Evil Legacy

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Evil Legacy Page 15

by Margit Sandemo


  Once the initial shyness had worn off they began to play and run happily about like wild things, untroubled by the burial service taking place at the nearby church.

  Yet whenever Kaleb spoke, they obeyed him. In their eyes, he was nearly a grown man and with his natural sense of calm, he’d made a very good impression on them. When he saw they were becoming unruly or wandering too far away, all he needed to do was raise his voice a little.

  For him it was a bit like watching over a flock of chickens.

  Tengel’s fourth generation of descendants were, in fact, nearly all boys: Kolgrim, Mattias, Andreas, Mikael and Tancred. Kolgrim was no more and Tarjei’s baby son, Mikael, was a long, long way away in a foreign country.

  The only girl in this generation was Gabriella, Tancred’s twin sister.

  In his mind’s eye, Kaleb soon built a picture of the four who were with him.

  There was a baron, a marquis, a marquise and a young landed gentleman.

  Of course, he already knew the baron, Mattias. Andreas, the landed gentleman, was at present a sturdy eight-year-old who played mostly by himself, smiling confidently as he slid down the handrail of the entrance steps, watching the wild games of the other children with a visible calmness.

  Cecilie and Alexander’s twins had two very different personalities. Tancred was everywhere at once – swift, daring and with an unmistakable twinkle in his dark eyes. His hair, too, had grown dark to hide its original copper-red colour, which was now only visible as a shimmer in the sunlight.

  Little Gabriella, seven years old like her brother, stayed close to Kaleb. She had a doll with her, which she placed on the step near where he sat. She used an exquisite lace handkerchief as bed linen and she ‘put it to bed.’ Then she’d look up at to make sure that Kaleb was still in his place.

  Her hair was completely straight and plaited into two long braids. These kept on falling forward into the doll’s bed but she patiently threw them back over her shoulder, time after time. Her jet-black hair and dark brown eyes had obviously been passed down from the Paladin side of the family.

  While all this was going on, Mattias walked up and sat down next to them.

  “Mum said that nobody has said a bad word about Kolgrim,” he told them thoughtfully. “And she thinks that’s nice of them. Everyone says he was the most unfortunate in all the family and that he couldn’t help what he did. I think that’s true. Kolgrim was kind, really.”

  Kaleb didn’t quite know what to say to that so he mumbled something indistinct.

  There was silence for a moment before Mattias continued: “And Brand and Matilda say that Tarjei’s last word before he died was “Cornelia” and that he smiled happily. Matilda thinks that he’s met his Cornelia again now. I think that sounds strange but very nice as well. What do you think?”

  Gabriella gazed up at Kaleb because she was also expecting an answer. But he was in a quandary – the metaphysical wasn’t something he was very familiar with. He was saved from having to answer by the sounds of shouting and sobbing. One of the servant’s children had fallen and was limping over to them with his hand pressed to his grazed knee. He’d become the head of a long procession of children who were all convinced that Kaleb would be their saviour.

  Kaleb, Mattias and Gabriella set to work at once, watched by the awe-struck multitude of small children. Mattias was also something of a hero for these other children, partly because he was almost eleven years old but also because they admired the fact that he had ‘real muscles.’

  Together, the three of them took care of the injured knee while the other children pressed close to see first hand exactly what was being done.

  Kaleb couldn’t help noticing Gabriella’s obvious empathy while they were caring for the boy together.

  “You’re very practical,” he told her admiringly after they’d finished. “Maybe you should do something like this when you’re grown up.”

  “I’ve always liked to help other people,” said Gabriella seriously.

  “Same here,” said Kaleb.

  The injured boy took the doll’s fine lace bedcover and promptly wiped his tears and blew his nose in it. Gabriella didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow. His need was greater, which was all that mattered.

  ***

  The family never really recovered from the loss of Tarjei. Their collective grief had etched itself onto every part of their lives and there couldn’t be any comfort for so much sadness. They did their best to look towards the future, but it was a difficult struggle.

  Tarjei took one secret with him to his grave – the secret that he and Kolgrim shared. Only they had known what lay in the iron chest in the attic at Graastensholm.

  The day after the funeral, Kaleb announced that he intended to leave. He expressed his genuine gratitude, but said he had to be moving on.

  “But where will you go?” asked Dag in surprise.

  Kaleb shrugged: “I suppose I’ll try to become an apprentice somewhere.”

  “But wasn’t it you that wanted to help unfortunate children who were placed in hard labour?”

  “It was only a wish, nothing more. I haven’t the schooling for it. Besides, I’m just a nobody, a non-entity.”

  Dag’s astute gaze settled on Kaleb. “You’re right when you say that wishes alone won’t be of much help to you. You need to have a position – authority. To make your voice count, you must be a man of substance. Unfortunate though it may be, it’s the way of our society and you’ve little to choose from. Would you be interested in the priesthood, maybe?”

  “Nah,” was Kaleb’s brief and gruff reply.

  “Ah hah! Well, then let’s see: You’ve not got money to wave at the right people. To become a notary requires both money and studying from an early age. What’s more His Majesty decides who’s appointed a notary. No, a notary is out of the question. Neither do I believe you should be a bailiff – because people despise them. In truth, this leaves few opportunities for you!”

  He paused to see the effect of his words. Then he went on to say: “Maybe I can help secure you a position as a clerk in the Lord Lieutenant’s office? A recorder, or scribe – something like that. People are impressed by a title and sometimes knowledge of the law can be a great advantage when one is confronted with a difficult situation.”

  Kaleb grinned sheepishly. “And how am I supposed to be a scribe when I can’t even read?”

  Dag grinned back at him. “I’ve given some thought to that as well. Why not learn here with us? Norway needs those who are prepared to defend the less fortunate. My wife, Liv, can teach you to read and write while I can explain the simpler laws to you. But be clear in your mind what it is you’re doing! Fighting for justice will earn you many enemies. Too many powerful men will wish to keep their cheap labour and treat humans worse than dogs. Do you have the courage to expose yourself to the hatred of those people?”

  “I’ve seen enough of how these high and mighty people get on. I’m not afraid of them.”

  “Excellent! Then we’ll give you all the help you need. Do you accept my proposal?”

  Kaleb was left speechless for a moment. He had reconciled himself to leaving, and all this had come as a complete surprise. At last he managed to say, “Yes,” but was careful to add that he could agree to the proposal only if he was allowed to pay his way by working on the farm. Dag immediately accepted that, and to round everything off, to Mattias’s delight, it was decided that he and Kaleb would share rooms.

  ***

  Then one day, Dag decided that it was time to journey to Kongsberg and that Mattias and Kaleb were to accompany him.

  The suggestion worried Liv because the tragedies they’d endured in recent months had taken their toll on Dag. He had recently suffered from several bouts of breathlessness, which indicated a weak heart.

  “Do you really intend to travel that far, Dag?” she asked anxiou
sly.

  Looking surprisingly happy and youthful for his age, he replied: “This is very important to me, Liv, you know it is. Hugely important! It concerns not just our own little Mattias, but many, many more children.”

  Seeing the determination written in his expression, there was nothing Liv could do but let him have his way. So a day or two later, the three of them set off for Kongsberg where Dag was well acquainted with the legal authorities, and where the scene had been meticulously set for court proceedings against Nermarken and Hauber.

  When the time came, both men naturally pleaded ‘not guilty’ to the charges. They maintained they were as innocent as newborn lambs; that there were no children in the mines and they also said that the court officials were welcome to come and see this for themselves any time.

  This was an invitation the two dishonest men would regret because the court took them at their word.

  The accused were still not worried as they’d prepared for such a visit beforehand. They’d threatened the workers with the sack and worse if anyone so much as uttered a single word about any young boys being there.

  Although Dag Meiden wasn’t an appointed judge in Kongsberg, he was nevertheless the one who’d brought the case before the two judges, which he was entitled to do as grandfather of one of the boys. He sat through the whole trial. His presence lent even more authority to the proceedings, and the court didn’t doubt one word of his testimony. But would they believe what the boys themselves had to say?

  All of the legal officials made their way up to the mine after first questioning Kaleb and Mattias in great detail: “What did it look like down in the mine?” they’d asked. “Describe what went on. Tell us what the rooms you lived in looked like. How did you manage to escape?”

  While all this was going on, Nermarken and Hauber repeatedly shouted their disapproval. This was the work of an unhappy person, they said, a worker who’d maliciously gotten the boys to tell such stories. It must have been someone wanting to take revenge on the two foremen.

  But the boys calmly described the mine in minute detail, including many things outsiders would never have known.

  When the officials, the accused and the witnesses were all assembled in the mine, they found none of the workers were willing to testify. But then again, none of them would contradict what the two boys had said. Quite simply, they all refused to say anything, and that alone spoke volumes.

  It turned out that the boys’ description of the mine was perfect in every way. They’d even given the names of every hewer.

  The fire in the stove was quenched and a thin wiry man was sent up to confirm that it was possible to get out that way. But nobody could understand how they’d managed to take Knut out with them, as sick as he was.

  The net had obviously been fixed back in place, but it was evident by the presence of fresh mortar that this had been done recently.

  In the end, it was Kaleb who provided the vital evidence that sealed the fate of Hauber and Nermarken. He was able to point out the place, deep in the mine, where Søren and a couple of other youngsters had been buried. Spades were called for and after a few minutes of digging, the bodies were uncovered and the two foremen were irrevocably connected to their crimes.

  Of course, each one laid the blame on the other, but they were shown no mercy and both were sent to the gallows.

  The boys didn’t witness the execution so they never heard how two ropes were needed to hang Nermarken. And even then, the scaffold timbers creaked and almost broke under his weight.

  After that a wide investigation was carried out and it was discovered that child labour in the mines wasn’t as common as had been feared. It appeared only to have been a practice at this particular mine under the guidance of the two unscrupulous foremen.

  Despite this, Dag encouraged Kaleb to continue with his studies for there were many other workplaces that needed to be improved. Children were made to labour in industries everywhere, toiling from before sunrise until late in the evening for little or no pay. There was consequently a considerable need for vigilance and with his experience in the silver mines, Kaleb was uniquely qualified and equipped to carry out this important work.

  ***

  One year after the trial in Kongsberg, Dag suffered his first stroke. He recovered, but decided to resign as a notary and stay at home. He explained that this would also give him more time to tutor Kaleb. Liv was grateful to have him close at hand where she could take more care of him.

  Are and Liv had also become concerned about events elsewhere. Juliana of Lowenstein and Scarffeneck had been widowed in November 1635 when the Garrison Commander had died unexpectedly. The following year, Juliana had married again, this time to Johan Banér, one of Sweden’s great field marshals. For some time she accompanied him on his campaigns. Her daughter, Marca Christiana and young Mikael remained at Lowenstein, but letters from there were becoming noticeably fewer.

  “I don’t want to lose my grandson completely,” Are said. “I’d like to see him at least once. After all, he’s Tarjei’s son – and I want to tell him what Tarjei said as he lay dying.”

  So Liv wrote a letter to Cecilie, who replied that she was more than willing to help, and a few weeks later Are found himself on the dockside in Copenhagen, shiny new travelling bag in hand, being greeted by Cecilie and Alexander. The rugged farmer was dressed in his best woollen coat and feeling very out of place in the big wide world. Christiania was the furthest he’d ever been before and that was only for a few hours. But it didn’t take long for Cecilie and Alexander to make Are feel at ease.

  After resting for a couple of days, the three of them began the long journey to Lower Saxony. Seeing the devastation after the war in Germany came as a shock to them all and Are had great misgivings about what they’d find when they arrived in Lowenstein. He even began to wonder whether they’d find the castle standing. But it was still intact on their arrival and the meeting between three-year-old Mikael and his granddad was very emotional.

  Despite the obvious language difficulties, the two of them immediately formed a strong bond.

  Juliana, who’d tired of the demands of life in the field and had begun to feel unwell, had returned home and told them she intended to stay there for as long as she had guests. She was an attentive and considerate hostess and a warm rapport quickly developed between her, Cecilie, Alexander and Are.

  Mikael had shiny black, almost straight hair with a tinge of copper-red, a domed forehead and solemn eyebrows, framing enormous dark eyes. While he obviously took after Cornelia in many ways, his face still had the unmistakable characteristics of the Ice People. Cecilie said that he looked just like Tancred when he was the same age, but Alexander thought she was exaggerating. Juliana told them all the things that Mikael typically did and related anecdotes about his young life. She said that he was quick-witted and had a quiet temperament, which was fortunate for the latter wasn’t something Cornelia had been known for.

  Thirteen-year-old Marca Christiana and Mikael seemed to get on very well. The girl showed a touching concern for her little foster-brother, who was also her cousin’s son. Marca Christiana was a lively and intelligent girl and although she wasn’t a striking beauty, she was pleasant and attractive in every other way. Are took an instant liking to her.

  The three of them remained at Lowenstein for three weeks so that Are could enjoy his grandson’s company for as long as possible. Then he had to leave to be home in time for the harvest. For their part, Cecilie and Alexander were also beginning to miss their own children.

  When the time came to leave, Are hugged little Mikael for a long time. He comforted himself with the thought that now he’d met the boy, the distance between them wouldn’t seem so great any longer. He felt sure they’d formed a deep affection for each other.

  Finally, Juliana promised that soon she’d make the journey to Norway with Mikael so that the boy could see the home of his
father.

  ***

  As he approached Linden Avenue on his arrival home, Are felt like a changed man. Comparatively speaking, he was well travelled now. He’d seen the world outside and there were very few people in the Graastensholm parish who had done that. With all the journeying and stops along the way, he’d been gone two long months. What a lot he had to tell his family, Brand, Matilda and Andreas, he thought.

  Then something struck him with the force of a physical blow as soon as he swung into the avenue: The linden tree that had been slowly withering for so long was gone. Only a dark stump was left.

  “Dag!” he whispered to himself. “Dear God, it’s Dag!”

  His suspicions were confirmed immediately as soon as he saw the faces of his family. Yes, Dag was gone and Liv told him that it had all happened quickly. He’d suffered another stroke from which he never awoke. She comforted herself with the thought that he wouldn’t have felt any pain.

  The day after Are had come home, he was standing in the churchyard with Liv. Each found the presence of the other very comforting, and Liv slid her hand affectionately under her brother’s arm.

  “We’re all alone now, little brother,” she said very quietly. “There’s just you and me left.”

  Are smiled sadly at Liv’s reference to him as her ‘little brother.’

  He was head and shoulders taller than his sister and bigger and broader in every way. But this reminder of their lifelong connection warmed them both.

  “Yes, and we’re both of the Ice People,” murmured Are. “We’re both stout and strong – and maybe we’ve got many lonely years ahead of us.”

  “That was what Dad found so hard to bear and why he chose to die alongside Silje,” said Liv softly. “Do you remember?”

  Are merely nodded, lost in his memories of the past.

  “We’ve lost so much, you and I,” continued Liv, sadly.

  “Children and grandchildren. So much lost ... all because of that bitter curse! Do you know, Are, that when Dag died, I longed so much to follow him to his grave.”

 

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