“My dearest, will you let me stay with you?” he asked tenderly. “In spite of all you’ve suffered for my sake? I know for certain that I belong with you now. But remember I can’t say anything of what the future holds. I don’t believe it will happen but a man might one day awaken other feelings in me.”
Cecilie nodded slowly as she considered what he’d said. “There’s no one, man or woman, who’s married that can guarantee not to fall in love with another,” she said soberly. “Sadly, we’re all human in that respect.”
“That’s true, but in my case it would be much worse and hurt you far more.”
She nodded her head again. “And if that were to happen, what would you do then?”
“Nothing! I’d just suppress all those feelings and stay with you, of course.”
“I wouldn’t want that. But do you think it might happen?”
“No, I’m as certain as I can possibly be that it won’t.”
“And how can you be sure?”
“Because I’ve experienced something totally new to me.”
“Do you mean what happened with us that last evening?”
“No,” he said. “It’s something a lot stronger and more far-reaching.”
“What is it, Alexander?”
He looked straight into her eyes, pulled her to him and kissed her. It was a long kiss that told her more than any words could ever have done. He pulled her even closer, holding her in his powerful embrace, and when his lips finally parted from hers, he said: “I love you, Cecilie,” in a voice filled with emotion. “I suppose I’ve loved you for a long time but the sensual companionship wasn’t there – the physical side of love. But now, the love I have for you is more intense and more real than anything I’ve ever known before.”
Cecilie was smiling and wiping away her tears at the same time.
“And of course I don’t need to tell you how I feel about you!” she said.
“Yes, please do!”
“There was a time only a short while ago when my love for you was almost snuffed out. It was before I’d learned to accept what you were. But otherwise I’ve always loved you ever since – well, yes, almost since we first met.”
“Dearest Cecilie! I must have put you through so much pain!”
“I’ve been well cared for here with you. And I entered into this marriage with my eyes open. We’ve had our difficulties, but they weren’t your fault or mine.”
“Perhaps, dearest.”
She shifted herself more closely into his arms, a frown creasing her brow. “There’s only one thing I haven’t quite understood, Alexander,” she said softly. “And I’d like to try and understand.”
“And what would that be?”
She hesitated. “No, it might be too complicated to ask.”
“Surely you’re not afraid of me?”
“No, but I’m self-conscious.”
“You’ve no reason to be,” he said. “We should be open with one another. It’s important if we’re to build a bridge across the deep rift there has been between us.”
“But this is too delicate – too private!”
“I want you to tell me, Cecilie, whatever it is. I’d be delighted if I have your trust.”
She hid her face against his shoulder. “Well – how were you able to – enter me and make love to me, so unexpectedly?”
“It wasn’t so unexpected, my dearest. The second time we were together I could feel that I was ready. I still found it difficult to believe that it was happening. It was your passion, your beauty and your body that aroused me, my dear. After that, everything just happened by itself. I was completely overwhelmed.”
Cecilie knew that she was blushing. She said nothing and Alexander continued softly: “It was all that I needed to bring me back to where I once was – before my life was influenced by others – before that burden became too heavy for me to carry.”
“Yes, I think that’s how it all happened,” she agreed gently. “But these past years have been good for me, Alexander. They’ve taught me to be more tolerant. Now I’m better able to understand those who don’t conform – I’ve seen the world through their eyes and felt the malice, the stupidity and contempt they suffer from others around them. And I know just how helpless they must feel.”
“You’re absolutely right, Cecilie, and I’m an exception. There are very few who are able to change the way they are. Many are forced to live with their unusual desires and their only salvation is to accept what they are – or else they’ll find that their lives become hell on earth. They’re condemned to shame.”
Cecilie nodded in agreement. They stood holding each other for several minutes until Alexander asked: “Will you move into my room, my dear Cecilie? I have the biggest bed!”
“Gladly, my dear Alexander,” she replied smiling and ironically dropping a small curtsey. “But I’d like to keep my bedroom as a room for myself where I can have things of my own. And it’s such a pretty room.”
“Of course! Now, let’s see the look on Wilhelmsen’s face!”
“Hah! I doubt if anything will ever make him change that sad, professional expression! But do you know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think it will make him very happy.”
“I’m sure it will – not least because of his fondness for you.”
“For both of us. Oh, Alexander, I’d almost forgotten to tell you! My mother has asked us to attend my cousin’s wedding. She’s very insistent.”
“Whose wedding? Tarjei’s?”
“No, his younger brother, Brand.”
“Ah yes, I believe I met him in the field hospital. He’s only a boy and not yet of age!”
With an embarrassed grin, she said: “It’s customary among the Ice People and the Meidens to enjoy the pleasures of wedlock before marriage.”
“I see,” he said with a laugh. “And besides, if he’s old enough to be sent to war, he’s surely old enough to make love to a woman, which he apparently has! When is the marriage to take place?”
“Just before the Walpurgis Festival at the beginning of May. You’ll come too, won’t you, Alexander? To Graastensholm and Linden Avenue and see all the wonderful places I want to show you! And to meet my brother, Tarald, and Yrja whom you’ve never met – and their little son, Mattias. Here’s the letter. Read for yourself.”
Liv’s letter was neat and clearly written. Charlotte Meiden, Liv’s dear Aunt Charlotte, later to be her mother-in-law, had taught her well. Alexander could read Norwegian without any effort, and he picked it up and scanned it quickly. When he’d finished the letter, he smiled at her.
“Walpurgis? That’s quite soon, isn’t it? We really shouldn’t waste any time.”
***
Cecilie and Alexander prepared for the journey to Linden Avenue and Graastensholm with a great sense of anticipation. When they arrived just in time for the wedding, Alexander was immediately regarded as the senior guest because of his eminence. They hadn’t intended it, but as a Marquis he was far too interesting a personality for anyone to ignore. His rank and status easily surpassed that of Tarjei, Baroness Liv and Baron Dag, the Notary.
Even the shy bride and groom themselves waned next to Alexander’s stature as they stood beside this tall, elegant figure with his impressive list of titles. The bride’s father, Niklas Niklasson of Hogtun, where the wedding ceremony was held, was in a better mood because of having such an eminent guest sat at his table – and one who was now a member of the family. Some local people would ask whether he was, strictly speaking, a full member of the family? Maybe, maybe not – and they winked and quoted the old saying that said: “The tree doesn’t taste of poultry just because the bird nested in it!”
But, in spite of all the upset that his hasty actions had caused, Brand, the perspiring, crimson-faced groom, was finally met with approval among
his wife’s relatives. Matilda wouldn’t normally be thought of as the type of woman suited to the ranks of the unconventional Ice People. Yet she was splendidly plump – not only because of her condition – and seemed very well suited to becoming a farmer’s wife.
Her upbringing had obviously prepared her well for the role of wife at a young age, as she brought with her in her wedding chest eight hand towels, eight tablecloths, six table runners and so on and so forth. She had stitched and sewn everything very carefully herself. In fact, everything for Matilda had to be proper. In that way she was the ideal match for Brand, who tended to accept things just as they were with a certain laziness.
It was this fact that compelled Cecilie to make a fleeting, slightly unwelcome remark to the bride as they were standing in the wedding garden. In one of those coincidental moments when everybody stops talking, Cecilie’s embarrassing words were the ones that were left ringing in the air: “Yes, sometimes Brand’s a bit slow to get off his backside!”
But, all in all, it was a good wedding with many fine gifts for the bride and groom – and if such things were a sign of a good wedding, a considerable number of men were still sleeping off their hangovers at the roadside or in a field the following day.
Jesper, the stable boy’s son, caused some consternation when Niklas Niklasson and his good wife found him lying in their large, comfortable bed when they were about to retire after a long, tiring day. What he was, or had been, doing there remained unknown as he was too drunk to explain himself.
The next morning before everybody was awake, Cecilie and Alexander went out into the fields and pastures, walking slowly along the hedgerows hand in hand, feeling intensely happy in each other’s company. It was as if they’d grown much closer here where they both felt at home, surrounded by a throng of people – family, friends and strangers.
It was a wonderful spring day, the air was growing warmer and there was a faint green hue of young grass, sprinkled with the tiny white, nameless flowers which appeared everywhere. After returning briefly to the house for breakfast, they soon set out again, and this time they heard small, padding footsteps following them as they walked away from Graastensholm. They turned and smiled, not letting on that they would rather have been left on their own.
“Kolgrim,” said Cecilie, “I thought I recognised those distinctive little footsteps.”
He pushed between them without saying a word, and they held his hands. Now six years old, his face was certainly fascinating and everyone was struck by the amber colour of his eyes. Other than that, no one would have noticed that he was one of the Ice People’s most extraordinary people – except for those shoulders.
Just like Tengel’s shoulders before him, they were high and wide, rising to a slight upward point, like a Chinese mandarin’s coat collar. These were the shoulders that had taken the life of her first sister-in-law, Sunniva, and Cecilie knew very well that she risked the same fate if she was ever to give birth. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, and she pushed it quickly out of her mind.
They decided to walk towards Silje’s avenue of linden trees and as they went, Alexander chatted with Kolgrim. During the conversation, they were both struck by the boy’s obvious antipathy towards his dad, Tarald. He also seemed only to tolerate Yrja and talked a lot about his little brother, Mattias. But when he did, they got the impression that he was possibly fishing for something, trying to discover what they thought of his angelic sibling.
Cecilie still felt that she was the only one in the family who really understood Kolgrim. Nothing he said that morning made her change her decision not to put too much trust in his apparently changed good nature. Cecilie told herself: “If I’m blessed with children of my own, I’ll never allow them anywhere near their strange cousin.”
She reached this conclusion because she felt they would be especially vulnerable, with Kolgrim openly worshipping her and wanting no rivals for her affection. Kolgrim seemed to have nothing against his grandparents, Dag and Liv, and Cecilie was grateful for that as she adored her parents. She didn’t believe that Brand and Matilda’s child would have anything to fear from Kolgrim, but she wasn’t so sure about his attitude towards Mattias. Thank God that all seems well at present between the two brothers, she thought for a moment as she clutched Kolgrim’s hand so hard that he looked surprised and hurt.
They had arrived at the avenue of linden trees and were strolling towards the house, with Kolgrim skipping between them. The tree-lined drive still had a majestic feel to it, and Cecilie felt that she could well understand why as a girl Silje had always dreamed of living at the end of such a splendid avenue.
“There are only three of Tengel’s linden trees left here now,” Cecilie said pensively. “One is my dad Dag’s, one is my mum Liv’s and one is Are’s.”
“Which ones are they?” asked Alexander, who’d heard the story of the trees long ago.
“I don’t know which is which, but they’re the three oldest ones, the very big ones,” she said, right there at the top of the avenue.”
They walked slowly in that direction, enjoying the morning and the panorama of the landscape spread out around them.
“I think one of them looks weakened,” said Cecilie anxiously as they drew nearer. “Look at all this lying on the ground! Branches, bark and buds ...”
“It’s probably just the work of some very active squirrels,” said Alexander gently as he tried to calm her fears.
“You think so? Yes, you’re probably right.”
They didn’t linger beneath the trees but walked on more quickly. Cecilie decided that she wouldn’t try to find out whose tree it was. But she couldn’t forget the piles of natural debris strewn on the ground and the sad air of the sagging branches of the tree above.
As they entered the yard at the end of the avenue, Cecilie said: “That’s the old house where Tengel and Silje once lived. Tarjei lives there now. Let’s go over and see him.”
“Have your family lived here for a long time?” Alexander asked.
“Not really. I was born here, up at Graastensholm. But otherwise, I think they came in the year when Uncle Are was born. That must have been around 1586. Mum was born before they came here.”
“So where did they live before?”
“That’s a bit of a mystery. It’s said they lived in a valley in Trondelag – the Valley of the Ice People, they called it. But outsiders called it “a nest of witches and warlocks,” I think.”
Kolgrim was listening to every detail, his serious face showing that he was taking it all in very carefully and storing it away in his memory.
“It was there that the first Tengel – Tengel the Evil – is said to have sworn a pact with Satan,” she continued. “At least somewhere quite close by.”
“Aha, yes! The pot that he buried is supposed to have contained the spell he used to bring forth the Evil One, isn’t that it?” asked Alexander. “I remember you telling me about it some time ago.”
“Yes – Grandma Silje kept a journal of her years in the valley.”
“That would be very interesting to read some time,” said Alexander.
Cecilie smiled. “You’re right. But I think it will be hard work. Grandma Silje was a lovely person, but she didn’t have much schooling. But I’ll ask mum where the journal is. I’ve never seen it. Maybe it’s been thrown away.”
“I hope not. That would be a great shame.”
They arrived at the house and opened the door to the empty, echoing hallway of Linden Avenue.
“Look at that mosaic!” Alexander exclaimed, evidently impressed. “It’s bound to be very valuable.”
“I’m sure you’re right. A church painter gave it to Silje many years ago. She was very fond of it and it was one of the very few things they brought here from that other time ...”
While she was still speaking and they were looking together at the mosaic, a figure came quietly into
the room behind them.
“Good morning,” said Tarjei when they turned round. “You’re all out very early!”
“So you’ve slept off the worst of last night’s fun,” joked Cecilie, smiling. “I hope we didn’t wake you?”
He grinned back at them in response. “I always drink very modestly. I’m not a man for parties by any means. And I’ve been awake for a long time. Have you been admiring our family portraits, Alexander? I’m afraid you’ll find them far less impressive than yours.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Alexander replied. “I’m fascinated by this picture.”
“That’s my grandma,” Kolgrim announced proudly. “She was a witch!”
“I can believe that,” Alexander shivered. “And her name was Sol, wasn’t it?”
The boy nodded happily.
“I can see, Cecilie, that you resemble her quite a lot,” said Alexander, still gazing thoughtfully at the portrait. After a moment, he turned to look down at Kolgrim. “Sol was truly beautiful, Kolgrim, wasn’t she? Someone to be very proud of!”
‘Thank you, Alexander, for that indirect compliment,’ thought Cecilie. She looked again at the striking picture herself and found she couldn’t take her eyes off Silje’s depiction of Sol’s strong, sensual face. And in that same instant, without giving any indication, Kolgrim had chosen Alexander as his favourite.
“She could make magic,” Kolgrim said loudly.
Alexander smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard about that.”
“So can I!”
Cecilie said very cautiously: “Don’t be so silly, Kolgrim!”
The boy’s eyes turned a clear yellow as he gazed back at them in turn.
“Yes, I can. I can!”
“I believe you,” Alexander said swiftly, “and so does Cecilie. She only wanted to tease you a little bit.”
The glow in the boy’s eyes dulled as he watched Alexander carry on along the row of portraits.
“And this is Dag, the blonde-haired one,” Tarjei chuckled. “There isn’t much left of the blonde hair now.”
Friendship Page 23