C12 Chapter 12

The children were talking eagerly to one another in front of the barn. Dominic was the hero. After all, he was almost four years older than Villemo and Niklas, so they looked up to him as if he were a grown-up. This surprised him but didn’t make him feel uncomfortable at all. Dominic was a handsome boy, and exceptionally dark, even for a member of the Ice People. But then he happened to have French blood in his veins.

Villemo, who looked as if she would turn out to be a beautiful woman, with her red curls and pale complexion, was definitely not a gentle type. Her pale colouring made her stand out a lot from the other members of the Ice People. She desperately wanted to make an impression on Dominic, which made her behave awkwardly. She tried to make herself heard above the others, wanting to be in focus all the time.

Niklas had much of Tarjei in him: the slanted eyes and high cheekbones, the twinkle in the eyes and the slow smile. Niklas was a gentle, warm and quiet boy but gave the impression of containing something that one day would be expressed fully – like a dormant volcano.

Dominic was the innocent and warm-hearted one who only wanted the very best for everybody. His childhood, with an almost hysterically caring and loving mother, and a father who was always away from home, had made a strong impact on him. A certain nervous anxiety lay behind his apparently calm nature. Dominic’s telepathy meant that he understood people exceptionally well, but it was the very cause of his restlessness.

“We’re chosen,” said Villemo eagerly without realising that she was using the same expression as Kolgrim once had. “I’ve heard that there’s something special about those with yellow eyes. Now take Niklas. He has very warm hands. Once, I hit my elbow and then he put his hands around it and then the pain disappeared immediately. Almost.”

Dominic turned his bright eyes towards Niklas. “Is that true?” he asked.

Niklas nodded. “I don’t know how I do it, but that’s just how it is. It’s fun.”

“What about you, Dominic?” said Villemo eagerly. “Can you do something like that?”

Dominic thought for a moment. “Yes, I can actually. Not quite like Niklas but something else. Think about something Villemo. An awful lot. An object. Then I’ll guess what you’re thinking about.”

“Can you do that?”

“Sometimes. Try!”

Villemo closed her eyes tightly in intense concentration. She was concentrating so much that she tensed her shoulders, clenched her fists and curled her toes. She thought of the cake she had in her apron.

Dominic closed his eyes. “It’s square. Small and light brown. It can be eaten, and it actually tastes good. It’s hidden in a dark place. But there’s something strange about it. Is it something you’ve taken? Stolen?”

Villemo nodded without looking up. Niklas looked at them. His eyes were big.

“It’s not very far away,” continued Dominic. “I think it’s a cake, and that you have it in your pocket.”

Villemo opened her eyes and breathed out. “That’s amazing,” she said solemnly, fishing the cake out from her pocket. “You’re absolutely amazing!”

Dominic smiled. He was in his element. “What about you? What can you do?”

“Well, I ...”

Villemo stretched out her hand. “I can do a lot of things. Walk on water, spirit you away, make myself invisible ...”

“Really?”

She slumped a bit. “No, I can’t. Actually I can’t do anything” she answered, embarrassed. “Not yet. But I know that I will be able to do a lot when I’m grown up. Just think of what the three of us will do together, Dominic and Niklas!” Then she laughed. “I’ll say ‘Dominiclas’ when I call for the two of you, that way I’ll save some time.”

“Ugh, Tristan’s going to be rolled into the water barrel,” said Niklas.

“No, no. They just want to bathe him.”

“But then he’ll die. We’ll have to ... Now the grown-ups are on their way ...”

“What a commotion!” giggled Villemo.

Tristan was saved before he had time to get wet, and the little girls, Lene and Irmelin, stood silently, letting the shocked admonitions of the parents pour over them.

The three in front of the barn looked on with the conscience of the innocent. They could not help gloating just a little bit. Once peace had been restored, Villemo said, her eyes radiating, “I’m looking forward to being grown up.”

“So am I,” said Niklas. “Just imagine all the fun we can have together. We can cheat people and do all sorts of things.”

“Why can’t we just start now?” asked Villemo.

“No, are you crazy? They must never find out that we can do magic. Children are never allowed to do anything!”

“No, that’s true. We’ll have to learn it first. Then we’ll show them. Oh, I want to grow up – fast!”

“So do I.”

Dominic said nothing. He thought of his Dad and a big, black hand took hold of his child’s heart.

In the afternoon, Mikael sat next to Are, who was telling stories from his long life.

“Wait a moment, Granddad,” said Mikael. “Do you think there is something I could use to write on? I find it all so interesting that I’d like to write it down.”

Are was pleasantly surprised. “I’m sure Matilda can find some paper for you. But you won’t have time to write much because I speak very fast.”

“I’ll just write down a few key words. Then I’ll expand on it myself. I’ll write down everything that I heard yesterday and today. It would be fun to keep.”

“That’s an excellent idea.”

Mikael went into the drawing room where Andreas fetched some worn note paper, but it was okay to write on.

Are was breathing with difficulty. Mikael arranged his pillows so that he was comfortable and then he and the old man spent a pleasant afternoon in each other’s company. By the time supper was announced, Mikael had cramps in his hand from all the writing.

Mikael had an attack again that night. Dominic could not help knowing about it, so the little boy sat by his father’s bed and wept while he tried in vain to help. When Mikael came round again, he whispered with difficulty, “Thank you for your help, my dear boy. I didn’t intend to frighten you!”

“Dad, you mustn’t say what you said. You mustn’t.”

“What did I say?”

“You said: ‘Please allow me to die. It’s the only thing I wish for. To be allowed to rest, to have peace’”

“Did I say that? Don’t take any notice of that, Dominic. That is just something I say when I’m experiencing the worst part of the attack. I really have no idea what I’m saying when I’m feeling that way.”

“Where does it hurt? In your head?”

“No, in my soul, wherever that is, because I see something.”

“What do you see?”

The boy looked serious. Mikael knew that he really shouldn’t mention it, but he also realised that it was not easy for Dominic to live with the uncertainty. The boy would probably like to be shown some confidence.

“Something’s trying to get hold of me,” he began hesitatingly. “It’s been hidden for a long time in a haze which becomes darker and darker the closer it comes. I find myself in an endless vacuum, a kind of borderland which is completely black, and in that darkness, it comes closer. I’m beginning to discern the contours of it and what I see frightens me and makes me happy at the same time. Partly because it tempts me with something wonderful that is beyond it, and partly because I can’t evade it. Now there’s only one way for me.”

Dominic, who felt people’s anxiety and sometimes knew their thoughts, squeezed his father’s hand.

“I’ll help you,” Dominic said as he wiped away his tears. “I’ll hold on, stronger than anything else in the whole world. Thank you for telling me. I’ve been so scared but I didn’t dare ask.”

“Are you still scared?”

“Yes, more than ever. Mostly for whatever the horrible it is trying to tempt you with. What’s beyond is supposed to be so wonderful, but don’t believe it. I’ll fight back.”

“Thank you, my dearest friend! Thank you, my own, beloved boy!”

Mikael pulled Dominic to him, and the little boy crept up in his bed. With an arm under his father’s head, he fell asleep. But Mikael lay awake for a long while. Heavy tears trickled down his cheeks. He would not leave his wonderful son. But he had to. It was beyond his powers. He yearned so very desperately to be allowed to give up.

In his capacity as a higher-ranking officer in His Majesty King Frederik III’s army, Tancred Paladin was summoned to Akershus the following day. He would get an overview of the great many Swedish prisoners of war in Norway, during the battles between Norway and Sweden.

Tancred was talking to a Norwegian officer in the palace courtyard, where they had gathered a group of prisoners that were to be released.

“Why are you’re in Norway, Major Paladin?” asked the Norwegian.

“I’m visiting my relatives at Graastensholm.”

“Is that so?” The Norwegian was surprised. Paladin was a well-known name among the Danish nobility, and he was surprised to hear that they had Norwegian relatives.

Tancred explained, “Baroness Meiden of Graastensholm is my Grandmother. But she was born Lind of the Ice People, and nearly all of them belong to the branch out there.”

One of the Swedish prisoners reacted to this remark. He hesitated then moved closer. “Sorry, but did you say Lind of the Ice People?”

“Yes,” said Tancred curtly.

“I once knew a Lind of the Ice People. That was a few years ago. He was an officer in the Swedish army in Livonia.”

“That’s Mikael,” smiled Tancred. “He’s here now. I spoke with him just this morning.”

“Really? I’ve often wondered how things turned out for him. He was dreadfully sick the last time I saw him. I’ve never seen anybody break down like him.”

Tancred became interested. “Would you please tell me about that nervous breakdown? We’re finding it somewhat difficult to understand what’s wrong with him, and we’re very concerned.”

They excused themselves to the Norwegian officer and walked towards the rampart.

“Of course, in the beginning, we thought that he’d gone mad,” began the released prisoner. “And maybe he was mad in a sense. He babbled about an old estate and that we should go there and help the owner against some swindlers. Then we were actually sent there just before we were to leave for Poland. I’ll be the first to admit that everything was very strange at that estate.”

“Please tell me, I’m very interested to hear about it.”

The prisoner spoke about his visit to the estate. Tancred listened and became increasingly concerned. When the man had finished, the young Margrave Paladin exclaimed, “Come with me to Graastensholm – immediately. I’ll see to it that you’re given permission to move about in the Norwegian realm. Mikael must hear this!”

However, they did not go to Linden Avenue that day. Tancred still had a lot to do, so he couldn’t escape his commitments at Akershus Fortress that quickly.

The Swedish prisoner was impatient and wanted to travel home to Sweden as quickly as possible. Tancred became nervous. He had every reason to be.

The same day that Tancred had spoken with the prisoner, Mikael visited Graastensholm and Elistrand. He probably ate more than was good for him because they were so hospitable and generous at both places. He had long conversations with all of them while he took down notes about their lives. They had so much to tell him. Kaleb and Mattias’s long stay in the mines at Kongsberg, Tancred’s experiences in Jutland; Hilde’s meeting with the “werewolf,” Yrja’s and Tarald’s story; Alexander’s experiences in the Thirty Years’ War.

But Liv did most of the talking. She was seventy seven years old, so she had a long life to draw on.

“How interesting that you’re writing it all down, Mikael. My mother, Silje, kept a diary but when she and my father passed away, I was so distracted with grief, I mislaid it. I wish I’d had the opportunity to read it... You know how you can walk around with something in your hand and put it down somewhere without realising it?”

Mikael nodded. He knew exactly what she meant.

“Now it’s gone forever,” sighed Liv. “Somebody must have thrown it away. It’s a great shame. That’s why it’s so wonderful if you write it all down.”

“I’m enjoying it,” said Mikael, who had a new sparkle in his eyes. “I find it particularly important to have your own and Grandfather’s narratives included because you know of past generations who we’ve never met.”

Liv nodded.

“Mattias has given me a lot of good paper – the kind he uses at his job,” continued Mikael eagerly. “I plan to make a fair copy of my scrawl this afternoon before I forget what it was it was supposed to say.”

“Wonderful! The best thing of all is that you’ve found something that interests you. It always has an invigorating effect on a sorrow-stricken soul.”

But Mikael did not have time to make his fair copy. In the evening, Are’s health deteriorated – the joy and the excitement at Mikael’s arrival had proven to be too much for him.

“I’m afraid that the end is drawing near,” said a serious Brand.

“Isn’t there anything at all we can do ...?” asked Mikael.

“No. Mattias has done everything he can all along, and even young Niklas has put his small hands on Great Grandpa, but everything inside him is broken. Mattias says it’s a miracle that he’s been able to live this long. We all believe that it’s because he’s waited in desperation to get to see you. He has an incredible strength of will, you see. Then your homecoming came as if sent from heaven.”

“Thank God that Dominic got us here so quickly. I’ll keep a vigil over Granddad tonight, Uncle Brand.”

“Will you do that? That would make him happy. Niklas can share a bed with Dominic so that the boy has company.”

Mikael smiled. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Mikael lay listening to his Granddad’s ragged breathing in the quiet night. Are knew that he was there but he couldn’t manage to say anything. Every now and then he would open his eyes, sending his grandson a look filled with joy that he was there.

Mikael refused to sleep. He heard how the clock in the hall struck hour after hour. Now Granddad Are had fallen asleep. Or he was unconscious. He did not know which. Mikael felt a pang of jealousy. His Granddad was happy now that he had reached the peace which he, Mikael, had never been able to find. What a strange thought! Where did it come from, anyway? Right now, all he felt was a sadness that consumed him.

Then the anxiety came creeping up on him.

“No,” whispered Mikael. “Not now! Not now, I just can’t cope!”

He knew that the persecution was drawing to an end and that he had nothing to fight back with any longer.

‘Dominic... my son, Dominic!’ In desperation, he tried to focus his thoughts on his beloved son. It was no use thinking of Anette. She was beyond his powers in every sense. But Dominic...

‘My son needs me. I need him. I need him. I love him. Is that not enough to –’

But it was of no use. Nothing could hold him back any longer. He had reached the end of his own, personal Via Dolorosa, the road of pain and suffering. Now came darkness, the big darkness.

Mikael went into the empty drawing room so as not to disturb his Granddad. The hazy darkness was infinite now, filling the vacuum around him completely. In the darkness lay the unknown. It tempted and tugged at him, tempted and tugged. Mikael fell to his knees. The attack was so violent that he was unable to stand up.

‘Dominic...’

Who was Dominic? A name, a word, nothing more. Now it meant everything to him. Everything he had yearned for. The darkness and the haze vanished and he was surrounded by a wonderful landscape in clear colours and with beautiful music. So beautiful that it took his breath away.

Dominic lay awake in his own room while he tried to suppress his tears. Niklas was with him. It was good to have Niklas close by. They had such a nice time together, whispering to each other during the night. Nevertheless, Dominic felt despondent and at a loss.

‘I should have stayed with my Dad. He needs me. He mustn’t be alone because he becomes so sad,’ thought Dominic. ‘Dad mustn’t be sad. It isn’t good. I don’t know why but it’s not good for him. Granddad is with him now, so he isn’t completely on his own. But Dad can’t cope without me. I don’t know what it is but it feels like an empty pain inside me. Just like when you’re terribly scared. Dad! My sweet dad! I’m not even allowed to walk in there!’

Mikael woke up. He lay on the floor, exhausted and unable to move. He lay like that for a long time. Then he dragged himself up.

‘It’ had won. The struggle was over. Now he knew what he had to do. There was only one thing that separated him from the wonderful place he had just glimpsed. He pulled out a small vial of powder from his pocket. It had been there for a long time, which he didn’t want to admit. The powder was something that was, and was not, there. Once, when his hands had not been able to feel the vial through his shirt, a maddening anxiety got the better of him. When he had found it again – it was there, after all – he had felt so relieved that his knees had almost given way under him.

Now he took it out, found water in the kitchen and swallowed it. Finally, finally, it was done. Mikael closed his eyes while he breathed out slowly. An incredible peace engulfed him.

‘Dominic?’ he thought. He didn’t recognise the name, didn’t know anybody with that name. He went quietly into his Granddad’s bedroom. He lay down next to the old man in the broad double bed.

Are woke up very briefly. Mikael took Are’s hand in his. The old man fell asleep again with a relaxed smile on his face. After all these many years of yearning, his much loved grandson was there, right next to him.

A little later, Mikael, half asleep, heard a crunching sound from outside followed by a huge bang. Dominic, who had fallen asleep at last in his room, was woken up by the noise.

‘It was the old, tumbledown linden tree out on the avenue,’ Dominic thought to himself . He fell asleep once more.