Margit Sandemo

The Ice People 42 - The Calm Before the Storm


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      The Calm Before the Storm

      The Legend of the Ice People 42 - The Calm Before the Storm

      © Margit Sandemo 1988

      © eBook in English: Jentas A/S, 2020

      Series: The Legend of The Ice People

      Title: The Calm Before the Storm

      Title number: 42

      Original title: Lugnet före stormen

      Translator: Anna Halager

      © Translation: Jentas A/S

      ISBN: 978-87-7107-714-8

      This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchase.

      All contracts and agreements regarding the work, translation, editing, and layout are owned by Jentas A/S.

      Acknowledgement

      The legend of the Ice People is dedicated with love and gratitude to the memory of my dear late husband Asbjorn Sandemo, who made my life a fairy tale.

      Margit Sandemo

      The Ice People - Reviews

      ‘Margit Sandemo is, simply, quite wonderful.’

      - The Guardian

      ‘Full of convincing characters, well established in time and place, and enlightening ... will get your eyes popping, and quite possibly groins twitching ... these are graphic novels without pictures ... I want to know what happens next.’

      - The Times

      ‘A mixure of myth and legend interwoven with historical events, this is imaginative creation that involves the reader from the first page to the last.’

      - Historical Novels Review

      ‘Loved by the masses, the prolific Margit Sandemo has written over 172 novels to date and is Scandinavia's most widely read author...’

      - Scanorama magazine

      The Legend of the Ice People

      The legend of the Ice People begins many centuries ago with Tengel the Evil. He was ruthless and greedy, and there was only one way to get everything that he wanted: he had to make a pact with the devil. He travelled far into the wilderness and summoned the devil with a magic potion that he had brewed in a pot. Tengel the Evil gained unlimited wealth and power but in exchange, he cursed his own family. One of his descendants in every generation would serve the Devil with evil deeds. When it was done, Tengel buried the pot. If anyone found it, the curse would be broken.

      So the curse was passed down through Tengel’s descendants, the Ice People. One person in every generation was born with yellow cat’s eyes, a sign of the curse, and magical powers which they used to serve the Devil. One day the most powerful of all the cursed Ice People would be born.

      This is what the legend says. Nobody knows whether it is true, but in the 16th century, a cursed child of the Ice People was born. He tried to turn evil into good, which is why they called him Tengel the Good. This legend is about his family. Actually, it is mostly about the women in his family – the women who held the fate of the Ice People in their hands.

      Chapter 1

      His name was Morahan. He was Irish but lived in Liverpool. Now he was in the doctor’s surgery, trying to take in what was being said.

      “How long have you been working with asbestos, Mr Morahan?”

      “Since I was fourteen.”

      “And now you’re thirty. That’s sixteen years.”

      Silence fell in the surgery.

      What a shame, the doctor thought as he examined Morahan. He was a fascinating man. Not particularly tall, but solid and well built. His eyes shone almost black in his dark face, and his frizzy hair was just as black. His features were sharp and his expression slightly grim. He was the epitome of withheld strength. The symptoms had become evident. The cough. The deep furrows in his cheeks. The glow in his eyes, the yellow pallor of his complexion ...

      The doctor said half-heartedly: “Of course, we could try radiotherapy.”

      “And go through even more pain? Lose my hair and feel even worse? Don’t you think it’s a bit late in the day for that?”

      The doctor didn’t answer him directly. “We’ve had a lot of cases like yours in recent years. Doctors like me have raised the alarm, but the business world won’t listen. It’s all about making money, so what does it matter when an employee has to stop work after a long and disregarded service? Could asbestos really be a hazard to health? Nonsense, it’s been used for many, many years. So why are cancer cases popping up all of a sudden?”

      Yes, that’s the crux of the matter, the doctor thought to himself. It was the long-term destruction of the human body: couldn’t they get that into their heads? It was only now that the adverse effects had begun to appear.

      The doctor read the expression in Morahan’s eyes and he recognized it. He knew what kind of thoughts were entering his patient’s mind right now: It was the first stage in the long process towards the end.

      This doesn’t mean anything. I’m certainly not about to die! It’s just a lot of nonsense this doctor is telling me. Nothing can break me. I may have a slight, temporary defect in my body, but I’m invincible. I can fight this ...

      “An operation?”

      The doctor shook his head. “It’s too advanced. It’s spread all over your body.”

      Morahan’s heavy breathing was the only sound. It was this strained and yet shallow breathing that had made him consult the doctor. He had ignored the pain so far, but now he realized that he had waited too long. But he certainly had no plans to die!

      Nevertheless, before he had time to think better of it, he blurted out: “How long?”

      The doctor sighed. “I can’t say. It’s a difficult question.”

      “Are we talking about years?”

      “No, months. But speaking in terms of weeks would be too short.”

      “I see. Have I got time to travel? What I mean is, have I enough strength for that?”

      “It depends on how long and how far you plan to travel.”

      Back home to Ireland? To the poor working-class district in Dublin? Nothing tied him to those places anymore. He had left home when he was still a boy to make a living in England, and had landed in precisely the same circumstances there. His parents had died and his siblings were gone.

      Without exactly wanting to, he said: “I’d like to visit my mother’s native country – Norway. She always spoke so wistfully of how incredibly beautiful it was. I think she would have been happy to know that I was on my way to Norway. Do I have time to make it?”

      “I really think you should go ahead with your plan. Of course, you’ll know when you become weaker, and then you can just come back and I’ll have you admitted. To a hospital or nursing home.”

      I recognize this calm as well, the doctor thought. He hasn’t accepted it: the death sentence has nothing to do with him yet.

      Oh, well. He has to make his way through all the stages! What a shame for such a special person. There are so many nondescript people. Morahan is different. Nice to rest one’s eyes on. Strong. Indomitable ...

      Morahan walked to the door. “See you!”

      There was that slightly triumphant look: “See you. And you’ll be surprised, doctor. Because by then, I’ll no longer be sick!”