C13 Chapter 13

Agnete was shocked as she walked out of the courtyard of Linden Avenue. She didn’t even want Henning to walk her home, although he had offered to do so. She decided to leave while everybody was busy in the stable.

As a priest’s daughter, she had reacted strongly to the family’s distancing itself from the unfortunate Ulvar. She hadn’t expected this kind of behaviour, because they had always seemed so compassionate. A delusional human being, as Ulvar apparently was, ought to be given their full support and not to be sent away. That was something snobbish people did for their own comfort!

Well, perhaps they hadn’t been entirely negative after all. They had said it was for his own good because people would harass him if he lived at Linden Avenue. But even so! No, it was unacceptable, you had to stand by your nearest and dearest no matter how many problems they created.

She started and let out a surprised sob. From behind one of the linden trees on the avenue leapt a creature so grotesque in the pale moonlight that for a moment she thought she would faint. Was it a devil from ...?

She hadn’t thought much further than that when this obnoxious creature grabbed her with long, hard arms, holding her firmly in its grip. A deformed face appeared right in front of hers. In the evening darkness, it seemed as if the evil forces of hell had seized power on earth.

“Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?” the creature hissed.

“I’m the priest’s daughter and I was visiting Henning Lind of the Ice People,” she said in one breath.

The creature loosened its grip. “Henning, I see. How is my little foster-father?”

Agnete gasped. “Ulvar? Are you Ulvar of the Ice People?”

That this monster could be the twin brother of the wonderful Marco was unbelievable.

“Are you ... Ulvar?” she stammered again.

Then he laughed, which didn’t sound very nice. “Perhaps. Is Marco here?”

“Marco lives with Malin and Per Volden.” Agnete tried in vain to regain her composure. She tried not to look at him anymore because she felt she couldn’t bear it. What on earth had happened to his nose? In an already terribly deformed face?

She felt enormous pity for him. He must have suffered a lot. And here she was, exactly like all the others, distancing herself from the poor young man. She straightened her back and looked him bravely in the face, even if she felt waves of nausea come and go.

“Yes. Marco lives with Malin. I know,” he said in his hoarse, toneless voice. “Is he at home now? And not at some damn school?”

His swearing made her extremely uncomfortable. She needed time to teach him manners and decorum. “No. Marco has finished his school exams and is at home now.”

“His exams are bound to have gone well,” Ulvar sneered.

“Very well,” said Agnete in a tremulous voice. “Who would ... you like to visit first? Marco or Henning?”

“Visit?” he hissed. “I’ll be living there. Where Marco is. But, before that, I want to give the people at Linden Avenue a terrible shock. So that they wet their trousers.”

Agnete instinctively took a step backwards in horror. The unpleasant laughter came again.

“They know that you’re on your way. I’m a good friend of the family.”

“Of Henning, eh?” Ulvar giggled. “Don’t tell me if you don’t want to, it’s none of my business. Oh, so they know I’m on my way? What a shame.”

Agnete became eager. She visualized a task of mercy for herself, forgetting her previous standpoint and accepting the Ice People’s way of thinking. “They’re concerned. They’re worried about you. That you will be persecuted by people in the parish. So they wanted to find a sheltered place for you to stay in the neighbourhood. I happened to think of a place.”

Ulvar’s yellow eyes turned narrow. “So they want to get me out of the house, eh?”

“No, no, on the contrary.” Agnete tried to convince him, but it was half-hearted, because this was precisely what she had thought. She wanted to help Ulvar because they had been so negative towards him.

He was certainly repulsive!

No, she mustn’t think such negative, unchristian thoughts! She had a calling, a mission.

Now Ulvar had another look in his eyes, but Agnete was too inexperienced and naive to interpret it. While she gazed into the distance letting her plan take shape, his eyes glided up and down her body.

Henning’s girl, perhaps? It seemed so.

This could be fun! Sanctimonious Henning ... “You said you know of a place?”

Agnete woke up. Ugh, she would never get used to his guttural voice. But she had to! This was something her Christian faith demanded of her.

“Yes. The old smallholding by the vicarage is empty at the moment, it’s to be demolished next summer and new villas are to be built there. Nobody goes there: you can live there if you want to.”

Ulvar thought about it.

Agnete glanced at him sideways. She thought that she needed to be able to understand. My heart is full of compassion for this sad, pathetic creature. He never asked to look the way he does and the same can be said about his horrible behaviour. It must be awful for him to look in the mirror, he must have a tremendous inferiority complex. I’m sure he’s a good human being really; every human being is pure in their soul and heart. It’s not his fault that he’s so rough. I must try to reach his soft nature under the brusque façade he’s showing the world. Poor boy! Although everybody distances themselves from him, I want him to know that I’m his friend!

I’ll sacrifice myself completely for the benefit of this man. That would please God. He’s Henning’s relative. Marco’s brother and Malin’s relative, too. All these fine people! I’d like to do this for their sake. And of course, for poor Ulvar’s sake as well.

Ulvar’s thoughts were all over the place. Now he needed to play his cards well. He wanted to meet Marco. But he didn’t give a damn about the others.

Oh, well, sooner or later he would find Marco. Priests are well off!

Ulvar put on an expression of devastation. “You’re absolutely right. I shan’t trouble my loved ones with my presence. My name and reputation are tainted. Tell them that I’ve found a home and that everything’s fine! Then just give me the key to the smallholding and I shan’t be a nuisance to anybody.”

“Of course, you must have some food – I suppose it’s a while since you had anything to eat? I can bring some food this evening.”

He had guessed she would say that and suppressed a pleased smile.

“I won’t say no to some food. You’re much too kind.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. But don’t you want to say hello to your relatives, after all?”

“Not yet. Not until I stand on solid ground and can appear before them with a pure heart.”

Hell, what platitudes I can rattle off! Does she honestly believe in such drivel? Yes, apparently. How stupid can these self-sacrificing women be?

“I’ll give you the key immediately,” said Agnete, her eyes radiating joy at the thought of being allowed to help.

Hell’s bells, Ulvar thought with a grimace behind her back.

Agnete had been brought up very strictly. Complete obedience towards the grown-ups, always keeping her eyes down in the presence of men, never opening her mouth without first being spoken to, reading the Bible morning and evening, constant interrogation as to where she had been ...

It was only in the company of the Ice People that she could feel free. She had got to know them through Benedikte and Christoffer. Since the girl was extremely big for her age, not exactly a striking beauty, and conspicuous in so many ways, she had encountered so many problems at school that Henning had decided to take her out of it. They recruited a governess, and that was Agnete. She was so proficient that Christoffer was also taken out of the rather sluggish school – “So that Benedikte can have company.”

The arrangement worked well, and Agnete was happy to spend a few days every week at Linden Avenue. She shed the anxiety that her strict upbringing had caused, and she came to like Henning in quite a special way. But she was older than him, and he didn’t seem to regard her as anything but a governess. Then there were her mother and father ... She had had to promise them that she would never get married.

Now she was responsible for Henning’s poor, ostracized relative. Oh, she would do everything for that boy so that Henning would be pleased with her.

She had to admit that she disliked the idea of taking care of Ulvar. But it wasn’t his fault that he looked and behaved the way he did. She would do this really well. The biggest good deed of her life!

Henning gazed at Agnete as he went into the room they had arranged as a schoolroom. She had become so hectic in recent days. For a whole week she had been like it. So ... secretive, with a strained look in her eyes. What was the matter? Why was she like this? She was also so eager to leave straight after the lessons! She, who had always stayed behind for a while with the children, something Henning had really appreciated. Now she hardly had time to say goodbye.

He looked at the crocheted bag she carried over her shoulder. It had seemed strangely heavy in recent days. So that she was almost lopsided. As usual, Benedikte clung to her hand, and Henning was concerned when he saw that his eleven-year-old daughter was almost as tall as Agnete. He felt sorry for his young daughter. Tall women weren’t usually very popular these days.

Henning was struggling with himself. One woman had let him down: his first wife. She had robbed him of a large part of his self-confidence. He had bent over backwards to please her, been as nice and kind as he possibly could – which was quite a lot – but all he had received was mockery and humiliation. Bungler, fool, lazybones, dud and similar insults had rained over him.

All this had prevented him from moving forward with regard to Agnete.

Now he was uneasy. She looked the way women sometimes appear when they are in love. Or when someone is striving for a high ideal, this is how they become.

Henning felt that perhaps she might slip out of his hands. That mustn’t happen. Suddenly he knew that life would be unbearable without Agnete.

He paced back and forth out in the corridor during the whole lesson. Then, at last, her two pupils came out. He asked Agnete to stay for a while. There was something he wanted to talk to her about.

Agnete was remarkably nervous. She looked at the big clock that hung in the corridor among the age-old portraits of Silje’s children. “Er ... I don’t know ... I’m rather short of time,” she said with a movement towards her big bag.

Once again, Henning wondered what was in it. Her school books didn’t take that much space. He was sure of that. “Would you, please? It’s important,” he said quickly before he lost courage.

She nodded and the children went outside. Henning took her back into the schoolroom because they would be left in peace there.

The fact that she was in such a hurry made him even more nervous, and his words might not have been as well chosen as he would have wished. Anyway, he managed to tell her that he needed a mother for his daughter – oh, what an insulting declaration of love, it had to be the worst thing he could have said – and added that he needed a wife. Those were his words; it sounded as if what he needed most was an unpaid housekeeper.

Agnete looked down and her blush spread down to her throat. It was a while before she replied: “Thank you, Henning, but I have an assignment ...”

What sort of an answer was that? Henning could see that her choice of words made her confused. “What I mean is ... I can’t give you an answer right now, you see,” she stuttered so that the words didn’t sound right. “I ...”

Her voice died away.

Henning realized that if he didn’t express himself properly he would lose her. He fumbled, stretching out his hand, and took hers. “Agnete, I can’t get the words out that I wanted to say. I feel great ... tenderness towards you. I would like you to be my wife because I can’t live without you.”

He saw that she was taking a deep breath. She chose her words carefully.

“I’ve received your offer with happiness,” she said formally. “If you’ll only give me some time, I’ll present the matter to Mother and Father. But ...”

“I’ll ask them myself, of course,” Henning said. “But first of all, I just want to know whether you ... like the thought.”

Henning thought: goodness, isn’t it possible to be less formal? But this was what the times were like. A strait-laced attitude to life had reached Norway from England, from Queen Victoria, and in this year, 1883, small-minded respectability and hollow moralism reigned in most countries in Europe. Norway was no exception.

Agnete’s eyes were still lowered. “I ... I think the thought pleases me,” she almost whispered. “However, if you’ll be patient with me for a little while ... I’ll soon tell you more. Then we can decide on the question of going to my parents.”

Finally, she looked directly at him, with eyes full of pain. “But I think it’s hopeless,” she whispered and ran out.

Henning gritted his teeth. That hadn’t gone well. And what was the secret that she was talking about?

Ulvar was doing well. In fact, he was doing so well that he would have liked to stay for a long time in the smallholding. But he couldn’t, of course, because he had an objective. He was to liberate Tengel the Evil. Since the matter of the flute had been unsuccessful, he had to turn to other means. He had drawn up a plan. According to the Ice People’s book, the easiest way of getting in touch with the ancestor was in the Valley of the Ice People. That was where he would have to go. However, he needed to be prepared so he didn’t have to flee, as Ulvhedin and Ingrid and Heike and Tula had done.

Now he had to get hold of the treasure, even if it meant violence and death: that was irrelevant to Ulvar. This part of his plan wasn’t quite ready yet. It would come. But he definitely needed to take the treasure with him to the Valley of the Ice People.

In the meantime, he was enjoying Agnete’s devoted benevolence. Every day, she would bring him food and other good things. He was most comfortable in bed, and she saw to it that he didn’t need anything.

After the miserable years in the institution, this was like a dream come true for Ulvar. So he behaved as nicely as he possibly could when she was there. Of course, she was very shy and probably also very scared of him, but he smirked and used his finest language. He had dug out the long-forgotten good manners that Malin and Henning had taught him, and he often complained about a pain here or there, because he had noticed that this triggered Agnete’s compassion and care. When she arrived he made sure he was in bed with a “temperature”. Then she would stroke his forehead gently and make a hot drink. He had persuaded her to smuggle some schnapps out of the vicarage. He got a couple of shots of it in his hot drink – because she was careful not to let him have the whole bottle, the miserable woman!

She looked really lovely. Until Ulvar had his plan ready, he had to make do with lying comfortably in bed, gazing at her while she busied herself around the place, washing and tidying and preparing food for him.

“At home, I just tell them that I was delayed at Linden Avenue,” she confided one day.

But today, she was a bit out of sorts. He could see that her hands were shaking when she handed him the cup. Her cheeks were a hectic red, which didn’t go away all the time she was there.

“Has anything happened?” he asked in his gentlest voice.

She started and looked at him. She had not yet got used to his horrible appearance: she still shuddered a bit and looked as if she had eaten some bad food. However, she was brave and never complained.

“Anything happened?” she replied, confused. “No, what could that be?”

“Well, how would I know? Do they never enquire about me?” he wanted to know.

“At Linden Avenue? No, why would they ask me? Henning mentions you from time to time. He wonders what’s become of you. He knew that the wolf had come.”

“Did he really say that?”

“Doesn’t he call you the wolf? That was what I thought he meant. I mean, your name is Ulvar, so it would be natural ...”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said impatiently. “Let’s stop talking about that. Why are you so embarrassed at talking about Henning?”

Ulvar felt that she seemed to be filled with religious devotion. She took a deep breath and started to tell him what she had tried to be quiet about the whole day.

“Henning asked me if I would marry him. I think it’s all right to tell you because you’re a close relative.”

Ulvar had sat up. He gazed at her with eyes that had turned yellow. “What?” was his mocking laughter. “Henning proposed to you? Today? How did you answer?”

Agnete was hurt by his tone. And she didn’t like the fact that he was getting out of bed. Incidentally, he didn’t seem the least bit ill.

Slightly offended, she said: “I thanked him for his kindness but asked him to wait for an answer until I’ve finished my assignment. Then we’ll speak to my mother and father, and that won’t be easy.”

Ulvar paced about on his stockinged feet like a predator out hunting. He had been lying in bed with his clothes on and the room smelt stale. Agnete found Ulvar horribly offensive.

“So what will you say to Henning?” he mocked. “Do you want that sluggish old man?”

“Yes,” was Agnete’s reply, which was sharper than she had intended. She felt that Henning deserved to be defended by her. “He’s not at all sluggish, just thoughtful and good-hearted. He’s a fine man.”

Her objection provoked Ulvar. He became reckless, dropped his ingratiating attitude, and walked up close to her. She pulled back immediately.

Through gritted teeth, he said: “Henning is a devil. Did you know that?”

“He most certainly isn’t!”

Ulvar could see that she was utterly disgusted by his closeness so he moved even closer. “Henning lied to me. All my life, he has lied to me! The Ice People’s treasure belongs to the cursed, and nobody, nobody in that damned house ever even told me that there was a treasure. They’ve hidden it from me, stolen it from me, but this is the end. They’re going to pay for it. And Henning ... will be the first!”

“No,” Agnete gasped. “You can’t do him any harm, he’s taken care of you ever since you were born. In fact, he helped you into the world!”

“He’s stolen my treasure!” yelled Ulvar. “And now I’ll steal his!”

“His treasure? What do you mean?” Agnete asked. She was trembling all over and cast a sidelong glance towards the door. But he was blocking the way.

Ulvar took a step forward and with a swift movement he tore her dress to pieces. She screamed and pulled it together over her bosom. Ulvar hit her hands and pulled her dress away from her shoulders.

Agnete shouted: “No! No, no, what are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Shut up, you pathetic, sanctimonious cow,” said Ulvar with clenched teeth. “Now you’ll have a taste of something you’ve dreamt about all your spinsterish life. Sitting here, reading children’s books to me! Don’t you understand that I’m sick and tired of it? Did you imagine that it would make me change my ways? But your god is just shit! My ruler is so strong that he ...”

Ulvar lacked the words and the imagination, and he compensated by placing both his hands around Agnete’s neck. “If I twisted this chicken neck, what would you say to that?”

Nothing, I suppose, went through Agnete’s head, but the situation was much too serious for that. All of a sudden, she realized that she had made a dreadful mistake. Now his true, horrible character was out in the open. He was very, very dangerous!

“I beg you not to kill me,” she hissed, because he had squeezed so hard that she could hardly speak.

Then Ulvar loosened his grip with a hoarse, horrible laugh – the familiar Ulvar-laughter she had heard before.

“Your life? No, I’ve no intention of damn well taking your life, that would be too simple a revenge on Henning. No, he’ll have you – violated! Then we’ll see whether he still wants you.”

“No!” Agnete shouted, but she was squeezed into a corner and there was no escape. Ulvar undid his belt.

She became hysterical. “Don’t touch me,” she yelled with her hands in front of her face. “Don’t touch me, you ...”

“Ah, what was it you were about to say?” he said, laughing broadly. “What am I?”

“A monster!”

She threw herself forward in despair trying to get past him but just landed in his arms. She could feel that he didn’t have any clothes on the lower part of his body. Agnete screamed wildly.

For a while, everything was chaos. She fought to get away and he grabbed her again as soon as she had a moment of hope, and each time he tore off more and more of her clothing. At last, she had nothing to cover herself with. She fell on her knees, bent forward, with her arms crossed in front of her.

Ulvar grabbed her hair and pulled her up brutally. She refused to look at the horrible, naked creature, covered with awful sores and scars and so ... so bestial in his behaviour.

“I promise to speak to Henning about the treasure,” she shouted desperately. “I’ll ask on your behalf and demand that he gives it to you.”

For a moment of dizzying hope, she felt him hesitate as if he was considering the possibility. “I promise,” she sobbed. “I won’t give in until you have the treasure.”

Agnete didn’t know what the treasure consisted of. She thought it was something of material value. She had no idea how dangerous the treasure could be in the hands of one of the cursed, if that person was evil – and Ulvar was one of the worst stricken.

With a swift movement, he threw her down to the floor again. “Ah, so you thought you could get away with that? Make them hand the treasure over to me? You certainly have a high opinion of yourself, you miserable cow!”

She tried to crawl away but he just grabbed her by the waist and threw her on the bed. Agnete screamed again, scared out of her mind and totally revolted.

Ulvar was livid and stuffed a filthy rag in her mouth. “Now shut up, cow, and stop all this nonsense.”

Suddenly, the situation had become really serious. She couldn’t get away. She hit and scratched and punched and kicked, but what could she do? Ulvar had the upper hand once he had managed to get the stubborn woman under him.

Full of abhorrence, despair and sorrow, she felt him take possession of her. The fact that it hurt terribly was unimportant; what was much worse was the boundless disgust she felt at having him inside her. The whole act was so humiliating and degrading that Agnete was surprised she didn’t die of shame.

However, it must be said to her credit that she went on struggling all the time. So Ulvar didn’t have an easy conquest. He had to fight for a long time to have an orgasm. When he finally did, he was so exhausted that he just collapsed. Agnete had enough strength left to push him off forcefully and kick him down on to the floor, where she emptied his chamber pot all over him.

Then she grabbed her clothes and ran before he, roaring with fury, could crawl up from the wet, slippery floor.