C8 Chapter 8

Heike closed his eyes and stood completely still for a moment on the wilting, sun-drenched meadow.

No mandrake, no longer a consoling friend. Could anyone be more lonely?

“You nightly wanderer, you who were my friend and protector for so many years,” he whispered. “Can you hear me? I’m so alone, so ignorant and inexperienced that I am terrified! I could always go to you before whenever a child or animal had disappeared from the village back home, or when I had my own worries. But now you’re so far away.”

He was in despair and felt abandoned. He didn’t belong anywhere. No one would ask about him if he never came out of the castle again. He had left his family in Slovenia for good, and his family in Norway and Sweden didn’t even know he existed.

Could a soul be more isolated? Rootless, homeless, floating in eternal empty space?

And now he intended to attempt this?

On the other hand, who else was there to take an interest in Peter’s fate? Mira, perhaps, but there was nothing she could do.

It was only Heike who could save the young, cheerful Peter.

A dry sob was working its way up through his throat. He swallowed with difficulty.

Suddenly he was alert. He was filled with a gentle, consoling sense of warmth.

There was someone close by!

“Are you the one who wanders at night?” he whispered anxiously.

He felt a hand placed on his shoulder but it didn’t scare him, it was a benevolent force. He couldn’t see the hand because his extrasensory skills weren’t sufficiently developed yet. But he heard a voice, deep and warm, and the language it spoke was like the one Sölve used to speak a long time ago when he told Heike the stories about the Ice People. That language was Swedish. This language was so close to it that he could understand it easily.

“No, Heike of the Ice People. Your wanderer cannot reach you here because he has his own tasks to see to. But you’re not alone. Your task here will be difficult, much too difficult for a young man to achieve alone. We cannot fight the evil here ourselves. But we can act through you, if you are strong and brave enough.”

Heike nodded. “Thank you,” he stammered. “I have been told that my ancestress Villemo received help from the deceased members of the Ice People who were ‘touched’ and were fighting for good, and I feel that is exactly what is happening to me now. Who are you?”

“There are three of us. We represent the strongest forces we have for a task like this. You have probably heard of us.”

“Are you ... Tengel the Good?”

“That is correct. And I have Sol with me. She enjoys upsetting the apple cart of ruthless women. The third one is Mar, who knows everything about the strengths and weaknesses of evil. Go on now! We are here to help you. But you won’t notice our presence. You must think and act on your own. And be careful not to let her overwhelm you!”

Then the hand disappeared. Heike was once again alone on the meadow.

He breathed deeply three times and then began the ascent towards the castle.

Peter was in seventh heaven. He was sitting in a great hall in the castle alongside the two ladies, Princess Feodora and the small, fearful Nicola. He didn’t think much of the food, though: it tasted like dry grass, which was perhaps not so strange since his mouth was dry from the exultant state he was in.

Princess Feodora conversed with him easily and seemed enthusiastic about having such a well-read and cultivated guest.

Peter was having a splendid time, dropping literary allusions and making profound statements. At least, that was what he told himself.

He wanted so badly to make an impression on quiet little Nicola.

Time after time their eyes would meet across the table and he would smile at her encouragingly. On his arrival he had been alone with her for a brief moment, in which she had clung to his hand and whispered while looking at him with her big doe eyes. “Take me away from here, won’t you please? She is ... she is ... a witch and she is keeping me prisoner. I cannot escape on my own, I am bound hand and foot.”

And Peter had solemnly promised to save her. She had given him a pleading look and the cheerful young student from Vienna had felt his chest swell with pride and his protective instinct grow.

Nicola could rest assured. He would go nowhere without her.

Every now and then he felt a pang of guilt. He had run off from the inn without letting Heike know.

Heike had forbidden him to go looking for Nicola alone. They were to make a plan together to help the unhappy girl.

But Peter hadn’t had time to wait for Heike. The passion of love burned within him, his hands had been restless, and he had been unable to stand still. Like a hunter he had run across the meadow following the directions of the kitchen maid.

She had looked pleadingly at him, that little kitchen maid! As though she didn’t want him to go up there. Perhaps she herself had fallen a little bit in love with him, the poor girl! The same was true of Mira – she clearly worshipped him. But he couldn’t force himself to care for someone.

And once you had laid eyes on Nicola, no one else could compare.

It was certainly fortunate that Heike hadn’t noticed her the previous evening. Otherwise that amiable soul would undoubtedly have been disappointed, because it was clear that Nicola had eyes only for Peter!

The eerily scrawny coachman entered and whispered something to the princess. Her eyes flickered anxiously and she posed a sharp question in her own language. The coachman looked gruff and they exchanged questions and answers for a little while. Finally the princess smiled but it wasn’t a pleasant smile, but rather an expectant, triumphant one.

Then she turned to the two young people and spoke gently in German, a language both women knew. “A guest has arrived whom I must attend to. Dear Nicola, will you take Peter into the great hall and tell him a little about the history of the castle?”

Nicola’s eyes flashed with terror for a second. “Yes, Aunt Feodora.”

She quickly took hold of Peter’s hand and pulled him with her into the great hall, in which the heavy, dark roof beams seemed to add even more weight to the general impression.

Nicola leaned against him briefly. “I’m so thankful that it was you who came and not your ugly companion.”

Her words made Peter giddy with joy but at the same time he felt a certain disloyalty towards Heike.

“Heike is a very fine man,” he murmured guiltily.

She shuddered. “He looks so frightening! So ugly! And you’re so handsome, Peter!”

He put his arms around her slender figure and looked into her pleading eyes. “We will leave Târgul Stregesti together, you and I and Heike and Mira!”

She whimpered a little, “No, only you and me! Only you and me!”

“Yes, well, the others can find their own way out, I suppose,” he admitted. “As long as I get you out of here!”

“Yes, please try, Peter! I know you can!”

“Should we try to escape now?”

“No, that won’t do. Our coachman is keeping watch at the door. But tonight, when everyone is sleeping.”

Peter felt intoxicated. Everything paled beside his wish to save Nicola’s life.

He didn’t learn much about the history of the castle. The two young people were completely absorbed in one another. They sat down on a bench and exchanged plans for the future as they gingerly caressed one another with their fingertips, exchanged cautious kisses and glances that were considerably more revealing than their awkward touches.

He couldn’t get enough of her. Her lips were rosy red, her midnight black hair as shiny as the finest silk and her eyes as clear as the stars.

“Oh, Peter, how I hope we will be able to escape! She always manages to prevent it at the very last minute, but this time ...”

“Always?” Peter asked, jealously.

“Yes, I have, of course, tried to escape several times on my own. And others have tried to help me – I won’t deny that. But she ruins it for me every time. Oh, Peter, you have no idea how horrible this is for me. It is indescribable! She is an evil, terrible witch!”

Nicola collapsed against his strong shoulder.

His gaze grew dark. “I could kill her, that witch! What a power-crazed old hag!”

“Yes,” Nicola sobbed. “She’s so pretty, you see, so she wants all the men who visit the castle. She wants them for herself ...”

“Yes, I noticed that she tried to attract my attention at first,” Peter said eagerly. But when she discovered that I only have eyes for you, she practically got angry with me ...”

“Yes, and that’s why she hates me, because I have my whole life in front of me. She’s afraid that I’ll steal the men we meet away from her; she is jealous and uses the most detestable tricks. You can’t imagine.”

He looked at her tenderly. “Tomorrow morning you’ll be far away from here. I promise you that.”

“Oh, Peter! Come, let’s go into the next room.”

Heike hesitated for a long time outside the gate, scanning the massive walls that looked as though they consisted of nothing but boulders. He reached out his hand several times to touch them but at the last minute didn’t dare to. Not after the vision he had seen earlier in the day.

At last, however, he finally got up the courage to quickly touch the wall, only to pull his hand back just as quickly as though he had been burned, but the wall consisted of stone and nothing else. Then he placed his hand on it again, caressing the cold surface.

In other words, it had just been an illusion, generated by the mandrake. It was asking him to be careful: it had exaggerated the danger so that he wouldn’t run any unnecessary risks.

Heike could still remember the sound – the nasty, almost droning sound of big birds of prey echoing in the valley. Were they vultures? He wasn’t certain because he had only heard the birds in that ghastly vision that he would never forget.

Finally he pulled himself together and knocked on the gate.

The gate was opened by an unusually pale and scrawny man. Heike explained his intention: he believed his friend was there, and he wanted to talk with him.

The man asked him to wait and shut the gate.

Heike looked down into the valley, down at the ruins of a village that must have been a good deal bigger than Târgul Stregesti. He saw sheep grazing among the ruins and he saw the horrible forest that was invading the entire valley, all the way to the foot of the castle here.

A shudder of disgust shook him. He had to try to get Peter out, and they would have to leave as fast as the horses could carry them.

The horses, yes. How were they to catch them now that they were half-wild?

The scrawny man returned. He asked the young man to be so kind as to follow him ...

Heike was willing to do so.

Then he was inside. He soaked up everything, registering every single step, every single nook and cranny. He might be in need of this knowledge later.

How he wished he had his most precious possession and most loyal friend, the mandrake, with him! But he knew very well that letting Mira borrow it had been the only thing to do. Partly for her sake, and partly for his own.

Why in the world had they let him in? Did they realize that he no longer had the mandrake? Or was there some other reason?

He wasn’t so sure that he wanted to know the reason. The answer could easily be unpleasant, to say the least.

What if he was walking into a trap? He, the only one who could get them all out of there!

At the same time he also knew that there was nothing he could accomplish outside. If he were to help Peter, he would have to go into the castle before it was too late.

Heike was shown into a room that must be the dining hall. The dignified lady he had seen the night before came to greet him.

Peter was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the young Nicola.

Again, it occurred to him that they might be intending to outwit and neutralize him, the princess and her strange coachman.

The attractive woman gave him a radiant smile. “Welcome, young man! Didn’t we meet down at the inn last night just as my young relative began feeling unwell?”

Feeling unwell, Heike thought. You were the one who was in such a hurry to get out.

The princess put out her hand for him to kiss, but Heike had not been brought up in the finer circles. He was only familiar with the rustic and natural lifestyle of Slovenian farmers, so he took her hand, bowed deeply and politely and then let go of it again.

This did not escape the princess’s attention. Now she knew what kind of person he was.

How was he to address her? Heike realized that his upbringing had been lacking in many ways. But not when it came to expressing compassion and human warmth: those were things he had learned a lot about. Rather it was certain formalities that he was ignorant of.

“Your Honourable Excellency,” he attempted, which was not a bad beginning. She certainly couldn’t take that as an insult. “Forgive me for intruding in your beautiful home like this, but my friend came here yesterday, and we must leave Târgul Stregesti sooner than we had planned, unfortunately, so I’ve come to fetch him. Is he here?”

If there had been any hocus-pocus or devilry on her part he would have expected her to deny everything. But she didn’t. Princess Feodora managed to surprise him again.

“Yes, young Peter,” she smiled. “He is here, but right now he is taking a tour of the castle with Nicola. They will probably be finished soon. Can I offer you something to eat while you are waiting?”

“No, thank you very much. I’ve already eaten.”

“Well, in that case, why don’t we also take a walk around, then we might meet them, even though the castle is big. It’s what I enjoy doing most, strolling around and talking about all the antiquities here, and it’s so seldom that we receive guests.”

She took him confidently by the arm and led him into the next room. Heike could feel her sensual magnetism. It felt exceptionally strong, at least to an inexperienced man like himself.

As they walked, Feodora told him everything she had once told Yves. About the bold Bogdan who mowed down his guests as he rode his horse along the top of a table; about Anciol’s bridal gown; about Boris the voivode who saved Ardeal from the Turks, and his four wives who would have scratched each other’s eyes out if they had had the opportunity. And about the two brothers who were decapitated by the Turks at Mohács in 1526.

“You yourself are of voivode descent, I understand,” Heike said politely. They were standing admiring Anciol’s fantastic bridal gown.

Feodora wistfully touched the crisp silk of the dress. “Yes, I am. My father was the last voivode of his bright and shining lineage.”

Heike couldn’t see anything bright or shining about decapitating other people or shutting women up in cramped spaces.

“How have you managed to preserve Anciol’s bridal gown for all those centuries?” Heike asked, impressed.

“It’s because it’s so magnificent,” Feodora answered gently. “And because she swore that it wouldn’t be used before her wedding day, which never came about.”

Heike nodded. “She must have been very desirable. How was it that she was betrayed?”

“Ah well, you know the whims of love: sometimes it is bestowed on the most unworthy people – as, for example, her betrothed’s new infatuation, who was nothing compared to Anciol. And perhaps Anciol had a weakness ...”

She paused. It seemed as though she felt she had said too much.

Heike looked at the princess encouragingly. “What weakness?”

“Oh, nothing,” Feodora answered, with a dismissive gesture of her hand as she turned away. “Perhaps a longing to be loved that was just a little too obvious. That sort of thing can sometimes seem terrifying. Look, this is my father’s princely crown: look at the precious stones with which it has been decorated! This ruby alone is worth a fortune ...”

“I see,” Heike answered, absentmindedly.

What was it Zeno had said about the princess? That she was man crazy?

Yes, in the light of her behaviour, even the ugly and inexperienced Heike was able to grasp that something was going on.

But then there was what she had said about Anciol: “A longing to be loved that was a little too obvious.” The word “love” had a double meaning – that much he knew. It could mean an emotional kind of love or a more earthy and physical kind of love.

Perhaps “man crazy” was mostly a reference to the latter kind? What if it was a reference to one and the same person?

Suddenly a chill ran down Heike’s spine. He was walking behind Feodora, who was swaying her hips daringly as she walked. Her black silk dress was decidedly provocative and she had put up her hair, drawing attention to her slender, white, alluring neck. Heike thought that her hair must reach almost down to her knees and for the first time in his life he experienced sexual attraction to someone. He had hitherto lived such a chaste life, because his mother, Elena, had never let him so much as even look at the village girls.

Of course, he knew that had been for his own sake, so that he wouldn’t be rejected and get hurt. Heike had no illusions about his physical appearance – he had seen his reflection in puddles and polished metal objects often enough.

Feodora’s hand on her dress ... so tender ... so wistful! As if it had been her own bridal gown. Heike couldn’t help but think those thoughts.

“Well, shall we look at the gallery?” Feodora asked cheerfully and eagerly. “Perhaps the young people are in there?” She turned towards him. “Yes, I definitely think you should take young Peter away from here as quickly as possible,” she answered with deadly sweetness. “We must try to find him.”

Hearing those words, Heike came to two conclusions. First, that Feodora was jealous of Nicola. She wanted the young man for herself or they might as well get lost. If she could play a trick on Nicola by luring the boy away from her, she would be happy. Heike was not significant in that regard, he wasn’t handsome; Nicola didn’t want him.

The other thing that occurred to Heike was that he ought to see if he could get out of here. Inside the castle was not where he could strike down the evil force of this place, it was in the cemetery, at the overgrown graveyard of the lords of the castle. The one surrounded by the fine iron fence.

In there he would have to locate the grave of the unhappy Anciol – or rather, the Princess Feodora. Because they were one and the same person!

The knowledge brought back to him the terrifying vision from that morning. He felt his sense of fear growing as the princess led him through winding passages towards the gallery. It was as though he heard harsh, bleating cries from carrion-eating birds and now it felt as though the ceiling in the hallway might crash on top of him at any moment. He heard the heavy sound of dripping water running down mouldy walls, he thought he saw the beautiful hide on the floor rot before his eyes, revealing maggots crawling around below. No, he must stop being so morbid, it was all just figments of his imagination.

There was one thing for which he could find no explanation. At the start of the tour they had passed a carved door. Feodora didn’t go anywhere near it; on the contrary, she went on speaking very intently, as though she were trying to distract his attention and prevent him from asking about it.

But Heike had, with his new, heightened senses, immediately grasped that there was something special about this door. Behind it had to be the very heart of the castle, the focus of all its evil nature.

He tried to combine this with the vision he had seen in the morning when he was still wearing the mandrake around his neck. How was he to understand it? Where was the centre if you placed one image on top of the other – the horrifying vision and the architecture of the castle?

He couldn’t figure it out now because Feodora was talking incessantly as she opened the arched door to the gallery.

One thing was clear, however: he had to get down to the cemetery.

Down to the grave of the betrayed bride, Anciol.

She was one of the “undead” and she had to be neutralized.

Afterwards he could start working on the castle if necessary.

But the power of evil would most likely be broken by then.

One thing Heike hadn’t considered was that it was only with great reluctance that the undead would give up their powers!