one should stick to the topic! He was not the least bit interested in that sort of frivolous behaviour.
But goodness, had he really become so boring? No, it was just that he did not wish to become too familiar with Ingrid. Not her! A slight sense of guilt at the thought of his future wife back home in Sweden made him view Ingrid’s coquettishness with disapproving virtuousness.
The scar, yes ... he was a bit embarrassed at the way he had acquired it; it was, in fact, all Villemo’s fault. She had been boasting of all her achievements as one of the chosen among the Ice People. On that occasion she had claimed that all the members of the family possessed some sort of supernatural talent.
Did Dan also possess a supernatural talent?
Of course he did! It was just a matter of figuring out what it was. And so he had been taken in. Much later his grandfather Dominic told him that was not true at all, and it was obvious to Dan when he considered his own father, Tengel. For there was no one as down-to-earth and ordinary as Tengel.
But by then it had been too late. By then Dan had already managed to convince himself that he could make himself invisible, so he had stood waving his arms in front of one of the servant girls who had kindly asked the young master not to stand in her way like that. The disappointment had led him to make the claim that he could walk through closed doors. But he could not walk through closed doors, and the iron doorknob had ripped the corner of the little lad’s mouth, leaving a scar there for the rest of his days.
No, his father, Tengel, had no talents of that kind and neither did Dan – that was clear enough. But at least Dan was exceptionally smart. In fact, he was almost a genius. Tengel was a good family man and a competent landowner, but in the saga of the Ice People he would merely be an intermediate link between his parents and the next generation. This was strange, considering that both his parents, Villemo and Dominic, were so distinctive. But perhaps he had been a kind of counterbalance to them? Villemo and Dominic had been gifted in so many ways, perhaps the family had simply needed a small breathing space.
So the question now was whether Dan would be able to accomplish anything great. He had been born with good brains. So he would have to be sure to put them to good use. To be the pride and joy of his parents and grandparents.
Somewhere in the house a door creaked.
Dan looked out of the window but the only thing he saw was the quiet town with Graastensholm church tower rising through the light mist of the summer night.
He did not look in the direction of the forest.
He did not see who was prowling in the silence of the night.
The next morning, after Dan had left, Alv was paid a visit by Ulvhedin. The giant with the dramatic features looked strangely furtive. His eyes had a secretive glow, which made Alv feel slightly ill at ease.
“I don’t like the idea of the boy riding on his own,” Ulvhedin said and came straight to the heart of the matter. “I intend to catch up with him. To accompany him.”
“I see,” Alv smiled hesitantly. “And is Elisa willing to let you go?”
“She has granted me permission. But ...”
Alv waited. They were standing in the courtyard. The farmhands were busy at work around them, and newly washed clothes were fluttering in the wind.
As though he were attempting to postpone his departure, Ulvhedin asked, “What does your daughter think of Dan leaving?”
“Ingrid? I have not seen her today at all. It’s hard on her, of course. Yes, it is a shame that she won’t have more opportunities to use that mind of hers.”
“Yes, it truly is. Listening to the conversations she and Dan had made one feel so simple-minded.”
“No doubt about that.”
Finally Ulvhedin got to the point. “Alv, I wanted to ask you ... you know that I have never laid any claim to the magic potions, although they rightly belong to me. But now I am wondering whether you ...”
“You would like to take them with you when you follow Dan northwards? Wouldn’t that be a little hazardous?”
Ulvhedin’s glance grew sharp. “You forget that in my youth I was once on my way to the Valley of the Ice People. With the potions. Already back then I had enough strength to turn back. I have also managed to abstain from using them for many years. Don’t you think that I would ...?”
“Of course,” Alv broke in, because he didn’t care for the sparkle in Ulvhedin’s eyes. “The treasure is yours, as you say yourself, and I have no right to prohibit you from taking it. Please come to Linden Avenue ...”
“So, that’s where it is,” Ulvhedin smiled conspiratorially.
“That is where it belongs. In the house of Tengel the Good, protected by his spirit. But if you will forgive me, I would like to fetch it alone. It would be nice to be able to use the same spot as a hiding place should I be in need of one in the future.”
“Of course.”
They exchanged few words with one another on their way to Linden Avenue. Ulvhedin was strangely tense, as though there was an aura of energy surrounding him.
This will not end well, Alv thought. It’s probably a mistake to give him the treasure. But what can I do? It is his and when he’s in this kind of mood it’s practically impossible to deal with him. The only person who can handle him when he’s like this is Elisa and she’s not here right now.
Although Ulvhedin was only three years older than Alv, mentally they were light years apart. Ulvhedin was driven by forces the magnitude of which no one was really certain. He had lived a dignified life for many years, thanks in part to Elisa and Villemo, but primarily by virtue of his own willpower. He strove to be the new Tengel the Good, and that was what he had become. But now, at this very moment, Alv recalled Ulvhedin’s youth. How he had killed and killed, blind to all the grief and sorrow he was causing around him. Not for his life did Alv dare to make any objections when Ulvhedin looked the way he did today, with a scheming determination in his yellow eyes.
“I am going inside,” Alv murmured.
Ulvhedin nodded.
The big man looked around the courtyard as he waited. Everything was well kept; soon an overseer would be moving in. The linden trees in the valley had grown tall. Many of them had probably succumbed to time and age and had been replaced by new ones, while the old trees had coarse bark like elephant skin, with scattered branches and few leaves. But the avenue was still impressive after 150 years.
Ulvhedin’s gaze grew distant. He touched the timbers of the house’s façade with his hand and it was as though Tengel the Good was present, he who had walked about the farm the first night at Linden Avenue, touching his new property and feeling that it was his.
Ulvhedin saw figures from the distant past. Silje who happily and joyfully came walking between the houses. Sol, who stole out into the woods with her magic potions. Klaus, the farmhand, who chased Meta into the hayloft; she fled and Are rode after her, and when he returned later with Meta she had become his bride.
He saw all the life and activity of Linden Avenue, while above the rooftops a delicate melancholy sound could be heard.
The three small boys, Tarjei, Trond and Brand, who played by the great rock. Messages of joy, messages of sorrow, anxious messengers on horseback entering the courtyard, the linden trees drooping in the avenue. New wives were brought home, coffins carried out. Times of affluence mingled with dramatic episodes.
The barn where Villemo had craved the attention of Eldar Blackforest.
And now ... only silence.
What a shame, Ulvhedin thought. There should be more children born into the family of the Ice People so that there will be someone who can take it over.
But that was not going to happen.
His own son, Jon, would marry Bronja, there was