Chapter 6

Before long they were on their way. Just a few days before their departure, Charlotte Meiden ordered a rider to be sent ahead of them to ensure that everything was prepared and ready for their arrival. The houses at their destination had for the most part stood empty for many years, with only an elderly couple retained as caretakers. The land had always been worked, although not very efficiently, and had produced no more than a small income for the Meiden family.

All Charlotte’s great many personal possessions had been packed up and loaded aboard a ship now lying in the harbour. The ship would not sail for at least a couple of weeks however and Charlotte could not afford to wait that long. It was vital that she leave before her father returned from his travels because he would undoubtedly have put a stop to the whole enterprise at once.

One woman alone, she could hear him say, cannot manage a farm and an estate of that size – never! Furthermore, was she perhaps trying to usurp his paternal authority? Was he no longer allowed to decide what was best for the women in his family? And if he ever found out about Tengel of the Ice People, wouldn’t his retribution be merciless? No one belonging to such a godless family would be spared, not even Dag – and it would be better if he never heard a word about his existence either.

So they made urgent plans for their journey and after considerable discussion decided the road over the mountains would be the one to travel. Because carriageways were almost non-existent, they chose to take a small covered cart for the ladies to travel in. But no one was sure how far it would be able to go. Most probably they would all have to ride on horseback a lot of the way, because there were certain to be stretches of road that would be impassable. Among the worst of these was the valley known as Drivdalen and they agreed that the best that they could hope for was to keep the cart as long as possible.

Everyone was aware that this overland journey would be arduous and fraught with danger. As a passage by sea was not immediately available, there was no alternative but to attempt crossing the mountains of Dovre. They would, however, have a sizeable escort on this trip.

It fell to the Baroness to try to explain to her husband why their daughter had left home, taking with her various items of furniture, many horses and a not insignificant retinue of servants and maids. They were not concerned that he might follow them. The official trips throughout Trondelag forced upon him as part of his duties were torment to a man of his great bulk. A long journey south was the last thing he would want, and besides it wasn’t worth abandoning his home comforts or risking his own very important life for a mere daughter!

The journey through the lowland countryside towards Dovre was relatively uneventful. Silje and the children sat with Charlotte and her maid in the simple cart with its hooped-canvas roof Tengel rode alongside or ahead of them depending on the type of terrain they were travelling through. They had kept their baggage to a minimum and the great sea cargo was entirely made up of Charlotte’s dowry, something she would hardly have need of now.

From the outset the weather was beautiful and not one of them complained about the fact that the cart had no springs and the roads or tracks were so poor that after two days they had all been bumped and battered black and blue. It was all so exciting for everyone, except Silje, who while hiding her fears, tensed up each time the cart lurched, trying to protect the life growing inside her. Only Tengel noticed this but his face gave nothing away.

Three riders went ahead of the party and two men-at-arms brought up the rear. They had four extra horses with them, to be used when the cart could go no further, and it was not long before they were needed. They had reached the formidable and dangerous Varstigen section of the old Pilgrim’s Way leading into Drivdalen, when the driver of the cart made his apologies and told them he could go no further. Bidding them farewell, he turned his team around to make the tortuous journey back to Trondheim alone – fording deep rivers, negotiating marshes with barely enough hard surface for a single horseman and finding tracks through swamps and dark forests.

It took some time to load up the baggage and get the children and women onto horseback. Then began a nightmare journey along Varstigen’s narrow paths, at the edges of which were sheer precipices on one or sometimes both sides. There were times when the horses picked their way gingerly along between the rough rocky wall on one side of the path and a deep ravine on the other. From far below, the constant roar of the River Driva assaulted their ears and occasionally a horse and rider found themselves carefully balanced as they traversed a narrow ridge. Generally the women and children preferred to walk along the most daunting heights, leading the horses, because they had more confidence in their own legs.

The path finally began to widen, leading onto flatter ground. The air was thinner and colder now. They had met no other travellers and happily no wild animals either. As they caught their first glimpse of the snow-capped mountains in the misty distance, their only companions were a few birds of prey, circling and wheeling high above them.

Silje was unable to free herself from the anxiety that had mounted within her every second along Varstigen. She had been riding, holding Sol in front of her, yet at the same time she had been trying to keep a watchful eye on all three children. This had tired her out completely, but she felt unable to trust the others, even though she knew they were more capable of looking after the children than she was. After all, she told herself they were all big strong men. The beauty and majesty of the scenery that lay before them was simply lost on her. Everyone else was busy discussing the various features of the landscape, identifying the peaks by name: Snohetta, Rondane and many others. But the words simply whirled around her head and vanished. It was as though she was seeing the world through a veil. A long time afterwards, when someone asked her about the journey, she discovered that she remembered nothing at all about the ride across the mountains.

Yet, despite herself, she realised that a great many things must have taken place. She had a vague recollection of how they finally reached Dovre’s flatter, less foreboding foothills, when a halt was called and they all lay back on the grass to relax and settle their nerves. She had been so frightened of any harm coming to the children that her chin trembled and her teeth were chattering. Tengel was looking very pale, she noticed, as he sat with Liv in his arms resting his chin against her auburn hair. Tengel had always treated the children equally, but Silje knew that he loved Liv, his own daughter, beyond measure. He would never have shown this openly, but many was the time she had seen him bent over her bed as she slept, a look of wonder and disbelief on his face that he had fathered a child – and a such a beautiful child as well.

Charlotte sat with her arm around Dag, talking to him and trying to calm his fears. Silje stretched out a hand to Sol, who came and threw herself down on the grass beside her. She too was worn out by the frightful journey and could not even bring herself to speak – a rare occurrence at any time!

They were still sore from the aches and pains, bumps and bruises they had acquired from travelling in the cart previously. The colour had still not returned to Silje’s face, but she didn’t complain or show her discomfort. The servants, who sat together on the grass away from the group, were also greatly relieved that the worst part of the journey was over.

Clouds began to form above Dovre as they moved on again. Icy drizzle, whipped along by the wind, tore into their faces, making progress very unpleasant when they neared another high point of the track. The drizzle turned to slushy sleet as they approached a wayfarer’s cabin at Hjerkinn, a very simple log building, but a welcome refuge nonetheless. They took a well deserved break in the cabin to rest and eat. There the storm worsened and snow blew in through the gaps in the timbers, forming small drifts here and there on the beaten earth floor.

Despite the weather, they could not afford to stay there for too long. They needed to reach more appropriate lodgings to spend the night. As they left Hjerkinn the snow turned to rain once more, but they did not encounter any real problems until they reached the staging inn south of the Dovre Mountains.

Weary and exhausted after the day’s hard long trek, they were well received by the innkeeper and made themselves comfortable. Gratefully they accepted the best meals the house could provide. Tengel kept his hood up to hide his features as much as possible, but there was a distinct twinkle in his eye, indicating to Silje that, in spite of himself he was enjoying the benefits of travelling with the aristocracy!

It was while they were eating that the innkeeper came and alerted them to two strangers who were sitting together at one side in the dining-room. He told them he felt they had been observing Charlotte’s finery with greedy eyes for too long. ‘I can’t throw them out, you understand,’ he said, ‘as long as they cause no trouble. But they are no better than highwaymen, and that’s a fact. So if you’ll take my advice, you’ll place a guard on your belongings this night. Aye, and bar the doors of your rooms properly too!’

Charlotte was finding the mixture of odours in the room from humans and food alike too much for her, but she thanked the innkeeper politely and promised to do as he suggested. Tengel offered to sit in the corridor and guard her door, but she refused, saying that it was a duty suited to a couple of her servants. Sol watched everything and everyone wide-eyed and listened so closely you could almost see her ears flapping.

It was customary for travellers to be given a place to sleep in the large hall adjoining the dining-room, but there were a few small rooms on the floor above that were reserved for more distinguished guests. Silje found it quite comical that she and her family were now treated as such – although naturally she knew these privileges were the result of Charlotte’s influence.

The Baroness would never have dreamt of sending her daughter away with just a few servants and Tengel’s family. Consequently there was one man accompanying them who, with propriety and authority, supervised Charlotte’s affairs. Silje had no idea what his real title was – he was probably a bursar – but she believed he was returning to Trondheim as soon as they had arrived at their destination.

This young noblewoman had been accustomed to more refined society and would never have chosen to share a table with people from the same class as Tengel and Silje. Now, in an unfamiliar world of which she knew nothing surrounded by disreputable travellers, she sought their company. This also brought her closer to Dag and with every hour that passed she became more attached to him. In her heart she longed for the day when she could look after him properly and openly as his mother.

‘You say you think he is intelligent?’ she asked Silje at one point.

‘Very!’ replied Silje. ‘I noticed it from his very early days.’

‘It would be a pity for such an intellect to be wasted,’ mused Charlotte. ‘I’ve been thinking something. Could I tutor him do you think? Just a few hours each week?’

Tengel and Silje looked at each other with broad grins. They both held the view that learning was the way to get the most out of life. ‘Nothing could please us more,’ said Silje. ‘But would it not seem odd if … I mean …’

‘Oh, I understand.’ Charlotte interrupted. ‘Of course, I meant all the children. Well, the two oldest for the moment anyway.’

‘In which case, you do us a great service. Mistress Charlotte,’ declared Tengel warmly. ‘And we shall be sure to repay you by giving you our undying loyalty.’

‘Then we are agreed,’ she said, smiling. She was astonished over how pleasant it could be to talk to the lower classes. But these people were different from others in so many ways, she told herself. Poor, dear Charlotte! She had so little experience of the world.

They were sitting apart from other travellers in a corner of the dining-room that had been reserved for the use of more distinguished company. They could not avoid the smells and hubbub, however, or escape the eyes of the other guests. But Tengel kept his back to them. When an opportunity arose, they questioned the innkeeper very discreetly about the Ice People. Did he know anything about them? Had he ever heard tell of them? Ice People? No, the name was completely unknown to him; and he had met most sorts – folk from the district as well as wayfarers passing through.

This was a great relief to them all. The notoriety of the Ice People had not crossed the Dovre Mountains. Even Tengel gave a satisfied sigh and eventually, as the realisation sank in, he felt himself relaxing from the pressures of the past weeks. He attracted people’s attention, that was true, and the innkeeper had been wary of him at first. Now he sat in the shadows disturbing nobody. Other guests had not spotted him and he intended to be seen by as few people as possible.

Tired by the trip, it was not late when they went up to their beds. They called to Sol and Liv who were skipping and jumping around the dining-room, chatting with the guests as they went. Both girls were scolded for their behaviour but, while Liv took it hard and began to cry. Sol was unconcerned and merely looked at them with glittering mysterious eyes. No one could ever know what that girl was thinking – those shimmering eyes concealed so much.

In the middle of the night Charlotte was awoken by a dull heavy noise. She tried to wake her chambermaid but found she was sound asleep. There was someone in the room – she knew it by instinct! But the door had been bolted and barred. The window! The man – or were there two? They must have crept along the roof and prised open the shutter. Had they used a ladder, perhaps?

Charlotte opened her mouth to scream, but before she could let out even a squeak, a rough hand was pressed over her mouth and the blade of a knife gleamed threateningly in the half-light. While one man held her down, the other rifled through her belongings. The maid stayed sleeping – she must have been exhausted.

Despite the danger, Charlotte was in a rage. She knew that her servants were asleep on the other side of the door while Tengel’s family was asleep at the other end of the corridor. And she was lying here, helpless. They probably intended to stick a knife into her …

But they didn’t. The chambermaid stirred and, after a whispered conversation, the men tied the two women up securely. Then they continued searching, swearing softly, until they discovered Charlotte’s most valuable casket. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the half-light and she could see them quite well. As she watched, one of them wiped the sweat from his brow.

‘What shall we do with these old women?’ whispered his companion. ‘They might have seen us – best if we – er …?’

‘Yes, you go. l must rest a little. Then I’ll take care of them. We’ll meet up at the usual place. Wait for me there. At the moment I’m not feeling too good.’

The first man climbed out through the window, carrying the casket with him. They had found nothing else – she had brought so few pieces of any value with her on this journey. The second man sat down heavily on the chambermaid’s bed. He wiped his hands across his face and then grabbed at his stomach, groaning heavily. A moment later he got to his feet, trying to find his balance, and Charlotte watched helplessly as he lurched towards her bed, still brandishing the knife. She lay there paralysed with fear, the gag muffling her attempts to scream and the ropes biting into her skin. The pitiful sounds that she managed to utter were too weak to be heard through the door.

The man stood motionless over her in the middle of the room looking down into her face. Then he swayed unexpectedly, fell forwards onto the floor with a crash and lay still with one arm resting on her bed. Charlotte pushed his arm off the bed with her knee and it hit the floor with another loud thud – and that was how they remained until daybreak, both women dreading that the man would wake up and kill them. But he never woke again!

Charlotte had barred the door from the inside. This meant that the innkeeper, Tengel, the bursar and a host of other people were now desperately trying to enter her room through the window! Of them all, the only one to succeed in climbing the ladder they had discovered standing mysteriously beneath the window, was the ‘man of authority’. He then opened the door for the others, who had returned to the corridor, still upset and worried.

‘This man is dead,’ announced the innkeeper. ‘You were lucky there, Gracious Mistress! But where is his friend? They are not from these parts, you see. They only show themselves here now and then.’

‘He is not far away.’ said Sol calmly. She stood, wearing only her chemise, looking inquisitively at the dead man.

Tengel shot a worried glance in her direction. He ushered all the visitors, except Silje. from the room and he sat down on the chambermaid’s bed, holding Sol by the shoulders. Charlotte and the maid sat on the other bed rubbing life back into their wrists.

‘Sol,’ asked Tengel, his voice menacingly soft, ‘what is it you’ve done?’

She gazed at him innocently, ‘I didn’t want – they were going to be horrid to nice Mistress Charlotte. I heard what they said about her, down where they were eating.’ The room was silent as they listened to her, their fears growing. ‘So I put some stuff in their jug of ale – just a bit – when I was running around and talking to them. But I only took a little bit! From that tiny, tiny leather pouch Hanna gave me – you know! The black one.’

‘Oh, dear God,’ muttered Tengel.

At that moment the innkeeper put his head round the door. ‘They’ve found the other one,’ he told them. ‘Lying dead on the ground not far from here. We have all your valuables, Gracious Mistress. They were strewn all around him. Two dead ’uns! Who’d have thought? What an uncanny thing, eh!’

‘Thank you,’ Charlotte muttered, her lips barely moving. ‘Be sure to tell those worthy folk who found them of my gratitude.’

Tengel’s face had taken on a grey pallor. ‘Sol,’ he said, through clenched teeth, ‘you will give me Hanna’s bundle now – all of it – at once!’

‘But it’s mine!’ she yelled.

‘Yes, that it is. But until you are grown up enough to master the healing arts, you shall not have it. Do you understand?’ Although he had said ‘healing arts’, everyone in the room knew that he meant something entirely different.

For a brief moment Charlotte shivered violently. Nothing like this had ever happened in her life, which had been largely lacking in love and full of indifference. She could not deny the thrill she felt at being in the presence of two such extraordinarily forceful individuals as Tengel and Sol. Tengel was a good person through and through – but she was not so sure about Sol.

Charlotte did the only thing she could under the circumstances. She stretched out a hand to the girl whose eyes were brimming with tears of defiance and disappointment – but not of regret! ‘I am so grateful to you, Sol my dear,’ she said sincerely. ‘You saved my life and that of my maid. You did what you did with good intent, but your father is right – you weren’t able to measure the dose properly I am certain he will return all your things when you are older.’

‘Yes, I shall,’ affirmed Tengel. ‘Now we must leave these young ladies alone. Pardon the intrusion, Mistress Charlotte.’

‘Entirely forgivable,’ she replied with a condescending nod of the head. ‘Please inform everyone that we will be leaving directly we have eaten.’

‘Of course,’ said Tengel. He was still shaken by what had occurred, because he knew that Sol was perfectly capable of judging the correct doses of Hanna’s concoctions. ‘It would be wise for us to leave here before the bailiff arrives to investigate the deaths. And, Mistress Charlotte, perhaps you should try to dress more simply? We do not want to attract any more of their sort.’

Charlotte nodded, indicating that she understood completely.

****

Tengel and Silje stood in awe at the approach to their new home. To their right, about seven furlongs away, they could see Charlotte Meiden’s dowry, Grastensholm. It was a large imposing granite building, complete with clock tower and flags waving in the breeze. Charlotte had left them and was now making her way there. But their house...!

‘Tengel,’ said Silje, lost in amazement, ‘I thought her house would be a mansion and ours just a small cottage on the estate. But the Meiden house is a palace! This place of ours is itself a mansion! Are we truly going to live here?’

‘So it seems,’ he answered, his voice sounding tired.

In fact the house was not as extravagant as Silje, with her unpretentious view of life, had imagined. Grastensholm was a fortified mansion – a tall, square, compact building but not very attractive to look at. What Silje had called ‘a mansion’ was a much smaller, long narrow house with outbuildings at both ends. They formed three sides of a pretty, grass-covered yard and, judging from the height of the gables, there seemed to be rooms upstairs as well. So this was to be a new, exciting enterprise for them both.

‘Tengel!’ said Silje full of emotion and gripping his hand. ‘Oh, Tengel!’

‘We shall do everything we can to look after this house properly for her,’ he said solemnly.

The children stared at the house. ‘Shall we live in that house?’ asked Sol.

‘Yes, and if we carry out our duties well it could be our home for many years, perhaps.’

‘Then that’s what we’ll do, won’t we Dag and Liv?’ said Sol turning to the two little ones. A simple ‘yes’ was all they could say.

As soon as they reached the house, Silje wandered inquisitively from room to room. She was pleased to see some items of furniture were still there: beds, cupboards and one or two tables that were fixed against the walls.

‘I am a good carpenter,’ called Tengel, full of excitement. ‘Silje! That wall – can you see? It only has a wooden shutter, but isn’t it just big enough …?’

‘For Benedikt’s glass mosaic!’ squealed Silje. ‘Yes, Tengel, it’s perfect! How the colours in the mosaic will sparkle with the sun shining through it. We must ask if we may put it there! Pinch my arm, Tengel, in case this is all a dream!’

They had arrived during the middle of the day and all that afternoon was spent planning, admiring and investigating every nook and cranny as well as unpacking the few things they had brought with them. It would be some time before their other belongings arrived on the ship. Later, while Silje was preparing the first evening meal in their new home, Tengel went into their bedroom alone. He stood very still, deep in thought, listening to the children rushing happily about the house. It was far bigger than anything they had ever known before, so their voices echoed from the half-empty rooms and their footsteps clattered constantly across the wooden floors.

He opened his bag of ‘things’, as Silje preferred to call them. Searching amongst the small jars and leather pouches, he finally found a small box and for a long time let it weigh in his hand. Now, he told himself at the end of their journey, this would be the right time. He would just put the powder into her bowl. She would never suspect it was anything other than fatigue and the hardships of the trip that had cost the unborn child its life.

The very thought of what he was proposing made Ten gel feel as though cold steel had pierced his heart. He dearly wanted another child, but did not dare let it happen. The risk was too great. If he failed to do something now, then the most likely outcome would be that Silje would die and he would be left to raise a monster – one that would grow to be as wretched as he had been during all the years he had lived alone, or maybe even worse. He, Tengel, had at least been spared the most sinister traits of his evil inheritance.

Silje would never understand why he needed to do this; he knew that. She would mourn the loss of the child and, even if she never discovered that he was responsible for ... In mid-thought he paused and frowned. Without turning he sensed he was not alone in the room; somebody was watching him. And he was not overly surprised, when he swung round, to find Sol leaning against the door-frame watching him intently. There was a curious bond, a synergy, between him and his young niece, and he had never doubted that her powers were far greater than his own had ever been. Sol sensed so many things. All the secrets of the world lay hidden behind her eyes.

Without saying a word, she walked across and took the box from his hand. Just as calmly, she put it in her pocket. Tengel was left speechless. He had been caught red-handed!

The look in Sol’s eyes was impossible to endure. Her intense gaze bore into his very being and he sensed her words rather than heard them. ‘Like unto like. A life for a life. Would you really wish such suffering upon Silje?’

He let out a long, deep, quiet sigh and lay his hand on her head. He was tired, downcast and sorrowful. Nothing was said, but he walked across to his bed and, from the shelf above it, took down Sol’s bundle and held it out to her. Her gaze did not falter as she took hold of it and offered him the box in her other hand.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Keep it until the baby is born!’

She simply nodded, turned and left the room. Wearily, Tengel stood and watched her go. Now there could be no going back.

****

They had just finished their evening meal when a message arrived from the Lady of the Manor that she wished to speak with Tengel. He set off straight away, walking along a small path across the fields, and his spirits were lifted by the beautiful scenery all around him. Behind the house was woodland and forest while from the front one looked down on open countryside and the church. Far off in the distance he could see an expanse of water but whether it was a lake or the inlet of a fjord was impossible to tell. It was something to be explored in due course. An exciting life lay ahead of them, of that he was sure.

Charlotte Meiden and Tengel met in one of the smaller drawing-rooms and spent a long time talking about the running of the farms and estates. To him the room seemed vast. All the proportions and dimensions of this castle, which was how he thought of it, were so huge. This house was not completely furnished either, and was barely ready to live in. Charlotte’s household goods and furniture were needed and would be well suited here.

‘And finally, Master Tengel,’ she said formally, ‘we must make sure all the papers are signed and sealed.’

He froze. Wasn’t this just what he had suspected all along – it was all too good to be true! Now came the rub – but what form would it take?

He frowned slightly. ‘Which papers?’

‘Why, the deeds to the house of course. They will show that you have purchased the house for a certain sum, but that is a mere matter of form. Naturally you will not be expected to pay anything at all.’

Tengel had stopped breathing. He had remained standing respectfully during their discussions, despite being offered a chair, but now he slumped gratefully into it.

‘You mean that the little home farm will be ours? Properly?’

‘Indeed I do. I thought that was understood.’

He went quiet again. Charlotte waited, yet despite her businesslike expression there was a tiny hint that she had discovered the joy of giving and the thrill of expectation.

‘Mistress Charlotte, we simply cannot accept! You have already done so much for us.’

When she spoke her words were full of passion. ‘Do you know, Master Tengel, how it feels, having taken the life of a child and bitterly regretted the deed for so long. Then to have the child restored to you in good health and happy. Do you know how that feels, Master Tengel?’

‘I do.’ he said softly. ‘I know well. For SiIje’s own sake I tried both times to take the life within her. First it was Liv – and now I love that girl more than myself. Then …’

‘The new baby?’

‘Yes, but Sol stayed my hand. I understand very well what you did those five years past.’

Charlotte considered this curious man with so many facets to his character. ‘You have also treated me with exquisite courtesy, by not informing the authorities that I had abandoned a living child.’

‘That never came into our thoughts. To that I can swear!’

‘Thank you! Thank you so much.’ Charlotte paused for a moment then continued. ‘Sol – is a remarkable child, but I must tell you that I am a little afraid of her.’

‘You need not be Mistress Charlotte. She would go to the grave for those who are dear to her.’

‘Yes, I had already realised that.’

She began arranging the flowers in a vase that had been placed on the table a little while earlier. Tengel watched the young noblewoman from the corner of his eye and realised that he had a lot of sympathy for her. She was by no means a pretty woman and to have been so mistreated and become so embittered in her young years must have hurt her so much. Yet she remained so warm-hearted. He decided there and then that he would be a true friend to her as long as she needed him.

‘But our discussion has strayed,’ he said swiftly. ‘I – I cannot accept such a great gift.’

‘Try to see it as I do. My life has been a wasteland of nothing but anguish for these last five years. Nor is my gift entirely unselfish – I will be close to my son, and when the time comes he shall inherit Grastensholm.’

Had Tengel not already been sitting down, he would have done so now. ‘This great estate? All of it? Castle, farms, pasture and woodland too?’

‘Master Tengel, let us look things in the eye. I shall never be wed, but this boy has brought meaning to my life. If God permits, then one day he will come to stay here with me. But mark well, this shall be a gift, it is not offered as barter. He will come only if he wishes it for himself.’

It took a little time before Tengel could find the words to say what he had been thinking. ‘You are an uncommonly fine person, Mistress Charlotte,’ he told her, quietly and deliberately.

‘Am I?’ She sounded bitter. ‘If that is so, then it is because you and Silje, and your little family, have shown me how.’

When all the papers had been signed, Tengel rose to his feet and made to leave. He bowed his head formally towards the noble woman in a final gesture of gratitude that still betrayed his sense of disbelief at his good fortune.

‘Is there anything else I can do?’ asked Charlotte very quietly.

Tengel stopped as he was walking towards the door, turned to her and smiled. ‘As if all this were not enough!’

Then suddenly a thought came to him, and he said earnestly. ‘There is perhaps just one thing.’

‘Pray tell.’

‘l could probably manage it all myself, but l need your advice and your help to ... Well, let me explain. Silje once had a dream that she would live in a house with an avenue, an allée, of linden trees leading to it. It was but a dream of course, and could never be real while we lived such a meagre life in the Valley of the Ice People. But now? Could you help me to give her this happiness? To find some small linden saplings for us?’

‘With pleasure! I shall make enquiries. It ought to be easy to arrange.’

So, a fortnight later, Tengel was to be found digging deep holes on both sides of the track leading to their house. He dug only six, because they had been given that number of saplings. But he fully intended that they would get more later. As he completed his digging, Silje and the children were all gathered round watching.

‘This one is for me as father of the house,’ he announced with a big smile as he placed the first young tree in its hole. The children pushed the earth back round its trunk and merrily tramped it down. ‘And this one is for Silje,’ he said crossing over to the other side of the drive. ‘Then Sol gets her tree – then Dag – then Liv. And what about the last one?’ He gave Silje an enquiring stare.

‘The last one is for Mistress Charlotte,’ she said instantly.

Tengel chuckled. ‘You’re not taking anything for granted. I see.’

‘No,’ she smiled back at him, shivering slightly.

‘For Mistress Charlotte!’ he said with great ceremony.

‘Because she is kind,’ added Sol.

Afterwards, however, Silje became slightly concerned by Tengel’s behaviour. While she and the children walked back up to the house, he stayed behind with his few small trees. He moved to each one in turn as she watched – and Silje became certain in that moment that he was reading incantations over all the saplings.