C8 Chapter 8

Mikael tried to resume his studies at the University of Uppsala. It was not far from home, so it could easily be combined with his domestic life. Nevertheless, it was not long before he had to give up. The strange attacks would come more frequently, and he found them mentally tiring because he didn’t understand them. The wall between him and the surrounding world was still there, although Troll and Dominic would manage, from time to time, to break through it.

Anette had a doctor come and examine Mikael but, of course, he could find nothing wrong with him. Medical science knew nothing about mental disorders, and the doctor asked him a lot of questions which were totally wrong. He suggested blood-letting, which made Mikael furious.

The army kept on asking whether Mikael would soon be back in service, but he kept telling them no, and referred to his illness. He had been promoted to captain without having done anything in particular to deserve it. This made Anette immensely proud while Mikael just felt ill at ease.

Their marriage worked somehow. They tried to get close to one another in the few areas they had in common: their love of their son and the dog and the daily running of the farm and the house. When they touched upon more complex matters and would discuss other topics, the difficulties would arise immediately. Their philosophies were different and they often didn’t understand one another, although Mikael at least tried to see things from his wife’s perspective. But neither of them dared to take the first step towards a physical union.

Mikael always tried to be kind and considerate of others. It was only when he was alone in his room or when the attacks set in, that he fell into despair. He would sit for a long time with his face buried in his hands, in anguish over the unfathomable force that came from somewhere deep inside him, growing with each attack and threatening to pull him down into total darkness. He was powerless to stop it. Powerless over his life in general. He was going nowhere, didn’t know what he wanted, and was estranged from his fellow human beings. In the evening, he would draw the curtains carefully, so that not the least bit of light could enter the room.

But his son, Dominic, was of great help to him. Although he was only five, he had real empathy and a deep understanding of others. When things were most difficult for Mikael, he always tried to hide his attacks of melancholy from Anette. But Dominic would come and sit next to him, put his tiny hand in his and just be there. Then a tearful Mikael would draw his son to him in deep gratitude. It didn’t frighten the boy.

Mikael’s view of Anette had changed. He would often gaze at her when she didn’t notice it, hoping he could understand her by doing so. He wondered what she was like beneath the steely discipline her mother had enforced on her. However, considering their awkward relationship with each other, Mikael would probably never find out.

In Poland, the war ran its course. Carl Gustav won major battles and conquered Poland, but it was a bitter triumph. The Poles rebelled violently and the Swedes battled hard to keep their position. The King was feeling increasingly uneasy about the situation.

Marca Christiana had given birth to a son, whom she called Gabriel, and was now on her way back home. Back to her oldest son, Gustav Adolf, the only son left after the measles epidemic. She longed so much to see him again, to hold him in her arms and weep with him for the two little ones that had passed away. Her pain at not being with them in their final hour was immense. And now she was anxious to return and make amends with Gustav Adolf, who was now nine.

Gabriel Oxenstierna journeyed back with her. He was better able to conceal the pain over the death of the two sons, but his sorrow was definitely there. He had been made Reich Marshal and was eager to get home and begin his new duties instead of taking part in the pointless chaos in Poland. He also thought a lot about his foster son, Mikael. He didn’t like the reports he received from home because he simply didn’t understand them. Was the boy a coward? Was it a case of desertion? Or was he really so damaged in his soul, as Anette had said? He wanted to be at home so that he could see for himself.

Goodness knows how long the fragile peace in Mikael and Anette’s marriage would have lasted if Gabriel Oxenstierna had not returned home. After observing his foster son for a few months, he pulled him aside.

“When do you intend to return to serve again?”

Mikael looked down. “I don’t know. I’d rather not return at all.”

The tall civil servant and officer turned crimson in the face. “You’d rather not return? Is that all you have to say? Tell me, are you a coward?”

‘Coward,’ Mikael thought with bitterness. ‘Are you a coward if you go through hell just for the sake of somebody else’s whim?’

“No, Uncle Gabriel. I’m sick. Seriously sick.”

“That isn’t what the doctor says.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just can’t live among other people. I’ve never been able to and now it’s worse than ever. I’m being pulled into a kind of vacuum that threatens to swallow me.”

Count Oxenstierna stared searchingly at him for a while. “Rubbish. I don’t want to hear such nonsense. You’re a captain in the army, thanks to my influence, and now you’re here doing nothing! Well, not nothing – I can see that you’re keeping the farm in fine shape, but that isn’t enough if you’re a captain in His Majesty the King’s army. Especially now. The Danes fear that King Carl Gustav will invade the German Realm, then Denmark, so Frederik III has declared war on Sweden.”

Carl Gustav X was secretly delighted that he could retain his honour and break up from Poland, which was becoming increasingly difficult for him to keep. Or, as he put it: “This miserable country is so ravaged by war that my poor soldiers can’t even find any food.”

Gabriel Oxenstierna went on. “His Majesty the King wants me by his side and when the King summons me, I must obey. But I want you with me. You must join me on duty from now on so that I can keep an eye on you. It’s bound to get the better of your melancholy!”

Melancholy? The word sent a stream of unpleasantness through Mikael. When was the last time he had heard that word? From an old man in Livonia. Snowy weather. Cold feet. The smoke that rose from the houses. A gravestone in a deserted church... The dead aren’t good people ...

“Just you wait and see: A spot of action will liven you up,” said Gabriel Oxenstierna jovially. “Life in the field has turned many a weakling into a man.”

His intentions were good, but his reasoning was based entirely on his own background. In his kin, everyone had been warriors and officers. Mikael did not have those traditions in his family. But all of a sudden, Mikael felt that this was the route he should take in life. What was the point in objecting? He had been sucked into a career as a soldier, just as a whirlpool pulls you into its centre. For Mikael, it was useless trying to fight it. Sooner or later, he would have to let go.

He nodded in bitter resignation, promising to join Gabriel Oxenstierna. After all, he had nothing else to do. He had been at home for six months and nothing had changed. He still hadn’t found a purpose in life.

The evening before Mikael was due to leave, the event he had feared the most finally happened: Anette witnessed one of his attacks.

The evening had begun so well. They had been up later than usual, and suddenly Mikael said that he was hungry.

“At this time of night? When everybody else has gone to bed?”

“Let’s just go into the kitchen and make something.”

“We? We can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“No, honestly! There are rules ...”

He leaned forward. “Yes, Anette, there are rules that it would be wise to break. But then, of course, you can’t cook. What are you good at, in fact?”

He provoked her on purpose because he knew her after all. Her cheeks flushed red, but he went on, “Well, then, I’ll make something myself. I’ve done it before.”

Anette had got up. “No, it’s not that. Of course I can make food. I often did that back in France. Come, let me throw something together. At least, I hope I can,” she finished with a giggle.

He smiled: “That would be nice.”

The kitchen was the maid’s domain and the family members would only go there to give orders about the meals of the day. It was a large kitchen with a huge stove and lots of pots and pans hanging on the wall. Anette looked around helplessly.

“I can’t find my way around here at all,” she said, agitated and a little ashamed. “I believe this is the door to the pantry.”

Mikael had brought a candle with him. They both stepped into the pantry.

“There’s plenty of food here,” he said. “Here’s a basket with eggs ...”

“And I’ll cut a bit of the ham that’s hanging here. I can make a French omelette.”

“Splendid! Bread and butter... and cheese, we’ll take that.”

“The fire in the stove has gone out.”

“There are enough embers to get it going again. Let me fix it!”

Shortly afterwards, the kitchen table was laid with delicious food. Anette tried somewhat unsuccessfully to make the omelette she remembered from her childhood. She was agitated like never before.

While they were eating, Mikael said pensively, “This is just so nice and cozy, Anette. Why haven’t we thought of this sooner?”

She stiffened and became tense at once. “It’s not good for the master and the mistress to ... oh, sorry, yes, of course it is nice and cozy!”

“I’ve never felt that I’m part of a master and mistress.”

“Well, you are and you must never forget it!”

“Why not? Maybe this is the error of the matter?”

“What matter?”

“Oh, nothing. Can I have some more beer?”

She poured some beer. “What do you think the maids will say tomorrow when they see that we’ve messed the place up?”

“Surely we’ll clean the place up before we leave?”

“Clean? You must be mad. We can’t do that ...”

He put his hand over hers and squeezed it almost threateningly. “We’ll clean the place and then no more nonsense, understand?”

“Nonsense?” she whispered, but she had turned pale and stopped protesting. She cleared the table without a word and rinsed the things that they had used. But Mikael did most of the work. When they were nearly finished, Anette glanced at him and was shocked. He stood completely motionless, staring at the cleared table with a totally blank expression.

Mikael didn’t sense Anette’s presence. He was back in the vacuum with the moaning voices. Horror gripped him once more and he could do nothing. Since he had first glimpsed the unknown shadow, far in the Livonian mist, it had grown and grown. It was now consuming him.

“Mikael!” a frightened voice said near him. “Mikael! What’s wrong? Please answer me!”

He broke into a sweat. ‘I’m being swallowed,’ he thought. ‘Everything’s over. But is this something I fear or long for? Maybe both.’

“Mikael!”

He was so tired, so very tired ...

‘Yes, I long for it. I can’t take it anymore. I long for the big sleep.’

“Mikael! Please answer me! ”

He shut his eyes, took a deep breath and then fell helplessly to his knees and embraced Anette, who stood frozen to the spot.

“Help me, Anette. Oh, in the name of God, please help me!”

“Mikael, are you mad?”

“I can’t go on any more, Anette. I’m going under. This has been happening more and more ...”

“Does this happen often? Just like this?”

“Yes. Dominic knows about it. He knows how I feel.”

“But-” She was divided between the need to comfort him and her aversion. She put her hands awkwardly around his face. “Mikael... I’m just not strong enough. I can’t. I’m scared.” She was weeping. “I want so much to help you but I can’t, I don’t know how. It’s so... shocking.”

He understood. The mad, the mentally sick, were the pariahs of society. There was no room for them and, least of all, in the upper echelons of society.

He got up with a sigh. “Forgive me, my dear. It’s probably a good thing that I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

She stood there, watching him as he walked out of the kitchen, weighed down with sorrow and loneliness. Thoughts raced through her mind. ‘Mum, you always said men don’t have souls. Can this really be true?’ She was beginning to see cracks in her mother’s theories. Dominic would grow and become a man. Would he then lose his fine, little soul and become a beast?

When Mikael walked past her door a little later, he saw her praying earnestly in front of the Virgin Mary. He grimaced at the sight.

Anette was surprised that she felt sad about Mikael leaving. She tried to focus on his honourable career. To be allowed to fight for your country was really something – especially when your country was the attacker!

“It’s best this way, Anette,” said Mikael although it was mostly himself he was trying to convince. “We don’t live as husband and wife but as friends. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.

“Will you take care of Troll while I’m away?”

She nodded energetically.

“I already know that you’ll take good care of Dominic. I’ll miss him dreadfully. I’ll miss you all, in fact.”

“Write to us,” she exclaimed suddenly. “Please promise that you’ll write! I’ll respect your letters and you’ll never regret that you sent them to me. I’ll take care of them.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I suppose I can ...”

“Oh, thank you.”

“May I be open in them and write what’s on my mind?”

“Yes, please promise you will!”

Never before had Mikael seemed so appealing to Anette: The splendid uniform, the tall boots, the hat with the swaying feather and the cloak hanging loosely from his broad shoulders. Anette felt dizzy.

“You see, I need to tell you things,” he said quietly. “But it will require something of you.”

She straightened her back and looked at him solemnly. “I’ll be worthy of your confidence, Mikael. I promise.”

He nodded calmly. “Then you’ll write to me as soon as I tell you where we are?”

“Certainly. Would you also like me to be... open?”

Mikael took her hands in his. “I wish you would!”

“I will,” she said, so touched that the words were merely a whisper. “Goodbye, Mikael! And... come back to us!”

She remembered the terrible moment when she had wished him dead on the battlefield. It stood before her mind’s eye in all its horror and debasement. She didn’t want it any more. With all her heart, she wanted him to return safely.

He drew her to him and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He felt her flinch, and she smiled sadly. Then Mikael said an emotional goodbye to his son, who cried and cried. The dog, on the other hand, didn’t understand why it was given a hug.

Then Mikael left the house in which he had, more or less through his own fault, felt like a stranger.

Mikael’s first letter reached Anette in the late fall of 1657:

My dear wife,

As you will no doubt remember, I promised to be more sincere in my letters, so now you must take it as it comes. What’s more, I’ve noticed that it’s much easier for me to express myself in writing. When I stand face-to-face with someone, I can’t speak openly with them. I don’t know why.

We reached His Majesty’s army in Pomerania after we had ridden at a gallop all the way from Poland. It’s ruthless towards the horses. I detest treating animals like that.

Anette thought tenderly that this remark was typical of Mikael.

Since the Danes weren’t as well-trained for battle as our soldiers, it was no problem for our army to occupy Southern Jutland. Now we’re standing in Central Jutland and the King is considering how he can get to Zealand and conquer the capital.

The other day I heard that the Russians have occupied Ingria and Livonia. Oh dear. It makes me think of the little village on the plains of Livonia! I never told you of my frightful experiences there. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve told you very much, have I? I wonder what’s happened to Birgitte. She’s probably doing alright, she was good at knowing which way the wind was blowing. When I think of her now, all I feel is unease. I’m so relieved that we got little Troll away from there. He’s content with you now, and just thinking about it makes me so happy.

My strange mental state hasn’t changed. Finally, uncle Gabriel has come to realise that I’m not cut out for the military. I’m homesick, Anette. I want to be back in the house I’ve come to know and which I now dare to consider as my own. I long like mad for Dominic – how’s our delightful little boy doing? You can see that the very moment I’m away from home I become sentimental. I miss Troll by my side, and I miss you, Anette. Yes, believe it or not! Although we differ so much when it comes to certain matters, we have, somehow, also grown closer.

I now realise that it was wrong of me not to confide in you about my mental anguish. You might have been able to understand me or at least had the chance to try to. Only young Dominic understood how difficult it was from time to time. Our little boy is so full of compassion. I love him so very much.

Now I also have the courage to tell you that I often wanted to ask for permission to sleep with you. But I didn’t dare because you were so dismissive and afraid of getting close to me. It seemed that you viewed me as a big, clumsy, dirty and distasteful man, who was just imposing himself on you. Now I have the courage to admit that I dream of you in my solitude. Daydreams where I imagine what it is like to hold you in my arms. That first time many years ago doesn’t count. It’s as if we weren’t really present then, don’t you agree?

Forgive me for being so candid, but you asked me to be like that. Don’t be afraid – if I return home, I’ll be just as reserved as before. Maybe even more so, because I feel the darkness descending on my soul.

Please pray to the Virgin Mary that she’ll protect you all!

Your affectionate,

Mikael.

Anette’s hands shook as she folded the letter. “Oh, dear God,” she whispered. “Oh, heavenly, merciful Father. What am I to do? Shall I write to him?”

Yes, she would write a letter to him. She knew that an orderly would be leaving in just a few days. In a state of intense mental turmoil, she wrote.

My dear husband,

Thank you for your warm letter, which made me very happy. (Could you write like that? Didn’t it sound a bit too eager? No, she had to write it.)

We’re all well. Dominic often asks about you, and Troll obviously misses you. He searched all over the house for you when you left.

I’m also sad that you didn’t feel you could confide in me about your mental torment. I know that I’ve behaved clumsily, but you came back home so suddenly and I wasn’t prepared.

Don’t you think it would have been best for you to put your faith in God? To place everything in his hands? I know you aren’t particularly faithful, which bothers me. But I ask you to tell me everything that’s on your mind. Maybe that’s easier when we’re far apart.

The last bit of the letter was one long description of how things were going with the house and garden. She didn’t dare mention a single word of what Mikael had said about their relationship.

Mikael received the letter with mixed feelings. She had referred to his difficulties as “mental torment.” These were words that had a religious undertone, but he could not see anything religious in the horrific visions he had of the great vacuum. Or maybe it was the big sleep? He yearned more and more for an unending sleep that would put an end to his futile search and lead to a blessed state of calm.

Of course, the postal services were not the best and you had to send your letters when you heard that a messenger would be leaving. So the next letter Anette received was a long time in reaching her. She was surprised to discover that she had been waiting impatiently for it.

Dearest Anette,

Guess where I am now... I’m in Zealand! His Majesty has done what everybody thought would be impossible: On 20 January, he walked across the ice. First across The Little Belt to Funen and then across Langeland and on to Lolland and now, roughly two weeks later, we’re in Zealand with 6000 riders and 2500 infantry. The long procession across the ice was a fantastic sight, believe me. Uncle Gabriel helped to pull the King’s sleigh across the Belt. It was a stroke of luck that this year, 1658, was so cold because otherwise we wouldn’t be here now.

I’m extremely reluctant to be part of this campaign at all. I have relatives here in Denmark and young Tancred Paladin was most likely with the army that we defeated in Jutland. It gives me great pain to think about it, and if I could I’d journey to his home, Gabrielshus, immediately. That is really all I wish for as I sit here in this freezing house, writing to you. But it’s impossible to desert the army now. I’m not an ideal soldier, but I still possess a certain code of honour. Otherwise, I’d be just as reprehensible as certain a high-ranking Dane who stands close to our King. His name is Corfitz Ulfeldt, and he is, of course, of great value to King Carl Gustav because he knows everything about his old homeland. Imagine that he can betray Denmark like that. He seems to be full of hatred and vengeance towards the Danish King, just like his wife, Leonora Christina.

I’m in a somewhat different situation since I’m part Norwegian, part German and grew up in Sweden. However, I feel I can’t let Sweden down. It has done so much for me. I don’t tell others where my heart belongs.

I said I only had one wish, but it isn’t true. I long for you and my little family. I feel a great sense of responsibility for you. However, it’s wonderful to know that you’re in safety in Sweden. It was sweet of you to take part in my difficulties. The closer we are to one another, the more difficult it is for us to talk with one another. But right now, I have a feeling that you want to listen and understand. You’re closer to me than ever before.

Dear little wife, how am I to say this? Maybe I have the courage to do so because of the distance. No ties, no pressure on either of us. You see, the fact is that two weeks ago I happened to hear a man speak, a French mercenary, I suppose you’d call him. He had just the same accent as you, and a ripple went through me. I felt warm, wistful and wonderful. Yes, this is how it was, Anette. It’s okay with me if you forget my words, but I want to put them on paper.

Do you remember that I once told you that writing letters was risky? I may come to regret this letter, but please respect its content. No matter what you do with it: burn it, forget it or keep it!

What am I to tell you about my mental torment? I don’t even understand it myself. I’ve always been lonely and reserved and have always found it difficult to express myself to others.

You see, somehow I can never gain a footing in life. It’s as if the earth disappears from under me. I’ve got nothing to complain about in a material sense because ever since I was a child everybody has shown me the greatest possible kindness. However, to know I’ve missed my vocation in life has always troubled me. I’m not achieving anything and don’t give joy to anyone. I’ve lost my bearings. Anette, I’m so lost that it gives me constant pain. If only I could feel a bond and solidarity with others!

Anette moaned softly as she read these words. “Oh, Mikael,” she whispered.

I did feel it once, when I met my relative Tancred. Although we’re very different – he is bright and jolly, and I’m of a melancholy disposition – I could feel the bonds of kinship. Does that make sense to you?

It’s a rare feeling that I long for, but in recent years, I’m plagued more and more often by this darkness and anxiety. You saw it for yourself the last evening I was at home. It’s something that is about to swallow me, and it’s pulling me towards evil. I know you’re afraid that I’m mad. I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure.

Oh, how I long to meet somebody who will understand me and not be frightened of me! It will probably never happen. You speak about God. I’ve tried to pray for help but there must be a secret code you have to break in order to be in touch with God, and I don’t have that code. Maybe he listens to some and is indifferent to others. I’ve spoken to a man of the church about it, but all he said was that my faith wasn’t strong enough. That was a cynical response and I don’t think it’s true. I once saw a little old woman pray fervently for her loved ones while the war was raging. God must have have fallen asleep because all of her family were killed and the old woman was left all alone to grieve and try to understand what had happened.

Dearest Anette, if the Father Almighty can’t help, I ask myself how you’ll ever be able to understand what’s going on within me. Nevertheless, I put my trust in you. I regard you as my only friend, please know that.

I dream of feeling your presence and knowing that there’s somebody who’s fond of me. I’m a little ashamed of my thoughts, but I dream of making you mine. I’m no better a human being than that. Maybe monks can live in celibacy but I find it tough. I even doubt the monks, after all the stories about secret corridors between monasteries and convents and the corpses of babies that have been found there.

I dream of being allowed to embrace you tenderly and lovingly without you feeling that it’s something ugly. Because I must admit that your distance disturbs me. I’ve always been afraid of being unwanted, no doubt because I’ve never had a home of my own with a mother and father. The least sign from you that you weren’t interested kept me away, and God knows you gave me a lot of signs like that. Or was it merely fear that I would reject you? Perhaps we’re both worried that we’re not attractive to the other. Or is it your Virgin Mary who mustn’t see or hear anything that’s improper?

I hope you’ll respond to this letter. I want so much to learn more about you, because you’re the woman I’ve been married to for six years but who I’ve only touched one single time.

Be prepared for the fact that my time in the army has affected me deeply again. All that you and Dominic managed to build has shattered once more. I’m in a worse state now than last time I came home to you as a human wreck.

I can’t go on like this. What am I to do?

Your loyal

Mikael.

Anette became quite dizzy. “He demands too much of me,” she moaned. “What am I to answer to all of this?”

After fretting for three days and nights, she sat down to write a reply.

My dear husband,

Thank you for your letter, which we’d all been longing for. It’s good to know that you’re in good health.

A few words followed that, which she had crossed out. Mikael managed to decipher it as ‘in good spirits’ and his smile was bitter.

I’ve also heard of our King’s great feats and that he’s now negotiating a peace settlement at Copenhagen Castle. May things turn out well for him and Sweden!

You write so beautifully that I’m your only friend now. Thank you, my dear. I only hope I’ll prove to be worthy of your trust. I feel that you mock God when you say that He was sleeping. After all, the little old woman you mentioned was saved! She was the one who prayed, and she was saved! God has a plan for everything, do you understand? Maybe He was testing her loyalty by letting her family die?

As Mikael read these words, he felt a deep sense of despair. How was his wife ever to understand him? How was he to understand her?

If life is difficult, I wish with all my heart to stand by your side. I’m touched that you’ve confided in me about your mental torment. If I can be of any consolation, I’ll do so humbly and readily.

However, I must say that it’s extremely careless of you to write so openly about your wish to visit Danes and about this man Ulfeldt. A letter can fall into the wrong hands and lead to your downfall or disgrace. As for the second point in your letter that you asked about, I’m sure you understand that I can’t answer that in a letter. We must talk it over when you’re back home.

What I can tell you is that I don’t care for that woman you met in Livonia by the name of Birgitte. Please don’t mention her again.

Well, finally a bit of life in his tiny porcelain figure of a wife!

You ask me about complicated matters, Mikael. You write a lot about things I don’t like – the suspicion regarding the holy lives of monks and nuns, your dreams, your analysis of our emotions. That isn’t like you. You always behave as a gentleman should.

‘Maybe that is the crux of the matter,’ he thought.

Otherwise all is well here. Dominic is waiting every day for you to come back. He’s grown so big and helpful and he has a remarkable understanding of my moods. When I’m sad, he comforts me and if I’m worried, he always asks me why. He’s a sensitive little boy, always sweet and nice.

Henri has returned from France, which is very refreshing for me now that I’m on my own. He and I have so much to talk about.

I won’t write any more letters to you now because I’ve heard that you’ll soon be back. This is something we’re all looking forward to.

Your affectionate wife,

Anette

Mikael sighed. This woman was locked in conventions! But what about himself? He was hardly any better.

Mikael would have dearly loved to go to Gabrielshus, but since no peace had been established with Denmark so far, it would have been regarded as high treason. So, he resigned and waited while the two Kings negotiated, in a seemingly friendly atmosphere. By the time peace was declared in Roskilde in late 1658, Denmark had lost Scania, Halland and Blekinge forever. Norway lost Bohuslen to Sweden and was cut in two, as the Swedes also got Trondelag, Nordmöre and Romsdal. It was a bitter day for Denmark-Norway.

But Mikael was still not on his way home. He was sent to Bremen along with the major part of his division. He was in a deep depression, worn out by the atrocities he had witnessed and sick of being a soldier. He lived in a shadow world, where he hardly knew what he was saying or doing. He did what was expected of him and nothing else.

However, Carl Gustav X was not yet satisfied. In August of that same year, he attacked Denmark, and Mikael was drawn into this new war as his mental state got increasingly worse. His foster father tried to keep him nearby, but didn’t understand the reasons for Mikael’s mental illness.

Mikael found it difficult to follow how the war was swaying back and forth and who had won which battles. However, by February 1660, the war was over. After a short illness, Carl Gustav X died in Oxenstierna’s arms in Gothenburg, Sweden. The war had ended and new peace talks could begin.

Mikael was far into Sweden by that time. He sat on his horse, tired, despondent and ravaged, now constantly troubled by strange visions. Only the thought that he would soon be seeing his beloved Dominic kept him going. Dominic and little Troll and to a certain degree, Anette, although he was more filled with fear of a new defeat than of eager anticipation. Her latest letter had not been exactly encouraging.

Later on, they had not been able to write to one another. Denmark was so ravaged by the war, so battered by the plague and famine that the postal services had come to a complete standstill.

The men looked pensively at their quiet captain, as they rode through the forests in the freezing, pouring spring rain. At the end of each day’s fighting in Denmark, Captain Mikael Lind of the Ice People had vomited. He said it was an old trouble in the head.

The men believed that this was quite possibly true. However, each of them thought the same: Our captain’s not long for this world.