Spellbound

by Margit Sandemo

  ‘I meant illness and discomfort in general.’

  ‘Well, I have not seen Tengel since the night we arrived, ten days ago.’

  Eldrid gazed thoughtfully at her. ‘That’s just like him! He comes to me every day to hear how you are settling in and to give me new orders. His regard for you is without bounds, Silje. Well, he is not at home just now, he is on the mountain getting things ready for winter, but I shall tell him. He may come to see you tonight. There is something else – I wondered if you would join us in our prayers tomorrow? Then you can meet the other people who live in the valley and not sit here shut in with the children.’

  ‘But who will look after the little ones?’

  ‘Tengel can do it. He is not allowed to attend the service, anyway.’

  ‘Whyever not?’

  Eldrid pulled a face. ‘They say he carries a shadow with him – one of you-know-who. It is so foolish and cruel. They are all suffering from the results of centuries of inbreeding, yet they look down on us.’

  ‘Do they despise you?’ asked Silje in disbelief.

  ‘No, not despise. Fear.’

  ‘But in fact it is your kin that have the purest lineage here, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes indeed! The others are completely inbred with one another, something that has to be expected after several hundred years of isolation – some of the consequences have been very unfortunate.’

  And do they let you attend their prayers from a feeling of compassion?

  ‘Yes. I am not scarred by the inheritance of the first Tengel. I am ”normal” in their eyes.’

  Silje looked long and hard at the children in the end room.

  ‘I should like to come with you, for I have been acting like a heathen of late. But can we really leave them with Tengel? The boy cries so much.’

  ‘He will just have to put up with it. Now, let me help you with the baking.’

  As soon as Eldrid had gone, Silje ran into the room where the children were and lifted Sol from the floor.

  ‘Tengel is a-coming, Tengel is a-coming,’ she sang, as she danced round with the girl.

  Sol joined in wholeheartedly, whirling round and round, and by doing so granted Silje a pardon for all the hardship she had inflicted!

  ‘We must make everything spick-and-span,’ said Silje excitedly. ‘If you sweep then I shall clean the bowls.’

  ‘Pretty skirt?’ inquired Sol.

  ‘Oh yes! You will wear your finest skirt, but we must wait until evening. First there is work to do.’

  They set the table with the nicest things they had and, when Tengel finally arrived, they had been waiting patiently, dressed in their best clothes, for a long time. Sol rushed up to him, throwing her arms around his knees in welcome. He lifted her up and admired her dress, then looked at Silje.

  ‘You had some trouble with the children, I heard.’

  That wonderful, deep voice of his, drawing her to him, made her go hot and cold at the same time.

  ‘No, it’s not that ...’

  ‘I was given a real telling-off by Eldrid,’ he interrupted. ‘She told me that I had no understanding of what it meant to keep house and care for two children alone – especially for one as young and impractical as you. So tell me, what’s wrong with them.’

  ‘Well,’ she stammered, finding it hard to utter the words while he watched her so seriously. ‘Dag first of all,’ and she undressed the infant again. It was a tedious, awkward process.

  Tengel looked at him. ‘Did I not give you an ointment once – for your foot?’

  ‘You did, but can it be used for this as well? I did not dare try it.’

  ‘Hmm, no! I have something better,’ he replied, taking out a small pouch.

  In a soft voice, with memories of his last healing fresh in her mind, she asked ‘Do you need to be alone with him?’

  There was almost a smile as he said, ‘I don’t invoke chants and incantations for such a little rump as this!’

  So that was what he did – incantations! Silje felt a cold chill run down her spine. Tengel read her thoughts.

  ‘For so long as I use my powers in the cause of good, I see no reason for you to find fault with me.’

  ‘I would not do that,’ she replied, blushing, feeling ashamed. ‘It’s simply that you scare me at times.’

  ‘Have I given you cause to fear me?’ His voice was low, remorseful, and the words tore at her heart.

  ‘Sille dance – dance,’ shouted Sol suddenly, changing the mood.

  Tengel turned to her, ‘What’s that you say? Was Silje dancing?’

  ‘Sill an’ Sol dance roundanroundanroun – like this,’ she showed him, adding, ‘Sing’d Tengel commin, Tengel commin.’

  ‘Tell-tale,’ muttered Silje through clenched teeth.

  Then Sol stopped her whirling, hopping dance and said, ‘Sill cry – in bed, cry!’

  Tengel was serious once more. ‘Do you, Silje?’

  ‘No – she makes too much of things. Pay her no heed.’

  Then Sol remembered how badly she had been treated, the insult she had suffered, earlier in the day ‘Sill hit me, hit me,’ she announced wide-eyed, sensing the importance of this message.

  ‘Oh yes! I did hear that a young lady had scattered hot coals all around the hearth – and I cannot think that Silje would hit you very hard.’

  Once they had tended to Dag and wrapped him up again, they sat down to eat. Sol was delighted to be awake at such a late hour.

  ‘I think the boy’s skin rash may be caused by the milk he is getting,’ said Tengel. ‘At this time of year our cows are being fed on turnips and their milk may be too strong for him. I will tell Eldrid to feed one cow on hay and see if it helps. We must be a bit careful with him, because he never fed on his mother’s milk.’

  Silje was fascinated. ‘How do you know so much? I have never heard anyone speak like that before. I mean – what the cows eat!’

  ‘Ah, we know many things in our family.’ There was some bitterness in his voice. Then he said, ‘I agree with Eldrid that you must have some help. You have dark rings under your eyes.’

  ‘There is not much time to sleep that’s true, what with Dag crying all the time. But there is something I should like, Tengel.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘The old loom in the back room. I should love to weave on it, if I may’

  ‘Of course you can!’ he said gleefully. ‘I shall ask Eldrid to help you set it up. I wonder if she has any yarn.’

  ‘I can spin my own – there are piles of wool in there. I am good at things like that, Tengel. It will help stop me from feeling so useless, so helpless.’

  ‘Why on earth do you feel like that?’

  Sol had fallen asleep on the bench, still wearing her best dress. She was not used to being up so late, but had wanted so much to see Tengel again and, as the most obstinate child in all of Norway, she had got her way.

  ‘Well, because I am useless,’ she retorted. ‘The only things I am good at are things nobody needs to know. Benedikt told me that as well.’

  ‘Benedikt said that you were a little artist, a creative soul, and that one should not overburden such folk with mundane tasks or their nerves will suffer. That is what has happened to you.’

  ‘But I feel so ashamed by it.’

  Tengel had never touched a woman. Now, instinctively, he reached out and gently stroked her cheek. Silje gasped and turned her head slightly and her lips kissed his hand. He took some of her hair in a strong grip and gave a deep trembling sigh. Then abruptly he rose and stood away from the table. ‘I must leave now.’

  ‘But you will come back soon, won’t you?’ She stood there waiting for his answer. He didn’t move. He just looked at her.

  ‘I cannot say I shall try not to but ...’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Ever since Eldrid came to fetch me today, telling me that I should come here, I feel as though I have been struck by fever. Yes, I will come back, but never alone. I just ... would not be a
ble to do that. But I will look after the children tomorrow.’

  Then he turned quickly and left.

  Once she had put Sol to bed and tidied everything away for the night, Silje began slowly to undress. Usually she would sleep wearing her shift, not wanting to take off all her clothes; she was a little prudish about such things. Tonight was different, however, and she sat on the edge of the bed, bathed in the glow from the fire in the main room, and slowly, very slowly pulled her shift over her head and placed it beside her. Without daring to look down, she lightly touched her skin, letting her hands play across her body and down towards the curve of her waist. She knew she was slim and well developed, with breasts that were firm and nicely rounded. She placed her hands on her belly to feel how flat it was and only then, feeling a little bit ashamed, did she look down at herself.

  He would like her body, she thought. There was nothing displeasing about it. If only he had wanted it ... then she snapped out of the fantasy and her courage left her, to be replaced by shame once more. Picking up her shift, she pulled it back on as fast as she could.

  ****

  The prayer meeting was held at the home of Heming’s father, the chieftain. Silje walked there with Eldrid, nervous and anxious, but excited at the same time. Tengel had arrived to take care of the children and his swift, almost unseen smile was enough for her to live on for a whole week, or so she thought.

  They had come to a magnificent house, not quite as large as Benedikt’s, perhaps, but it offered all that one could ask for in this isolated place. It boasted woodcarvings and patterns that would be hard to find anywhere. Every doorpost and ceiling beam had been worked in the most artistic fashion. Silje was so impressed by it all that she completely forgot to curtsey and greet her host properly.

  ‘Yes, they are rather fine, aren’t they?’ Heming’s father was every inch the chieftain, with his long beard and lean noble bearing.

  Coming back to reality, Silje looked down from the beam she had been admiring.

  ‘So unbelievably beautiful,’ she exclaimed. ‘Who has done such fine work?’

  ‘Ah – it is very old, a couple of hundred years, I think. One of my ancestors did it. Anyway, I expect you must be Silje. Heming has spoken of you and how you helped to decorate a church. So you understand this sort of thing?’ This last question was followed by a patronising chuckle, as if to confirm that a woman would know nothing of art.

  Silje remembered her manners and gave a low curtsey. Heming was there in the hall, with that mocking smile of his, but he said nothing and his father continued, ‘I had been told that you saved the life of my errant son. For that you have my heartfelt thanks.’

  ‘I did not do very much,’ she said humbly. ‘Tengel did most of it.’

  He cast a curious glance at her. Something about the way she had spoken Tengel’s name – with reverence, breathlessly – had surprised him.

  They were taken into the great hall, where the rest of the Ice People had congregated, with the exception of those who had most right to call themselves Ice People: the poor accursed descendants of Tengel the Evil One. Silje felt very uncomfortable in front of the many inquisitive faces of those watching her entrance. Benches had been set up on either side of a long table, one for men and one for women. Both sides seemed to be equally critical in regarding the newcomer, but Eldrid had prepared her for this. Silje had lived on the outside with those they feared most. Who would dare do such a thing? What sort of person would she be?

  Not a word was spoken. She did the only thing she could – curtsey to them and wait by the door. She could see at once, however, evidence of everything she had ever been told about in-breeding. There were two cretins, their mouths agape, one other who was clearly mad and a pair of very dangerous-looking individuals. Yet they were all accepted for what they were, and Silje found that touching. She just could not understand why a good person like Tengel should be shunned.

  They showed her to a place on the women’s bench and the service began. She found it hard to concentrate, no matter how she tried. Although she knew full well that she ought to be listening to the words of God, she could feel the artful glances of the others; the eyes that were averted as soon as she looked in their direction.

  Most of the people there seemed friendly, but that didn’t make them any less critical or curious; almost the opposite, in fact. Worst of them all were two young boys who simply sat and stared at her all the time, without once pretending to look away. One of them was probably not as normal as other folk, but this was not easy to see from his appearance. There was something about him – she couldn’t describe it – his eyes had a wildness in them, uncontrolled, that told her she had better be wary of him.

  When the prayers were finished and everyone rose to their feet, she saw to her dismay that many of those whose minds were disturbed were wearing chains. So this was how they were kept safe! Their plight saddened her, but could it be that there was no other way to control them?

  She walked home with a heavy heart, full of compassion for all in the valley, disturbed and far from strengthened by God’s word. Something Eldrid had said earlier came back to her – that, in many cases, those pious faces were just for show. For behind the low narrow doors of their homes, people bowed before different gods – the invisible forces of nature, supernatural spirits that one didn’t even dare to name. It was not only the kin of the first Tengel who were immersed in such things, although they were the only ones with powers. It was not surprising that all the Ice People were feared, excommunicated and hunted down by the worldly authorities outside.

  They had been walking in silence for a while when her curiosity prompted her to ask, ‘There is a dwelling close to the outflow of the lake that Tengel showed me when we came. He said two of his relatives lived there and that I should never go near it. Were they at the meeting today?’

  ‘Hanna and Grimar? No – are you mad?’ replied Eldrid, crossing herself as she spoke.

  ‘Are they the … worst ones?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ said Eldrid drawing a deep breath. ‘Nobody goes there. Not ever!’

  ‘Why not?’

  The older woman’s voice became a whisper. ‘They can cast sickness upon you, make you see things, make you lame or blind your eyes, put a curse on the cows and stop them milking – all that is evil is within their grasp. It is they who have cursed this valley with so many simpletons.’

  ‘That cannot be!’ said Silje decisively ‘In my learning I was told that even the families of nobility were not permitted to marry into each other too many times, for there would be bad blood. So I do not think Hanna or Grimar can be blamed for that.’

  Eldrid said nothing as they walked on.

  ‘Who looks after them?’ asked Silje, ‘who knows if they have food?’

  ‘Ah, they take care of themselves.’

  Silje persisted. ‘But I thought they were old, the woman anyway.’

  ‘They are both old. But we will have no dealings with them – and you will do well to heed Tengel’s words and keep away from them!’

  Tengel was waiting at the door. Eagerly he met Silje’s gaze, as though he had been waiting all day for that very moment, and it seemed to calm him.

  ‘Well, how was it? You seem disturbed,’ he said to Silje.

  ‘Is that so surprising,’ Eldrid butted in as she entered the room, ‘with that congregation? Their eyes were devouring the lass. Especially those Bratteng lads!’

  Tengel followed them in, a worried look on his face.

  ‘Do you think there is any danger?’

  ‘Well, if you ask me, someone should stay here with her,’ answered Eldrid, ‘and you are not living in the best of places at the moment either. Still, did things go well with the children?’

  ‘Sol has so much energy, she has run me ragged,’ he said with a smile, ‘and the boy has been holding concert as usual. He is sleeping just now – at last! Silje, I do not know how you have managed all this. Why did you not ask for help sooner?’
r />   ‘I would have been ashamed of myself,’ she replied. ‘Think of all those mothers with a dozen children or more – and who also live in great poverty! I am well looked after – should I not be able to take care of just two?’

  Tengel laughed, ‘I would say Sol on her own is the equal of any five!’

  Silje thought she sensed a nervousness about him. He was unsure of himself and, for the first time ever since she had met him, somehow inept. Now he avoided looking directly at her, turning away with a melancholy expression.

  Eldrid decided to take Sol with her to fetch some milk and they were left alone. They stood facing each other, neither one knowing what to say.

  Silje broke the silence, ‘Tell me what’s wrong, Tengel.’

  He didn’t answer at first, then slowly he said, ‘You should not have done that last night.’

  ‘Done what?’

  ‘When I … caressed your cheek.’

  He meant when she had kissed his hand. She looked at the floor, hoping that the bright red glow of embarrassment would be less visible. ‘I couldn’t help myself, Tengel. It just happened. And it was you who put temptation in my way.’

  Sad eyes stared at her for a few moments.

  ‘Please don’t make fun of me, Silje. I couldn’t bear it!’

  ‘I am not making fun of you at all,’ she retorted.

  ‘My dear girl, do you not think I am aware of my looks? Deformed, disfigured, like some wild animal – reviled by one and all.’

  ‘Not by me,’ her whisper was as gentle as a passing breeze.

  He stood perfectly still. He could almost have stopped breathing.

  Silje swallowed hard. ‘Surely my feelings come as no surprise to you?’

  Without a word, in one fluid movement he crouched down beside the fire and began to prod at it with a stick.

  ‘Then tell me about your dreams, Silje.’

  ‘About my – oh, you mean those.’

  ‘Yes, you say that I understand your feelings, but I don’t. It is not easy to read the difference between – well, what you once described as loyalty to me – and sympathy.’

  With some trepidation she crouched down beside him. ‘I do not know whether I dare tell. I have been brought up to be chaste, as well you know.’