The Ice People 3 Read online

  “Then you must stay as chaste as a crusading knight,” said Sol. “But you must also make her see that you’re the stronger of the two of you because young ladies like your sweetheart like to look up to their beloved. Be courteous and polite towards her. Don’t be shy. Most of all, treat her like a lady!”

  “Well, Miss Sol,” said Skille acidly. “You seem experienced in such matters.”

  Sol turned towards him, her eyes glaring.

  “No, I’m not!” she answered harshly. “I was raped when I was just fourteen years old. Since then nobody’s been allowed to touch me.”

  It wouldn’t hurt to tell a white lie, she thought. Actually, it was quite the opposite that had happened. “Forgive me, Klaus,” she said to herself.

  “You poor child,” said Skille gently. “Fourteen years old and raped.”

  Sol could feel that something was happening within her. She was absolutely furious. Skille felt compassion for her! Compassion! She craved men’s admiration and to feel that they desired her. Then she felt strong and superior and could keep them at a distance and look down on them. She didn’t want to be pitied! She really didn’t know how to handle it.

  She got up and walked away to stop herself from slapping him. He misunderstood her, thinking that they’d awakened the memory of the incident and that this was just too much for her. They were sure that now she simply wanted to spare them from seeing her tears.

  After taking a few deep breaths, she walked back to them and threw herself on the grass once more.

  “What progress have you made with the young girl?” Sol asked Jorgen in a friendly tone.

  He blushed once more. “I’ve been alone with her once in her father’s garden. You see, she’s a very distinguished young lady. I wanted so desperately to kiss her but I didn’t have the courage to do so. I don’t know how to go about it.”

  “Nor do I,” lied Sol cheerfully. “How about practicing on one another?”

  “But ... this probably wouldn’t be the right thing to do now ...”

  “Then Skille can teach us,” she teased. “He’s bound to have children and grandchildren.”

  “Skille? He’s been a soldier ever since he learned to crawl.”

  Jacob Skille had a gloomy expression on his face.

  “Grandchildren,” he snorted. “How old do you honestly think I am, Sol? Now I think we’d better be on our way and not waste more time on this nonsense.”

  After this episode, the two soldiers each began to view Sol in a different light. A young man’s yearning showed in Jorgen’s thoughtful gaze, as if he was wondering whether a lesson from her in the art of kissing might be a good idea after all. Skille, on the other hand, considered her a poor, vulnerable child whose life had been destroyed by a ruthless and violent man.

  Poor, dear Klaus as a ruthless and violent man? Sol couldn’t help feeling slightly remorseful.

  Besides, she hated Skille’s new, protective attitude towards her. If there was one thing Sol was immensely proud of it was her independence.

  Skille wasn’t pushing the horses so hard any more.

  He’d brought them to an early stop on the ridge of Romele. “You wait here while I look for a place where we can spend the night.”

  The sun was setting on the horizon. They were in the woodland and the song of a lonely thrush could be heard echoing through the trees. Sol and Jorgen got off their horses and stretched their aching legs.

  “This long ride has certainly given me a pain in my ass,” Sol said bluntly and Jorgen blushed once again. She wondered whether he thought that fine ladies didn’t have anything to sit on?

  Jorgen wanted to continue the conversation about the “lesson” which they’d spoken about earlier in the day, but Sol was no longer interested in seducing him. He was just too innocent and wet behind the ears. As she’d once told Dag: “I want somebody with claws.”

  Nevertheless she let him use her as somebody he could experiment on. She let him caress her face and touch her lips fleetingly, correcting him when she thought that he was too clumsy. She told him what words she thought a virtuous young girl would like to hear and with some nervousness she let him run his hands over her curvaceous body.

  She stopped him from going below her waist, and he agreed. “That is a sacred area for her,” said Sol. “You mustn’t touch another woman.”

  He agreed, but Sol could see that he was having a difficult time. His lips and hands were trembling and he was moaning under his breath as he crossed his legs in a childish way. Sol wasn’t the least bit interested in him. She felt no desire for him.

  In order to divert his attention, she got up and began to unsaddle the horse. She felt uneasy. I must be an absolutely insensitive and cold person, she thought anxiously. All this touching should have aroused me, but instead it bores me.

  At that moment Jacob Skille returned and saved them from the embarrassing situation.

  “I didn’t find any settlement close by. Shall we continue or do you want to camp here for the night?”

  “Let’s stay here,” said Jorgen. “I think the horses need a rest.”

  And so they camped there. Sol spread out her blankets while she watched Skille from the corner of her eyes. She felt that he’d changed.

  Shortly afterwards she understood that she had changed her view of him. She also thought that this was probably because of Jorgen’s immature touching.

  Skille was the strong one, the leader who made decisions for all three of them. He was well built and physically strong, a seasoned soldier, who wasn’t at all interested in women. If you inspected his face, you’d discover that he had a certain attraction. He was certainly no Adonis – far from it – but his eyes had a glow and an alertness that appealed to her. He had strong, white teeth and his skin was tanned. He was a little unshaven and could do with a splash of water on his face and hands, she thought. He needed to have his hair trimmed as well. His body moved with a confident and easy efficiency.

  Sol breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I’m not without feelings after all, she thought.

  During the years she’d spent helping Tengel to attend the sick, she’d suppressed her interest in men and anything erotic. Tengel’s wrath following the incident with Klaus had left her so shocked that she’d wanted to do all she could to please him.

  But now Tengel, her father figure and the only man in the world that she truly respected, was far away. She was free also from the obligations towards Judge Strahlenhelm, his family and Dag. Nobody would ever know what she did between leaving Copenhagen and arriving back in Norway. Whatever it was, she was determined to make the most of her freedom.

  In some way, of course. But she didn’t really know how.

  There was no time for small talk that evening. Once Skille had his modest meal, he immediately wrapped himself in his blanket and ordered the two others to do the same. Then he said goodnight.

  Fortunately, Sol lay in such a way that it was impossible for Jorgen to approach her.

  She was grateful for that. She wasn’t interested in more clumsy, young hands fumbling over her or breathless panting and moaning in her ear. Ottilia would have him back untouched.

  Once she lay down, she found that she was actually very tired. She also felt exhausted from the hard ride, and it wasn’t long before she fell asleep.

  Chapter 5

  All the siblings from Linden Avenue had gone their separate ways by now. Are would discuss forestry with his Dad, Tengel, and Charlotte. In Copenhagen, Dag was sweating over his final exams while Sol had been sent out of Copenhagen because of her witchcraft and was now riding through Scania.

  Dag, Sol and Are were quite happy with life as it was.

  Things were much worse with Liv, who was the one who maybe deserved life’s greatest rewards because of her unselfish love, kindness and compassionate nature.

  In the affluent but not particularly cozy house in Oslo, Liv fought a losing battle to please her husband. During the day when he was at the office, her mother-
in-law didn’t give her a moment of peace and in the evening she had to be at the beck and call of her husband. Laurents would pat her absentmindedly on the head and ask how his “little sugar lump” was doing. But he didn’t listen to what she tried to tell him about her day. Not that there was very much to tell, and she’d also learned that it was best to keep quiet about the humiliations. Once when she’d mentioned something along those lines, Laurents had become aggressive and accused her of being ungrateful. His mother was old and helpless. Surely she could understand that – and couldn’t she see that he did everything he possibly could for Liv? On one occasion she’d asked to be a bit more independent and to show what she was capable of. “Of course,” said her husband, Laurents. “Why don’t you go in the kitchen and ask the cook if you can bake a cake, my dear!” Then she’d given up.

  This spring morning, her mother-in-law bossed her about from her seat on the sofa. Liv ran here, then there, fetching her bowls of sweets, mirrors and mugs with ale for her, and yet the old lady managed to give Liv a constant bad conscience.

  “Nobody seems to care about me and my aches and pains,” complained the mother-in-law, clutching at her heart. (It was the wrong side of the chest, but Liv thought it best not to point this out). “My son’s only interested in his business and my daughter-in-law is too lazy and unable to figure out my wishes and needs.”

  “And what is it you’d like now?” Liv enquired shyly.

  “Oh, how will you ever be able to help me when all you think about is yourself? Here I live, lonely and deserted. Just as you were on your way downstairs to eat, I had a heart attack. My heart can’t bear to see that my son is in such a miserable marriage. Here I lie helpless ... lonely ... afraid.”

  “I had no idea ...”

  “I shouted,” moaned the mother-in-law. “But nobody heard. There’s nobody to help me.”

  Liv felt very guilty because she’d gone downstairs for lunch. With the world’s worst conscience, she asked her mother-in-law whether she’d like something to eat.

  No, she replied. She wasn’t hungry – which was because she’d secretly eaten fifteen sweet cakes. She’d not felt like eating any food for several days. She was probably at death’s door, but nobody would take an interest in her. “It’s your fault if I die, Liv. I want you to know – and remember this!”

  Liv looked at her hands. “So ... I’d better stay at home today as well, then? As you know, the wife of one of Laurents’ colleagues has invited me home today, but if you feel unwell, mother-in-law ...”

  The mother-in-law turned nasty. “I see, so she’s invited you and not me? Well, then you just leave, very typical of you to think of pleasure. By all means, be on your way. Don’t waste your time on me!”

  This was the first time Liv had been to visit someone on her own and she’d so been looking forward to leaving the house even for a short while, although she knew perfectly well that she’d only been invited for reasons of politeness. Liv had never been included in their circle of friends and counted for little in this narrow local world.

  “I can certainly decline the invitation.”

  “No, don’t do that. I’ll manage on my own. I’m so used to being overlooked. It was certainly a different matter when there was just Laurents and me. Then he’d always have time for me, and we had such a cozy time when he was so attentive of his Mum. Now he’s working himself to death to please his demanding wife. He who could marry anybody in Oslo high society. All the young ladies of high society were competing for his attention, and then he chooses a Miss Nobody from the back of beyond.”

  She spat out the last words.

  Liv tried not to take any notice. She knew that her mother-in-law and Laurents couldn’t have lived alone in the house for very long because his father died shortly before Liv and Laurents got married.

  Another thing that Liv was puzzled about was her mother-in-law’s illness. If anything interested her, for instance scandals or juicy local gossip, she would walk miles to know more. However, when nothing happened, she would lie stretched out on the sofa and was ever so sick ...!

  “Fine. So if you think you can manage without me, I’ll go now,” said Liv uncertainly. “Do you have everything you need within reach?”

  “Just go,” said the old woman, exhausted.

  Would Liv really be allowed to leave? If she did, she was bound to have abuse heaped on her, but there was nothing to be done about that. She felt that if she didn’t get out of the house soon she’d suffocate. And so she got ready to leave.

  But, oh no! That wouldn’t be happening today!

  The mother-in-law had no intention of letting Liv get a breath of fresh air. When she was ready to leave, her mother-in-law threw back her head and clutched at her own throat. A rattling noise came from the old woman’s throat. “Oh, I can’t breathe. I need air!”

  Liv rushed to fetch the smelling salts. “So you want me to call the doctor?” she asked after the old woman had recovered a bit.

  “No, no! We mustn’t bother the doctor with such trivialities. It would leave a very bad impression if my own family can’t take care of me!”

  Liv gazed at the pale, suffering face and resigned. She sent word to her hostess that she very much regretted that she was unable to come and therefore had to decline the invitation. Shortly afterwards, the old woman felt miraculously so much better and it wasn’t long before she resumed bullying her daughter-in-law, Liv.

  ***

  Sol woke up suddenly with a stifled scream. Jacob Skille sat up immediately.

  It was in the middle of the night and pretty dark. The horses were whinnying and pulling at their traces in fear. A couple of men were crouched over Jorgen, who was clearly fighting for his life. Then some other men threw themselves on Skille.

  Sol acted swiftly and on instinct. She grabbed a stone and hit with full force over the head of one of Jorgen’s attackers. Before the other attacker could turn and look at her, she’d also smashed his face with a stone.

  Jorgen was fighting for breath. The two attackers had clearly tried to choke him to death. Blood from the two men poured over him, but Sol didn’t have time to do anything about it now. She turned round to help Skille.

  That proved to be unnecessary because he’d already drawn his knife and slain one of his attackers. Now he was fighting for his life with the other robber. Before Sol had any time to decide whether she should intervene or not, yet another man rushed from behind the trees and grabbed her from behind. Sol fought like mad, but her attacker held her in an iron grip and she couldn’t prevent him from throwing her up on the nearest horse. The next moment, he spurred the animal forward into the trees with a wild shout. Sol managed to snatch a look over her shoulder and could see that Skille had killed the other attacker and was rushing towards the horses.

  Sol’s curses must have shocked the good soldier. A virtuous and helpless girl wouldn’t behave like that!

  But he probably didn’t hear her because he was busy pursuing them. Sol twisted and turned, bit and scratched.

  “Lean forward,” Sol heard Skille shout while the branches of the trees whipped her in the face.

  She obeyed instinctively and the next moment a shot rang out over Romele Ridge; the robber yelled and loosened his grip on her. Sol fell headlong off the horse and quickly rolled away from its hooves. She landed in a prickly juniper bush.

  Skille jumped off the saddle. The other horse continued but returned when Skille called. It was clearly Skille’s horse that the robber had seized. This was probably why he’d come so quickly, she thought bitterly.

  But in truth, she was the one Skille had come to help first of all.

  “Sorry it took such a long time, but it isn’t easy loading a gun while on horseback. Are you alright?” he asked, concerned.

  Sol got on her feet unharmed. “I’m alright, I think. It was a very good shot,” she said and fell in his arms. Jacob Skille held her close and was clearly worried about her.

  “Mmm,” mumbled Sol. Enjo
ying the moment. “There’s much to be said for being taken care of.”

  “Pardon?” he said.

  “Nothing. I’m okay You’re so big and strong. We’d better go back and see how Jorgen is.”

  “Sure.”

  He let her go with a noticeable reluctance.

  There was nothing seriously wrong with Jorgen. He had difficulties talking and had been cut in the arm. But he was alive.

  “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely to Sol. “You certainly acted swiftly.”

  “What?” exclaimed Jacob Skille. “Did you do this?” He pointed at the two men lying at his feet with their skulls crushed. She nodded eagerly.

  “You poor child,” he said. “You must be deeply shocked. Imagine being forced to do something as brutal as this.”

  Sol tried to show her distress by trembling but wasn’t very successful.

  “Well it was a remarkable thing of you. You didn’t think of your own safety at all. We’re very grateful. What a bunch of fools. Imagine attacking the king’s messengers! But they probably didn’t know. How are you managing, Jorgen?”

  Jorgen was still unsteady on his feet. “I ...I’ve probably lost a lot of blood.”

  It was only now they saw that Jorgen had been stabbed several times.

  “Your wounds must be treated,” said Sol, tearing large strips from her skirt. “You need a good rest. Are there no houses at all nearby?”

  “No,” said Skille. “But maybe if we ride further south towards the sea ...”

  “Yes, let’s do that,” she decided while she dressed Jorgen’s wounds as well as she could. “He can’t ride very far in this condition.”

  “But I ...” protested Jorgen.

  “Sol’s right,” said Skille. “You’ll never make it to Glimmingehus in this state.”

  Jorgen gave up protesting. He knew their plans were for the best.

  When they’d gently put him onto the horse and had ridden for a while, Sol stopped her horse. “Wait a moment,” she said. “I’d like to go back. Is that alright? I’d like to say a prayer for their souls.”