After waiting a few more minutes, they plucked up courage to cross. Then, half-running and dragging Knut between them, they set off.
“River’s high and flowing fast,” shouted Kaleb when they were in the middle of the bridge. “It must be spring in Norway!” The three of them laughed joyfully.
Kaleb urged them onwards, up the ridges on the eastern side of the river. He was trying to move them as quickly as possible away from Kongsberg because in that area nearly everybody depended in some way or other on the mine. True, they might have found help and understanding from some of the people in the town who would undoubtedly be shocked by their appearance, but they had no way of knowing who they could trust. So, understandably, they ran and continued to run.
Halfway up one steep slope, Knut suddenly stopped and stood still. “I can feel something strange ... and warm on my face!” he said in an ecstatic voice. “And it’s so bright. So bright! Is it ... could it be?”
“Yes, Knut. It’s the sun,” said Kaleb, stopping beside him.
“Daylight! A new day!” He paused, his voice also breaking with emotion. “We’re standing together at last beneath the wide-open sky, and the sun is really and truly coming up!”
In fact, the sun was now so bright that Mattias and Kaleb were squinting. They lifted their hands to shade their eyes as they looked around.
“Is it really the sun? Honestly?” asked Knut as he sank to his knees, overcome with emotion. “I still can’t honestly believe it!”
Instinctively, the other two boys did likewise, and the three of them kneeled down side by side, facing the sun. Mattias and Knut joined their hands before their chests as though in prayer.
At last all three of them wept unashamedly together for joy.
Chapter 5
They trudged through woodlands and forests, higher and higher, to those places that were hidden from the sun’s rays and the ground was still covered with snow. Being free high in the mountains after being trapped and imprisoned in the bowels of the earth for so long was making each of them in their different ways feel a little light-headed. They were elated, yet they found it difficult to put it all into words.
“We were down there a long time, weren’t we?” commented Kaleb as they walked.
“Yeah,” replied Knut. “Mattias almost two years. You were four, Kaleb, and me ... five long years of hell! We’re the only ones that lasted that many years. I’ve seen many boys come down there and get killed. No one has ever got away before. No one but us!”
They laughed out loud at their good fortune but that laughter was tinged with sadness for all those who would never see the light of day again. Then Mattias brought them back to their senses and the present with one very simple question.
“Where are we?” he asked.
They stopped and looked around to take in their surroundings. What they didn’t know was that they were heading too far north, and that if they continued as they were, they’d end up where they didn’t want to be in the region of Sigdal. None of them knew where Christiania lay in relation to Kongsberg. From where they stood, they couldn’t see Sigdal or any signs of towns or villages.
As they looked about, Kaleb spotted something useful. “D’you see that rooftop high on that ridge ahead?”
Mattias followed his gaze. “Yes, I do.”
“I think it’s a shepherd’s hut. Let’s try and reach it. Will you make it, Knut?” wondered Kaleb.
“I can do anything now!”
His two friends smiled but were far from convinced of that. They’d rested longer and more often while his bouts of coughing grew worse, and each time his feet were bleeding more than before. Mattias always bandaged them up again as best he could, and he knew Knut wasn’t about to give up.
Little Mattias himself had survived the mine remarkably well. Like the others, he was covered in scars and sores, and he’d fallen ill several times, suffering from a severe attack of bronchitis on one occasion. But the blood of the hardy Ice People ran in his veins, and it had served him well – a legacy passed down to him from Tarald, his dad, and Liv, his grandmother, daughter of the most revered of all the Ice People, Tengel the Good. Tengel’s strength and endurance, courage and human kindness were all alive in Mattias as it was in all his forebears. The men and women were all of equal merit – Mattias’s mother Yrja and his granddad, Dag Meiden, Dag’s mum, Charlotte Meiden and of course, great-grandmother Silje. It was hardly surprising then that Mattias had grown to become such a fine young boy.
Kaleb was strong, very strong. He’d endured his four years underground without too many injuries. Stones and rocks had fallen on him, leaving their mark, and his hands were badly scarred. Almost all his fingernails were missing too, but these were relatively trivial things.
All three boys knew that the only reason they’d managed to overcome privation in the raw dark chill of that underground hellhole was the support they’d given each other. When one of them had been hurt, or felt unable to go on, the others had always showed consideration and provided help and comfort. Most importantly in that type of work, they watched each other’s backs and reminded one another to always be careful. At the moment they were still not quite able to believe their good luck in being free.
By the time they reached the hut, the day was drawing to its close. Shadows were lengthening and it was obvious that they’d made a good decision to head there.
“Can we really go inside?” wondered Mattias as he watched Kaleb open the door.
“There’s no bad deed when a man’s in need!” quipped Kaleb. “We need a roof over our heads by nightfall and there won’t be anybody coming up here this time of the year. Look, there are no tracks in that patch of snow – and the barn’s empty. They’ve taken the winter feed for this year and it looks like the winter wood’s been felled.”
Inside the hut they found firewood and tinder, four salted hams and two dried legs of lamb hanging from the rafters. There were also bowls of flour and many other useful provisions.
“I don’t think they’ll be angry if we take a bit of the food,” Kaleb told the other two. “People often take shelter in shepherd’s huts when they’re lost and such.”
“And we’ll pay them back as soon as we come home,” added Mattias, keen to do the right and honest thing.
“That would be good,” agreed Kaleb.
They started a fire and Kaleb heated up water in a large pot. One by one they stood in it, scrubbing themselves clean with some lye and birch twigs. Then they wrapped themselves in the fur bedspreads from the bunks and waited for their freshly washed scraps of clothing to dry in front of the hearth. Once they were clean, warm and dry, they helped themselves to some of the food. They began to relax, chatting and laughing as they ate their first proper meal in a long time.
“So, Mattias, that’s what you look like under all that black,” said Kaleb jokingly. “I’d never have known you had red hair.”
Knut grinned. “I’d always thought you were a lost angel, Mattias. But not any more. There’s no such thing as an angel with red hair!”
“Do you mean you can see me?” Mattias chirped.
“Nah! I can make out where you’re sitting, and when you move. Not much more,” Knut replied.
“It’ll get better, you wait and see,” Mattias comforted him. “Eat lots of fat. Tarjei always says so. It’s good for the eyes. Tarjei knows all about such things. He’ll cure all your ills, as soon as we get home.”
“The cough, too?”
“Of course – everything!”
Kaleb lowered his gaze so that Mattias wouldn’t see the distress and compassion in his eyes. It was clear he had a greater insight into the severity of Knut’s illnesses than the younger boy.
Unaware of this, Mattias turned his attention to Kaleb.
“And you’re so fair-haired, Kaleb! That wasn’t easy to see underground. And you’re a grown
-up, too!” he laughed.
“Oh, well! Seventeen isn’t all that grown up.”
Mattias was admiring the rippling muscles on Kaleb’s bare arms. His eyes were astonishingly blue and he had a strong yet compassionate expression. In time, he’d grow a blond moustache and beard but for the moment he could boast no more than a light-coloured adolescent fluff on his upper lip and chin.
Knut, on the other hand, was a pitiful sight. His light-brown hair had fallen out in large tufts and his face was covered in scabby sores. The half-blind eyes were lifeless and his sunken chest a sign of how drained his body had become. Rheumatism had made the boy’s knees swell while his hands and feet were covered in cuts and sores, some open right down to the bone and frightening to look at. His ill health took many forms and Mattias began to realise that Tarjei would have a hard job helping his friend.
“Ugh! Look at the colour of our skin!” Knut sighed, changing the focus of their thoughts. “Grey with black lines! Will we ever be clean again?”
“Oh, yes,” Kaleb assured him. “We just need to wash and scrub off a couple more times with lye and that should do it.”
“Thanks,” said Knut. “But I’d rather have some skin left. You scrubbed enough to take it off in shreds.”
“It was no less than you deserved,” teased Kaleb, “and I bet not a louse nor a flea came out alive!”
In a happy mood and with their stomachs full, they all went to bed, savouring freedom for the first time in a long while. Mattias lay awake quietly in the darkness, wondering what his homecoming would be like. Knut for his part had a restless night. The effort of the escape and long trek up to the hut had taken its toll. In fact, none of the boys got much sleep. Kaleb and Mattias took turns in watching over Knut and it wasn’t until just before sunrise that he finally fell into a deep sleep.
While the inside of the hut grew warmer in the spring sunshine, Kaleb and Mattias made a makeshift bed on an old sled they’d found outside, and when Knut woke up, they helped him walk unsteadily to it so that he could continue resting comfortably in the fresh healing air.
Knut thought it was wonderful. With the sun shining down on him, he closed his unseeing eyes, lay back and took pleasure in every minute.
The three stayed at the hut for several days to allow Knut to recover his strength. It had become clear to Mattias and Kaleb that it would have been unforgivable to continue their journey when his health was so poor. Very soon the warm spring sunshine had given all of them a healthy-looking tan and Knut seemed to be improving with every day spent resting in the fresh air.
Mattias never told the others how frustrated he was becoming with the delay. He sat on the sled talking with Knut for hours at a time, imagining all the things they were going to do as soon as he was well again. It never crossed Mattias’s mind that they should go on without their sick friend. Such a thought was beyond him.
At every opportunity he assured Knut that he was looking much better, and Knut agreed, saying that he felt stronger and hadn’t been coughing so badly during the nights. He could feel the sores on his hands had almost healed, and Mattias agreed that they’d improved. Kaleb listened to them but said nothing. He couldn’t hide the sadness within him and it showed in his eyes. He’d seen the relentless progress of consumption before and recognised the bright crimson colour of Knut’s cheeks.
“I’m so happy,” sighed Knut. “I never thought it would happen – this is like a dream come true. Feel the sun, Mattias! Can you feel how warm it is?” And every time he said it, little Mattias shared his friend’s happiness.
The sun-drenched days grew longer. Easter had come and gone but the boys neither knew nor cared. They were so appreciative of every passing moment of freedom that little else mattered. But eventually Mattias and Kaleb began to feel restless.
“It’ll be time to be getting on in a couple of days, I reckon,” Kaleb told them quietly one evening. “What do you say, Knut?”
“I’ll be fine.”
But the fine weather broke the following day. It became overcast, the temperature dropped and intermittent clouds appeared.
“There’s a storm coming, I think,” said Kaleb. “We’d better get Knut inside.”
“Yes,” Mattias agreed. “Listen to the wind, Kaleb. Hear how it moans and cries in the trees.”
“That’s what it always does,” answered the older boy. “Maybe it’s trying to tell us that it’s time to move on.”
Although the air had grown colder, the sun was still shining brightly and Knut told them he wanted to enjoy the mild spring breeze on his skin a little while longer. So they left him outside, and in that peaceful place, wrapped warmly in the fur bedspreads and bathed in spring sunlight, the young boy drew his last breath.
When his friends came out of the hut to say something to him, they found him gazing sightlessly up at his beloved sun with a contented smile on his lips.
They buried Knut in a small clearing in the woods nearby and marked his grave with a simple cross. They didn’t carry out an elaborate ritual but showed their friend the respect he deserved and honoured his brave battle against adversity with their silent thoughts.
“It’s so unfair,” sniffed Mattias afterwards. “Just when he was beginning to get well again.”
Kaleb put his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder as they walked away. “Knut was never going to get well again, Mattias,” he said sadly. “He was already dying down in the mine. I could see it.”
“And still you brought him with us?”
“Would you have left him behind if you had known?”
“No!” answered Mattias. “I would have wanted to get him out even sooner.”
“That’s what I thought too. We had to hurry for his sake. And you had to get out because you didn’t belong there anyway. As for me, well I’m grown now. They couldn’t let me out because I might stir up trouble for them and that meant I was in danger of having an ‘accident’ down there. And besides, I wanted to enjoy something in this wretched life before I leave it, do you see?”
“Yes,” said Mattias, overcome by the solemnity of the situation. “You’re a good person, Kaleb.”
***
The next morning, they left the shepherd’s hut, but not before Mattias had written a note, which he left clearly visible in the middle of the table. Kaleb could neither read nor write and Mattias was hardly competent because his schooling had been cut short when he was only eight.
Dear Mistr Owner. Sorry we ett up harf of the mete and Kaleb has baakd bread with the flour but we needed to for Knut was dying and he did dy owt in the sun so we buryed him in the clearing. Please put sum flours on his grave when ther are sum growing here and pleez can a parson say sum verss. We want to pay for wat we took and my dad will do that. Our address is Graastensholm farm. Graastensholm parrish. Akeshus. Thenk you very much and we are sory.
Mattias Meiden.
He read the note aloud for Kaleb, then asked: “Does that sound good enough, do you think?”
“Absolutely,” said Kaleb. “You’ve done well.”
They cleaned and tidied the hut properly before they left and secured the door as best they could.
“I don’t know where Graastensholm is,” Kaleb admitted, “but Akershus is near Oslo, isn’t it?”
“Christiania you mean ... Yes, it is.”
“Oh, yes, Christiana,” sighed Kaleb. “We’ll just have to guess which way to go. I reckon we should carry on as we did before and then ask the way. Sooner or later we’ll meet up with people.”
“Do you think Hauber and Nermarken will be chasing after us?”
“Nah! Not this far from the mine. They’ll be very scared though!”
Mattias nodded. For once he felt no compassion towards either Hauber or Nermarken. He’d decided that nothing could excuse what they’d done to Knut.
For several days the two boys walked
through wilderness without seeing the slightest sign of people. Mattias was losing heart. It seemed as if some evil power was doing all it could to stop him from returning home. Ever since that day he’d woken up alone in the tiny rowing boat, surrounded by sea with his future uncertain, it felt as though the fates had conspired against him. This was the closest he’d come to finding his way back and they weren’t even sure if they were heading in the right direction. What if they were travelling away from Graastensholm instead?
He thought fearfully that maybe they were walking back towards the mine and would find Hauber waiting for them over the next ridge.
The mere thought of that happening made Mattias tremble. He and Kaleb huddled close together for warmth to sleep in whatever sheltered spot they could find among the trees, but still woke up stiff with cold. The weather had changed and there were now days when the sun hardly shone at all. One morning they were surprised to wake and find a thin layer of snow covering the ground. For a time the forest was filled with that strange echoing silence that fresh snow always brings with it, but as the day wore on the snow melted away.
What the two boys didn’t know was that they’d been following a high, wide, densely wooded ridge and it had cost them several wasted days. Eventually, however, their vague wanderings brought them to a long valley where they could see some cottages.
The small flat loaves that Kaleb had baked with the flour back at the hut were long since gone. They were so hungry that they could have eaten their own shoe leather – if they’d possessed any shoes. Their feet were bound only with strips of rag tied off at the ankles.
They made their way reluctantly to the nearest cottage, knocked on the door and asked the woman of the house if she could spare a cup of milk for them – or anything. In the same breath, they asked for directions to Graastensholm.
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