself against her, became heavy as a giant. Spread the wide skirts and found her.
“1 love you, Dina!” he murmured from a deep pool. Where water lilies drifted among the rushes. The strong, fresh smell of earth rose from the churned water. Somewhere at its edge, a large animal moaned.
“Do you want to squeeze me to death?” she gasped.
“I’m just continuing what you started,” he said hoarsely.
“Didn’t you get enough last night?”
“No.”
“Will you ever get enough?”
“No.”
“What will we do about that?”
‘I’ll come back again. And again … and again …”
She stiffened under him.
“Are you going to leave?”
“Not today.”
She threw him off in blind rage. Sat up. A large cat that leaned on its front paws and looked its prey in the eye.
“When?”
“On the next steamboat.”
“And you tell me that now?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?” she shrieked.
“Yesterday? Why?”
“You don’t know?!”
“Dina …,” he called softly, and tried to put his arms around her.
She pushed him away and got to her knees in the heather.
“You knew I had to leave,” he said pleadingly.
“No!”
“I told you, in Troms0.”
“You wrote that … you would come, no matter how bad things got. You’ve come to Reinsnes to stay!”
“No, Dina. I can’t do that.”
“Why are you here, then?”
“To see you.”
“Do you think that, for Dina of Reinsnes, it’s enough that somebody comes to see her?!”
Her voice was a hungry wolf in deep snow.
“Do you think you can just come and satisfy yourself and then leave? Are you so stupid?” she continued.
He stared at her.
“Have I promised you anything, Dina? We talked about marriage, remember? Did I promise anything?”
“Words aren’t always what counts,” she interrupted.
“I thought we understood each other.”
She did not reply. Stood up and brushed off her skirt with sharp claws. Her face was white. Her lips were covered with rime. Her eyes frozen to the depths.
He stood up too. Repeated her name several times, as if asking for mercy.
“Do you think people can leave Reinsnes unless I say so? Do you think they can just come to Reinsnes to sow their seeds and then leave? Do you think it’s that easy?”
He did not answer. Just turned halfway around and sat down in the heather again. It seemed he wanted to calm her by letting her tower over him.
“I have to go back to Russia again…. You know I’m involved in things that have to be finished.”
“Jacob wanted to be here,” she said into the air, “But he had to leave… I have him here. Always!”
“I don’t plan to die, even though your husband died. If there should be children, I’ll…”
She laughed harshly, picked up the rifle, and strode purposefully into the woods.
He rose and followed her. After a while, he realized that she had begun to hunt. She was watchful and intent. As if expressing her fury in the fierce concentration of this hunt. She slipped silently among the trees.
He smiled.
Benjamin had seen them from his lookout point. The large aspen above the scree. He sat very still and watched the people embracing behind the big rock. His mouth was open, and he had a deep furrow in his forehead. Now and then the corner of his mouth twitched.
He could not hear what was said down there. And when they finished and began walking again, he lost sight of them for a while.
But he stole after them. Benjamin wanted to see everything, without being recognized.
Leo walked calmly behind Dina, observing her body.
It attracted the setting autumn sun and searched for his shadow against tree trunks and clumps of heather.
When they came to the edge of the woods, she stopped and turned around.
“Jacob disappeared over a cliff because he didn’t know who I was.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. Relieved that she talked to him.
“He had to go over the edge. Because I wanted him to.”
“How?” he whispered.
She took a few steps backward. Slowly. Her arms hung loose.
“I let the sleigh go.”
He swallowed and tried to go to her.
“Stay there!” she commanded.
He let himself be cemented into the heather.
“Niels didn’t understand who I was either. But he did it himself.”
“Dina!”
“The fetus I bled out of me, on the Fold Sea … It was safer with Hjertrud too…. Because you didn’t come!”
“Dina, come here! Explain what you’re saying. Please!”
She turned her back to him again and began walking slowly across the plateau,
“You’re going to Russia, are you?” she shouted as she walked.
“I’ll come back. What’s this talk about a fetus that …”
“And if you don’t come back?”
“Then you’ll have been my dying thought. Tell me what happened on the Fold Sea, Dina!”
“Jacob and the others, they stay with me. They need me.”
“But they’re dead. You can’t be blamed for …”
“What do you know about blame?”
“Quite a bit. I’ve killed several …”
She turned swiftly. Stood staring at him.
“You’re just saying that,” she said furiously.
“No, Dina. They were traitors, who might have caused others to die. Still … I feel guilty.”
“Traitors! Do you know what traitors look like?”
“They have many faces. They can look like Dina Gronelv! Who wants to force a man to wear her skirts.”
I am Dina, who sees Leo coming from the shadows. He is bearded and ragged and infested with lice. He holds Pushkin’s dueling pistol in front of him so I will think it is a book of poetry. He wants to do something to me. But I keep him one step away. I have loaded the Lapp rifle to go hunting. Leo does not know what is best for him. He wants to tell me something about the new czar, Alexander II. But I am tired. I have walked a long way. I do not have a horse.
I am Dina who says to the thief: “Today you will meet Hjertrud. She will free you from all frightening thoughts, so you need not flee like a traitor.’’
I point at Cain and mark his head. So I will recognize him again. For he will be chosen and protected. Through all eternity.
I lay him down in the heather so he will always be safe in Hjertrud’s lap. I look at him. The green eyes are still trembling. He speaks to me. A beautiful stripe runs from his mouth onto my arm, I hold his head so he will not lie alone in the dark. He has seen Hjertrud.
Do you hear me, Barabbas? Lorch will play the cello for you. No, the piano! He will play the Sonata quasi una fantasia. Do you see who I am? Do you know me?
Am I always doomed to this?
Suddenly the boy stood on the cliff. His scream cut a hole in the heavens. Seconds fought in the flickering sun.
I am Dina who sees Benjamin come from the mountain. Born of cobweb and iron. His face is jagged with pain.
I am Hjertrud’s eye, which sees the
child, which sees myself.
I am Dina — who sees!
Dina's Book Page 48