C7 Chapter 7

Three young, pale, thin girls stood in front of Elisabet.

Elisabet said: “Yes, what do you want?”

“Mum is giving birth,” the oldest whispered, frightened.

“Right now?”

“Yes, would you please come?”

Elisabet looked around. She felt completely worn out with fatigue and the rain. She sighed silently.

“Of course. Where’s your mum?”

The shy, breathless voices whispered: “In that house over there.”

In the unaffected part of the slum.

“Miss Karin,” she said to her patient, who had sought shelter from the rain under an open shed. “Will you please come with me? I could do with your help.”

Karin moaned: “This day has been turned upside down. I won’t accept it!”

Nevertheless, she went along with Elisabet and she did not trip along quite as much in the mud any longer. What was the point, anyway? Her skirts were soiled right up to her calf, which was nothing compared to what Elisabet looked like. She was grey, yellow, brown and dirty from top to toe. They followed the three young girls into the chaos of miserable shacks and over to a trapdoor. Elisabet stepped inside and the others followed her. It was high time when they arrived. They had only a few minutes to spare!

The woman was lying on a bed of extremely dirty hides. Another three small girls were sitting around the mother in the cold, dim room; they seemed even younger and thinner than the others. Elisabet sent the three small girls to the neighbours and only kept the oldest, who seemed to be about nine but with the experience of a twenty-year-old.

“Can you make it a bit lighter in here?”

“We haven’t got any,” the girl whispered, frightened. “And the fire has burnt down.”

Elisabet sent her off to borrow firewood from somewhere. Curious neighbours appeared, standing in the door. Elisabet asked them brusquely whether they would lend a helping hand, which made them vanish in a great hurry. This did not bode well.

At last, Elisabet was able to tend to the girl’s mother. She was an utterly exhausted woman, who had aged far too early, robbed of any illusion about life. She grabbed Elisabet’s arm, looking at her in desperation. “Please, please! Let it be a boy! It has to be a boy! It just has to be!”

“It’s too late for me to decide that,” Elisabet replied wryly. “Your husband’s semen – and not you – already decided that.”

The woman looked even more frightened. “My husband ... My husband ... If it’s another girl, he will kill both the baby and me and find another woman!”

The neighbours were frightened of the husband. A cold fear seized Elisabet.

“Anyway, it’s not your fault,” she insisted. “Besides, what’s wrong with girls? We’re doing well, aren’t we? We’re needed, both you and I and Miss Karin here ...”

Karin, who seemed dumbfounded by the misery in this home, nodded nervously. She would rather be on her way home but she was too afraid to walk alone in this dangerous world. She probably wished that Elisabet would be finished soon.

The girl returned with fire and an oil lamp and then they got busy with the woman who was in labour.

At a quiet moment, Elisabet asked: “Where’s your husband?”

“He’ll be back ... at any time ... Oh, Holy Father, have mercy on me this time! I can’t take any more beatings!”

Elisabet had noticed the damage on the mother from the many times she had been beaten. She felt powerless with anger and sorrow.

Then came the child, and the mother was in such a bad state that she was hardly able to utter a sound. Elisabet worried whether the worn-out and exhausted woman could have the strength to give birth but it went quite smoothly.

It was a little girl ...

“Oh, no!” the mother wept, shocked. “No, no, no, I can’t take any more! If only I were allowed to die! But how will the children manage without me?”

Elisabet said: “Wait a moment. There’s another on the way. It’s twins! That’s quite normal at your age. Twins often come last.”

“That’s even worse,” the mother whispered, weeping. “My husband will kill them. He says that twins are the work of the devil.”

Elisabet did not have time to reply. “Miss Karin, please take the little baby girl. Quickly! Wash her in the water over there. Be careful not to drop her! I haven’t got time ...”

Karin gave a start. “Am I supposed to wash this child? Well, then I’ll get dirty, won’t I!”

“Please take her now so that she won’t die from the cold! Wash her and wrap her in a ... Well, in what?”

“Mum has some linen ready here,” the girl said and dug out a well-used blanket that did not have much to do with linen. “But it’s only for one!”

Miss Karin had received the little mite reluctantly, holding it far from her body, lowering it carefully into the wooden tub. Before Elisabet concentrated on the other child, who was about to be born, she had time to see that the little girl had caught Karin’s index finger like a straw in a terrifying world.

“She’s holding on to me,” Karin said in amazement.

“I’ll loosen her fingers,” the older sister said.

“No, no, she needs me,” Karin said breathlessly above the mother’s agonizing moans. “Now, now, little one, it’s not that bad. This is just a spot of water that is nice and warm ...”

Good heavens, Elisabet thought. This is totally new to me! Then she pulled out the other child.

“A boy!” Elisabet shouted triumphantly. “A boy!”

“You don’t say!” the exhausted mother whispered.

“Yes, I’m right, it’s a boy!” Elisabet said, feeling personally responsible for this stroke of luck. “And what’s more, he’s big and strong. He seems to have taken all his strength from his little twin sister.”

The nervous joy in the mother’s eyes disappeared. “Twins ... Oh, God! My husband says that the last one is something the Devil created and must be killed immediately!”

“Nonsense! I’ve never heard such utter rubbish in all my life! They are your and your husband’s children and nobody else’s. The Devil? We no longer live in the Middle Ages!”

“But he will kill them. Twins are the fruit of sin.”

“Your son?”

“N-no,” the mother said hesitatingly. “But the girl ... Even if the boy was the last to be born, the last-born child is to die ...”

One of the small girls came running in. “Dad’s boat is on its way down the river.”

The mother screamed loud in anguish and anxiety.

Karin also screamed: “He mustn’t kill the little girl! I won’t allow it!”

Elisabet acted as swiftly as lightning. She asked the mother: “Can you do without the girl? If you know that she’ll grow up in a good home? I think I can arrange that.”

The poor mother looked confused.

Elisabet explained: “We’ll pretend that the girl was never born. That you only gave birth to one child. A son. Surely he won’t kill his son? And he probably won’t batter you so much any more.”

“If only we could ...” the mother whispered. “But what about the girl?”

“You’ll have to give her away. I’ll give you my word that she’ll be taken good care of.”

The mother stopped weeping, nodding weakly. “You’re probably right. That’s the only solution. If so, I don’t want to see my little baby girl.”

“Quickly now, Miss Karin,” Elisabet shouted. “Take the girl and run as fast as you can to your house! Put her in my bed and make sure that she’s warm. I’ll be there soon.”

Without hesitating, Karin seized the wrapped-up infant, hid it under her cloak and left immediately.

Elisabet thought bitterly that Karin seemed to have forgotten her anxiety of the outside world.

“And you, children,” Elisabet said sternly to the girls. “Only one child was born: it was a boy. Remember that! Not a word to anybody about the little girl! Because I’m sure you don’t want your mum to die, do you?”

The youngest girl began to cry.

“I won’t say a word,” the eldest said, while her younger sister sobbed: “I told Torunn.”

“Then tell Torunn that it was something you invented,” Elisabet said.

That was all they had time for before they heard a furious roar outside and a little, frightened girl screamed in pain. A man stepped into the miserable shack. He was not all that tall but he was heavily built and round as a barrel.

“What the hell is this I hear?” he roared. “Twins? Have you been a prostitute of the Devil, you ugly scarecrow?”

Elisabet placed herself in front of the mother. “Twins? Who said that? You have a son and I can only see one.”

The pig-like man stopped and stared stupidly at Elisabet. “What?”

“You heard what I said,” Elisabet said gently. “Your son is lying here. Congratulations!”

The man looked gobsmacked. He was unable to say a word. “A son? But Torunn said ...”

“Torunn misunderstood,” the oldest girl said with a frightened look, holding her sister’s hand. “All Ella here said to her was that mum gave birth to a boy. She meant in addition to us.”

Elisabet thought, what an intelligent girl. She was probably used to acting as a shock absorber.

“Hmm,” the father grunted. “Hmm, a boy, eh?” He let out a roar of laughter. “A boy? Can I see him? But he’s naked, for heaven’s sake!”

“I didn’t get any further,” Elisabet said. “He’s only just been born and I had to take care of your wife first. She’s pretty worn out.”

Behind the man’s back, Elisabet managed to signal to the two girls to find something that they could wrap the little baby boy in. They looked petrified. The only piece of cloth was what the little baby girl had got.

Elisabet looked nervously around. Then she caught sight of a bowl with dough under a fairly white piece of cloth. She grabbed it, wiped off the flour and wrapped the baby in it as professionally as she could. She hoped that the husband would not notice the smell of bread.

“There,” she said, satisfied, holding the whimpering infant. “A big, fine boy! If I may say so, your daughters are extremely attractive. All six of them. You know the art by the look of things. You also have a lovely wife.”

The man snorted but looked pretty pleased with himself.

“He’s a fine boy, eh?” he laughed. “A really fine little boy!”

From the corner of her eye, Elisabet noticed that one of the girls was putting another piece of cloth over the dough. Perfect co-operation!

“Thank you for all your help,” the mother whispered to Elisabet. “But how are we to pay you?”

At last, the husband really took notice of Elisabet.

“And what sort of a woman are you,” he asked angrily. “Where are you from?”

The mother answered nervously: “The girls said that she’s a doctor. She was working with Dr Hansen down by the riverbank. I asked the girls to fetch her.”

“A doctor? Her? A female? Now you must be joking!”

“I’m not allowed to become a real doctor because I’m a woman,” Elisabet said, wishing that she was one of the Ice People familiar with witchcraft so that she could teach this obnoxious slob of a man a lesson. He could have done with a proper ticking off of the third degree for the way he treated his wife and daughters, but this would have made matters worse for them. She managed to control her anger. “I’ve learned almost all a medical doctor can – apart from Latin, of course, and it was a pleasure to help your charming wife.”

“What arrogant words!” the husband grimaced. “How could she do everything that a man is able to do? She’s bound to be a witch!”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Elisabet replied. “What’s more, I’m not allowed to charge anything for my services because then I would have the entire medical profession against me. So congratulations on the boy, everybody! I’ll be back in a few days to see how you’re getting along. Goodbye.”

Elisabet’s last words were said to the mother. It was a hidden message that she would be told about how the little baby girl was faring.

The woman nodded. The weak expression on her face showed genuine warmth and gratitude. Elisabet hurriedly left before they had a chance to ask her where she lived.

The demolition squad by the river had practically finished their job and the homeless had left. The only ones left were the crew and the curious who always gave useful comments – afterwards.

Vemund Tark walked up to her: “Where have you been?” It almost sounded as if he had missed her. Impossible! She told him everything. “Now I must hurry home and take care of Miss Karin and the baby,” was Elisabet’s final remark. “I imagine that both are equally surprised.”

Vemund looked stern. “I’ll join you. I can’t do any more here.”

On the way, he said: “I quite understand that you couldn’t have acted in any other way but sending Karin off home with a newborn baby was very dangerous. Nobody knows what she can get up to! Poor child!”

They instinctively walked faster.

“I told her to put the baby in my bed,” Elisabet said, conscious of guilt.

“You can’t have the child there,” Vemund said.

“Of course not. I’m sure I’ll quickly find a home for her. If worst comes to worst, I’ll take her home to Elistrand where there’s always been room for those who are left out by society.”

Vemund looked as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.

Elisabet said: “You’re thinking of Karin Ulriksby. Yes, I’ve also been thinking about her. She needs a proper home. You mean well, Vemund, but she can’t stay here forever. The situation is untenable.”

Vemund was surprised when Elisabet used his first name. Did he not like it? Elisabet asked herself whether things had become too intimate? I shan’t do it again!

“I think you’re good for Karin,” he said. “But I didn’t intend to burden you for such a long time.”

“We’ll see,” Elisabet said, more cheerfully than she felt. “We’re taking one day at a time.”

As soon as she entered the house, she flung open the door to her room. She had a fright. It was empty.

They took the stairs in a hurry. What if there was no one at home? What if Karin had not managed to find her way home, and was roaming the streets in a perplexed state with a newborn baby? Perhaps she would leave it somewhere and forget all about it?

But outside her door, they heard a lullaby. Karin’s thin voice moved in a sharp glissando over the tones.

They knocked on the door and walked in.

Miss Karin whispered “Hush” with a finger to her lip. “Now she’s sleeping!”

The little baby lay in the middle of the large, elegant bed wrapped in a mass of lace, which Elisabet recognized as Miss Karen’s nightdress. The latter was confused as she sat on the edge of the bed with her hand protecting the child’s head. She had tied a silk ribbon around the little one’s wisp of hair, which perhaps consisted of seven or eight strands.

“She thinks it’s a doll,” Vemund whispered despondently.

“No,” Elisabet replied, who understood a woman’s psyche better. “No, she doesn’t!”

They were not the only ones in the room. Dr Hansen was there as well. He went over to the baffled newcomers.

“I met Miss Karin as she was running and I thought it would be better if I followed her home,” he whispered, “in order to help her with the child.”

“Thank you, that was awfully kind of you,” Elisabet said, confused. “Is everything in order?”

Dr Hansen replied: “Yes. I’ll arrange for the baby to have a wet nurse. If you don’t mind. I know someone who can move in for a while.”

Vemund exploded: “The child can’t stay here!”

Dr Hansen gave him an admonishing glance. “I wouldn’t advise that the baby is moved away right now,” he said, stressing every single word.

“Elisabet can’t cope with taking care of Miss Karin and the little baby,” Vemund whispered.

“Yes I can, if a wet nurse helps me,” Elisabet said quickly. She intuitively felt that if everything went well, this would be a good idea. All Vemund could see were the alarming perspectives, which there were certainly enough of.

Karin whispered from the bed: “Dr Hansen, you’ve met these two before, haven’t you? My helpful friend, Mr Vemund, and Elisabet, my companion.”

“Oh, so I’m your companion again?” Elisabet said wryly. “Wasn’t I demoted to chambermaid?”

“Chambermaid?” Karin exclaimed, baffled. “You’ve never been my chambermaid. Now you’re talking nonsense!”

The glances that Vemund and Elisabet exchanged said: Is she putting on an act, or is she serious? However, Karin’s indignation seemed absolutely genuine.

My word, doesn’t she forget quickly? Elisabet thought. Or does she only remember the pleasant things? Has her consciousness decided to forget the admonition?

The look on Vemund’s face told Elisabet that he was reading her thoughts – because he thought along the same lines as she did. Karin’s kind of confusion was an enigma, certainly for Elisabet. Vemund, of course, knew more.

“It was just a joke, Miss Karin,” she murmured and the gracious Miss Karin nodded sternly, concentrating once more on the little baby girl.

“I’m rushing off to fetch the wet nurse,” the doctor said. “She can get hold of a cot and some clothes for the little one. You look very tired, Miss Paladin of the Ice People. I’m sure you could do with a bath by the look of it. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of all this.”

Vemund looked down at himself. “I could probably also do with a bath,” he said, smiling. “Good heavens, don’t we look awful, Elisabet.”

“The most important thing is that we’re beautiful inside.”

“Speak for yourself,” Vemund muttered.

They cast a nervous glance at Karin, wondering whether they could leave her, but she was totally absorbed in taking care of the baby. It would be impossible for them to interfere and take the child away from her. They couldn’t do that.

They walked down the stairs, rather confused. They had left the bedroom door half open so that they could hear any sounds. Dr Hansen hurried on his way to find a wet nurse.

Vemund said: “Dr Hansen is right. You’re the sort of person who believes she has all the strength in the world. Who can tackle everything. We tend to forget that you can also become tired and want to give up. Go to bed, It’s getting late!”

“I think I want to have a bath first. Is it all right for me to leave things just as they are now?”

“I’ll stay here until the others come. I mean, Dr Hansen and the wet nurse.”

She must have been pretty spoilt, Elisabet said to herself. But I think isolated is a more fitting word. She knew nothing about the outside world. She got the feeling that everything revolved around her. Poor little girl! Reality became too merciless for her!”

Elisabet suddenly felt how extremely tired she was, both in body and in mind.

“I’m glad you came, Vemund,” she blurted out.

“Yes, I ... Oh! I remember why I came. I had a message for you and then neither you nor Karin was in. I heard the noise from the slum and ...”

“What message?”

“Lillebror has spoken to my parents. About his marriage to you. They have asked you to come to Lekenes tomorrow evening to discuss the matter.”

If Elisabet had been tired before, she felt four times as tired now. The thought of turning up, neat and intelligent, at Lekenes seemed overwhelming. She had forgotten everything about Lillebror – all afternoon.

“I see,” she said flatly. “Anyway, I’ll put water for a bath in the wooden tub. Will you ask the wet nurse to lock the door when the three of you leave?”

“Sure. Right now, there isn’t much left of the strong-willed, cheerful Elisabet Paladin of the Ice People.”

Elisabet admitted: “No, she’s in a different place. Right now, I feel a great need to lean against a broad shoulder and seek comfort. Or just to sleep there.”

“I see ...” said Vemund Tark.

“No thanks,” she said quickly. “If you’ve chosen me as your brother’s bride, you mustn’t turn up later and accuse me of using other men’s shoulders as a pretext for doing nothing.”

She slammed the kitchen door behind her.

She remained standing on the other side of the door, in the middle of the floor, with her hands against her blushing cheeks; her knees were shaking. She thought she had reacted exceptionally strongly to all her hard work by the river and in the shack and her great responsibility towards Karin.

Not to mention the daunting prospect of tomorrow evening.

Lillebror Tark ... who was he really? What did he look like? What was he like to talk to? She could not remember anything at all.