The town garrison had already been told of the irregulars near Löwenstein and they’d begun marching towards the castle when they met the young rider Tarjei had sent back. On hearing the boy’s news, the Count had pressed his men onward at an even faster pace.
Now the mercenaries tried to turn back into the castle courtyard but this time one of the servants had been very quick on the uptake and dropped the portcullis, trapping a confused bunch of troops on the bridge. Many chose to jump into the moat, and few were left alive after the encounter. There were still a small number of stragglers inside the castle – men who’d been too far away to hear the warning shouts of their comrades.
Tarjei had almost reached Cornelia’s hiding place when he heard a bad tempered woman’s voice and this time there was no mistake. This was Cornelia at her best – or maybe her worst.
“You keep your hairy arms to yourself, you monkey!” she was shouting in a tone that would have been ice-cold with contempt had her voice not risen in anger to a falsetto pitch. “Do you honestly think that I’d let something as ugly and dirty as you lay a hand on me? And that goes for you, too!” she added in an even sharper tone. “Your mother must have been serviced by a boar to give birth to you, you deformed wretch!”
‘Good God!’ thought Tarjei as he approached the door behind which he could hear her voice. ‘It’s a good job that the polite Aunt Juliana is in the tower and can’t hear any of this.’
He didn’t stop at the door but flung it open and stormed in without thinking, ready to protect a damsel in distress. They say that fortune favours the brave, but in this case it favoured the fool. He was still carrying the heavy bardiche and he rushed headlong into the antechamber, swinging the weapon recklessly back and forth in front of him in an alarming way.
The two soldiers – who were neither ugly nor deformed – fled from the room in an instant when they caught sight of Tarjei. But it was sounds from the bridge below rather than fear of Tarjei that made them withdraw rapidly. This minor detail was of no importance to Cornelia, who saw in him her hero and she immediately threw herself straight into his arms.
“Oh, Tarjei, Tarjei. You came! I just knew you would!”
‘What awful melodramatics!’ he thought to himself, slightly irritated by her, but now that the danger was over, he was finding the situation quite funny.
He was about to speak, but was suddenly stopped by the unexpected closeness of Cornelia’s embrace. She wasted no time in taking full advantage of the moment, and with instinctive female cunning she made Tarjei think that he was the one who’d kissed her and not the other way round. Women have known how to use such glorious deceptions since mankind took its first steps, and Cornelia wasn’t about to waste such a golden opportunity.
Tarjei was far from an unwilling partner. The preoccupied scientist and scholar had never imagined that anything could be as heavenly as this. Now their lips had met, he couldn’t bring himself to end it and Cornelia was certainly not one to deny herself a pleasure like this either - but he was dragged reluctantly back from his flight of passion by the sound of a voice he couldn’t ignore.
“Well, well. What have we here?” asked Commander-in-Chief Georg Ludwig Eberhardsson of Löwenstein and Scharffeneck.
Tarjei gasped in horror and disentangled himself from Cornelia’s artful embrace.
“Oh, uncle!” she squealed enthusiastically. “Tarjei has compromised me! But like the true nobleman he is, his intentions were honourable, of course!”
“Now just wait a minute,” said Tarjei, taken by surprise. “Let’s reflect on what exactly happened here ...”
“Of course, you’ll ask for my hand, Tarjei, won ‘t you?” she prompted in a loud whisper. “That’s unavoidable now.”
“Your hand! Certainly not!”
“What? ” Cornelia gulped for air while her uncle watched their antics with a broad, amused grin.
Tarjei had regained his composure. “Stubborn young ladies make stubborn wives,” he told her.
For once in her life, Cornelia looked utterly helpless and vulnerable. Not even Tarjei, it seemed, wanted her. Her face had become a study in childish disappointment and rejection. Without Cornelia realising it, this was far more effective than all her determined arguments. At that moment, Tarjei’s heart softened and he touched her cheek gently with one hand.
“I didn’t mean to say that, Cornelia,” he apologised hastily. “I was only mocking you.” Then, thinking he was definitely going to be rebuffed, he turned to her uncle. “Sir, may I respectfully request the honour of your young ward’s hand in marriage?”
But to his amazement, the Count didn’t respond as he’d anticipated. He’d just seen with his own eyes how Tarjei was one of the few people able to keep a rein on Cornelia, in part at least. He was a man with prospects and his name had a certain aristocratic ring to it. Most importantly, he was entirely honourable. So, why not? There was no way out for Tarjei now.
***
The young couple was deeply in love and at first their life together was blissfully happy. Tarjei no longer worked into the small hours as he had done before they were married. Instead he hurried home because he wanted so desperately to be with Cornelia whenever possible. Even in his wildest dreams he’d never imagined that life could be so sweet, especially since he’d often watched and wondered at the seemingly strange behaviour of his fellow human beings who’d fallen in love. Then Cornelia became pregnant and it seemed that there was no limit to their happiness. In fact, it took quite a long time before he came to realise how dominated, some would say subjugated, he’d become.
Then in the autumn of 1634, Tarjei was handed a letter. It had been sent from Norway in the late summer of 1633 and contained the shocking news that little Mattias had disappeared. Tarjei was heartbroken and sat down to write a reply, saying that he’d come home immediately. Then he went to tell Cornelia the news.
“Cornelia, I’m sorry to say I have to travel home most urgently,” he said. “A young relative of mine has gone missing and I must know if he’s been found and give comfort to his parents. They’re my cousins.”
But of course another thought was also preying on his mind: Mattias was due to have inherited the treasures of the Ice People. If Mattias was gone, who was left for Tarjei to choose from? There was no doubt that the matter was extremely urgent.
Cornelia flew into a furious rage. How could he think of leaving her now when she was due to give birth in a few short months? Was he thinking of nobody but himself as usual?
By now, she’d shown herself to be uncompromising in many other ways. They lived in the castle because she didn’t like the idea of moving into a ‘wretched physician’s house.’ She bathed in his reflected glory now that he was gaining recognition, but didn’t want him to spend his days at work – his place was with her. When he was busy with a project, she would insist that he attend outings she’d arranged and which they ‘simply had to take.’ She had even pretended that she was ill in order to manipulate him, but adopted another strategy when she found that her husband had an uncanny knack of diagnosing sickness – or more importantly feigned sickness – very quickly.
Cornelia also enjoyed making Tarjei jealous for no other reason than to see how he reacted. Then when it suited her, she’d pretend to be jealous of him, and took great pleasure in hearing him explain how she had no reason to question his fidelity. She often started minor lovers’ quarrels just to delight in being reconciled afterwards. But Tarjei always had to be the first to make amends, even though she’d started the argument for no reason other than a fanciful whim. When at last he’d begged for forgiveness, she was cuddly and affectionate as a kitten, telling him that nobody on earth could be as perfectly happy as they were. As always, Tarjei would relax and slowly his nerves would settle down again – but it took longer and longer each time.
He attributed her behaviour to her impending motherhood. But deep dow
n he knew all too well that this was the real Cornelia, just as she’d been the first time they met when she was nothing more than a child. She’d been just as self-assured and obstinate then as she was now.
So after having talked the matter over with Cornelia, Tarjei changed his reply to the letter from home. Instead he wrote that Cornelia’s pregnancy made it impossible for him to leave her and how he hoped with all his heart that Mattias had come back to them by now. He assured them of his sympathy and told them he’d be thinking of them all, day and night. He asked them to please write again as soon as they could.
Although he’d written letters home previously to tell them of his marriage to Cornelia and the baby they were expecting, he had no way of knowing whether or not they’d been received. However, on this occasion the postal services were swift and he soon received a reply from his dad, Are. The letter had been written with great self-control, but even so Tarjei was deeply upset when he read it.
The letter said that Mattias hadn’t been found. Yrja had become terribly sluggish and lethargic because she could find no joy in life any more. The letter added that Kolgrim was the one who helped them a lot so now everybody at Graastensholm put their trust in him. After all the violent arguments and suspicions when Mattias first went missing, emotions had calmed down and Tarald and Yrja now treated Kolgrim as their only son. Yet heartache still lingered in every corner of Graastensholm.
It hardly seemed possible but the letter said that things were becoming even worse at Linden Avenue. On top of the grief of losing Mattias, Meta had fallen seriously ill. Was it possible for Tarjei to come soon, his dad asked? They were putting their faith in him because there was nobody else to ask.
Only now it was much more difficult for Tarjei to leave. The baby was due in only a few weeks’ time and Cornelia had been feeling poorly – although her every symptom was grotesquely exaggerated. He quickly made up his mind that he’d travel home as soon as the baby was born no matter what Cornelia said because he was beginning to feel very worried indeed. Although he didn’t have very much in common with Meta, she was, after all, his mother, and he loved her dearly. Then there was poor little Mattias, of course, who’d always made him feel so happy and at ease. All in all, Tarjei felt that it was almost too much to take in.
Cornelia said nothing about his plans to leave after the baby was born. In fact, Cornelia said nothing about anything ever again. At the very moment that Tarjei’s son came into the world, his mother departed from it as quickly and as quietly as a candle being snuffed out. Despite all his skills as a physician, Tarjei could do nothing. Her life simply slipped through his fingers and he never knew why. He could do no more than guess that his Cornelia had a weak heart.
It wasn’t until after her death that Tarjei understood just how much he’d loved her. Her impertinent babble, her humour, the gentle touch of her hands and the way her arms so willingly and frequently wrapped around him in a lazy embrace. She could certainly be arrogant and manipulative at times but always, he reminded himself, she acted out of love for him.
As he pondered all these things in his deep sadness, he also gradually came to realise that in time Cornelia would almost certainly have destroyed his willpower. She would have watched his scientific pursuits fall to pieces without remorse provided he continued to love her loyally – and she would almost certainly have turned him into a disillusioned and embittered man. Yet despite realising all this, he remained inconsolable. It was Cornelia’s Aunt Juliana who sustained him.
“Go home to your family, Tarjei,” she said softly. “Go back home and take care of your ailing mother! You mustn’t allow yourself to mourn any longer. It’ll be your ruin. Cornelia has been laid to rest and I promise to take good care of your little son while you’re away.”
She paused before asking: “Have you given any thought to what his name will be?”
Tarjei reacted with a little expression of shocked realisation. He’d barely had time to look at the child since his birth and he realised he’d neglected him.
“His name? I don’t know. Mikael, I think, approximately after my dear mother, Meta – and Cornelius of course. Mikael Cornelius ... Yes! Those will be his names.”
“Very well!” said Juliana. “Then I’ll wish you a safe journey back home. You were a good man for Cornelia. She was happy right to the end, and she didn’t suffer at her death.”
Tarjei left shortly afterwards, leaving his grief behind him but feared that new sorrows lay ahead. Aboard the ship, as it fought its way across the open waters of the Kattegat, he lay listening to the wind whining as it tugged and beat at the rigging and the sails. The jarring sounds echoed his deep-seated conflict of emotions until eventually they seemed to swamp his consciousness. Was the noise coming from within him – or was nature’s harsh chorus a reflection of his own torment?
Until the ship set sail, he’d not found time to think much about his newborn son, Mikael Cornelius Lind of the Ice People. Now he tried to remember how he looked ... He had dark hair, of course, like both his parents. It was thick and black but with a tinge of the copper-brown that Silje’s auburn hair had contributed to the family and was still stubbornly making its appearance among her descendants. This was unusual because Tengel’s colouring, the jet-black hair and swarthy features of the Ice People, should have dominated. Dag’s and Meta’s blonde hair and blue eyes had little chance of making their mark on the following generations.
Like any newborn baby, Mikael’s face was largely devoid of character and had no distinguishing features that he could recall. He regretted now that he hadn’t spent more time cradling the boy in his arms, showing him from the start how much love he truly felt for him. Throughout his life, Tarjei realised, Mikael Cornelius would only ever have the love of one genuine parent due to the unfortunate circumstances of his birth. Growing drowsy in his cabin berth, Tarjei vowed quietly to himself that he’d never forget this and would always do his best to compensate for Cornelia’s absence. But as he fell into a troubled sleep, he wondered how he could care adequately for a young child on his own.
***
Tarjei returned to Linden Avenue on a dark and rainy day in April 1635. He arrived too late for him to do anything to save his mother because her condition had deteriorated and now she was beyond help. Nevertheless, she was delighted at seeing him again and his presence filled her with fresh hope. She was absolutely certain that her Tarjei could work wonders.
While he comforted her and made her final days free from pain, he contemplated the life that was ebbing away from the tiny frail body lying in that bed. Meta, born to a village whore, had grown up unhappy and alone. Rescued by Sol in the countryside in faraway Scania and brought back home, she’d become a good, well-respected, hardworking farmer’s wife at Linden Avenue where she’d borne three sons. Two of them had done well – one as a farmer and the other as a man of science – while the third, Trond, whom she’d also worshipped, had succumbed to the enduring curse of the Ice People.
Meta died shortly after Tarjei’s arrival. It was as if she’d been waiting to see him before she passed away. Her funeral was a magnificent affair and everything she could have wished for. It wasn’t until it was over that Tarjei felt able to address the tragic matter of Mattias. After he’d been told the whole sorry tale, short as it was, because nobody knew what had really happened that day, he went to speak to his Aunt Liv and Uncle Dag.
“I must choose a new heir to the Ice People’s secret treasures,” he said distractedly. “And I’d thought ...”
“Ssh” Liv said quietly, even though she knew that everyone was working in the fields. “Don’t say the name out loud!”
“Why not?” Tarjei frowned. “What do you mean?”
Liv told him of the ominous conversation two years before when Tarald had received Tarjei’s letter and spoken openly of Mattias being chosen for the inheritance.
“We’ve always suspected that Kolgrim g
reatly resented Mattias being chosen to inherit the occult treasures instead of him. It’s just possible that this is the reason why the little boy’s disappeared. And while such misgivings are too terrible to be spoken of, I owe it to you to share them with you now.”
Tarjei was taken aback. “Good God! You don’t mean to say that ...?” he paused as the realisation dawned on him. Then he went on: “Yes, I agree it was terribly stupid of me to write to Tarald. I should have remembered that he’s not the wisest or most reliable person here.”
Tarjei fell into a silent reverie. Was this the reason that Kolgrim had been so anxious to pander to him at every possible moment since his return to Linden Avenue? Wherever Tarjei went, the fourteen-year-old would appear, bright-eyed, polite and offering to help with anything.
A cold shiver ran through Tarjei at the thought. He’d seen at first hand what the Ice People’s curse could do to a person. Now he had no doubt that Kolgrim was also afflicted – even though he’d not yet shown any signs of having supernatural powers.
And what about Kolgrim himself? He had been waiting impatiently for Tarjei to come home since Mattias disappeared. What was Kolgrim thinking about now? He’d almost reconciled himself to the fact that he was unlikely to become the officially chosen heir to that which he most desired. Instead he’d watch Tarjei, observe his every move, listen to his every word in order to try to work out where the treasure, which he so greatly desired, was hidden. He’d already taken an interest in Tarjei’s travelling chest and its intriguing contents – but that couldn’t be everything! No, the object of his dreams and desires lay somewhere close, perhaps under his very nose. That was the prize, he was certain, which would give him the power that he knew was rightfully his.
***
Tarjei stayed at Linden Avenue all through that spring. Juliana wrote to say that Mikael Cornelius was well and he shouldn’t worry about the boy. It would be best for him to rest, she said. He’d worked so hard for the past few years and losing Cornelia and his mother so soon after each other must have been very hard to bear. Tarjei found it impossible to disagree with her. He was not only completely exhausted but also extremely sad.
Evil Legacy Page 4