C1 Chapter 1

Anyone who listens to the wind can hear many things in its sighs and whispers. But never had the wind seemed to moan so bitterly as it did when sorrow and grief came to Graastensholm.

At Linden Avenue, the son of Silje and Tengel, known as Are of the Ice People, listened to its monotonous whine as it swept through the tops of the linden trees. He was restless because of the turn of events concerning Kolgrim Meiden, the first-born son of Are’s nephew, Tarald. Kolgrim had arrived in the world in 1621 under dreadful circumstances, when his mother Sunniva, Tarald’s first wife, died giving birth to him. From the outset the rest of the family had been afraid that Kolgrim might be carrying the feared curse of the Ice People, which had been handed down by their ancestor, Tengel the Evil One. But as he grew up, Kolgrim’s personality seemed to change for the better and these fears had generally softened.

However, one rash remark from Tarald was all it had taken to trigger the full rage of Kolgrim’s inherently evil powers.

It had been Kolgrim’s secret intention not to take advantage of the open and innocent kindheartedness that everyone at Graastensholm showed him until he was older. All the members of his immediate and extended family had been very careful to show him only love and attention while he was growing up. They hoped that they could prevent any possible evil power from taking hold. This meant that his needs were mostly taken care of and he’d therefore been content with waiting. But then, all of a sudden, a torrent of emotion – pent up deep inside him for so long – had been released.

In 1633 he had turned twelve and he was a handsome boy in his own special way, but his amber-tinted eyes, which met any person’s gaze with childlike innocence, would change as soon as their back was turned. His look would become cold and scornful and with calculating sidelong glances, he’d watch and measure every move.

“You miserable little souls,” they seemed to say. “I’m strong, much stronger than any one of you – stronger than all of you. I’m nice only as long as it serves my purpose. But when I’m old enough to look after myself, then you should all be on your guard, each and every one of you!”

Kolgrim, like all the accursed children of the Ice People, was a very lonely character, but he never regarded loneliness as something negative. In fact, quite the opposite. He gladly sought solitude because he believed that it would increase his powers.

At that time, much had been happening beyond the peaceful borders of Norway. Although Sweden’s King Gustavus II Adolphus had led his army to a brilliant victory over Tilly at Breitenfeld in 1631, The Thirty Years’ War still dragged on. King Gustavus was killed the following year at Lützen where his amassed armies succeeded in crushing the might of the combined forces of Generals Wallenstein and Pappenheim. Tilly was fatally wounded at the Battle of Lech, in 1632, and a couple of years later Wallenstein was murdered by his own troops. Yet the war went on and on, now with other Swedish generals on the side of the Protestants. Lennart Torstensson, Johann Banér and Hans Christoff von Königsmarck would go down in history for their exploits in this long-drawn-out war.

Christian IV had finally gotten rid of Kirsten Munk after it came to light that her latest child, Dorothea, might not have be fathered by the king. Kirsten Munk had also tried to mix some medicine into the king’s food and had cartoons made of him as a cuckold. Christian could take no more. He told her that he hoped she would suffer at the hands of a thousand devils and had banned her from seeing any of their children. But this didn’t seem to worry Kirsten Munk unduly.

Nobody knows what her mother, Ellen Marsvin, had to say to her daughter once their lucrative association with the king was over. Regardless, she continued to put on a brave face in adversity.

Insult was added to injury for both women when Christian IV took a new lover – their very own lady-in-waiting, Vibeke Kruse, who was the epitome of vulgarity and simple-mindedness. However, she bore him a remarkable son, Ulrik Christian Gyldenloeve, who grew up to be a far better warrior than his father ever was. When Leonora Christina was nine years’ old, King Christian IV had arranged for her to become engaged to Corfitz Ulfeldt, an ambitious young nobleman. There was one unintended benefit from this – the tyrannical royal housekeeper, who had ruled the domestic scene at Court with an iron fist, was removed. She had continued her ill treatment of the children unopposed and on one occasion she’d beaten Leonora Christina so severely that the girl was unable to sit down for several weeks. In fact, the injuries were so bad that she continued to suffer from them for the rest of her life. Inevitably, Leonora had told Corfitz what had happened and at long last the housekeeper’s brutal rule over the children was brought to an end, once and for all. On the king’s orders, she was dismissed and never served at Court again.

Anna Christiane, the king’s eldest daughter by Kirsten Munk, didn’t enjoy a long or happy life. Her fiancée, Frans Rantzau, died in 1632. The young fop was with the king at Rosenborg Castle, celebrating his appointment as Chancellor and was determined to match Christian’s consumption of wine, glass for glass. Rantzau became so drunk that he fell from the castle wall, hit his head on a stone and drowned in the moat. Anna Christiane became gravely ill shortly afterwards. Some said that she was overcome with grief, others that it was due to smallpox. She asked that Countess Paladin be at her side and Cecilie Meiden of the Ice People duly left her five-year-old twins at Gabrielshus and set off to Court again.

Meanwhile, dark clouds were continuing to gather over Graastensholm.

Tarald Meiden, Cecilie’s brother, had never been known for being astute. It was when he was having lunch with his wife, Yrja, his two sons and his parents one summer’s day in 1633 that he said the fatal words that were to trigger the terrible change in his son, Kolgrim.

“I received a letter from Tarjei today,” he announced at the table. Tarjei was the eldest of Are’s three sons, who had distinguished himself as a brilliant doctor at an early age. So far, the conversation had only been about trivial matters, but this statement made his parents give him a sharp look.

“You did?” said Liv to her son. “Why? I thought Tarjei had applied for a position in Erfurt to work with a scholar or some learned man, as his assistant. What did he write?”

“He said that he’s dealing with a terrible outbreak of smallpox. And he worries that like so many others, he’ll be infected.”

“Yes!,” said Yrja. “I’ve heard that smallpox is terribly dangerous.”

“Tarjei is too good to be taken by an epidemic,” replied Tarald’s father, Dag Meiden. “But why does he write to you about it?”

“He asked me to look after the Ice People’s secret supply of herbs and potions – but only if something were to happen to him, of course. He told me he’d write a final letter describing the hiding-place and that he wanted Mattias to inherit it all in due course.”

Almost before her son had finished speaking, Liv, horrified at the significance of his words, pretended to have a violent choking fit, which immediately alerted Tarald to his indiscretion. Kolgrim, who sat opposite his grandmother, glanced furiously round the table, a dangerous amber glow showing briefly in his eyes.

“Of course he must have everything with him in Germany, you understand,” Tarald added, trying to save the conversation. “I’m sure of that.”

“What secrets are you talking about?” asked his younger son, Mattias, speaking with the wide-eyed innocence of any eight-year-old. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ll tell you all about it when you’re older,” muttered Tarald hastily. “We won’t go into it now.”

The answer seemed to satisfy the boy. He was not inquisitive. If his dad said so, then so be it, was his attitude. But this wasn’t the case with Kolgrim. What he’d just heard had sparked off a burning rage inside him. His parents and grandparents were keeping something from him. The secrets of the Ice People! And why was Mattias to have the supply? After all, wasn’t he, Kolgrim, the older of the two half-brothers?

All through that day, the fury burned deeper and deeper into his soul. There was something he hadn’t been told! Was the secret knowledge only with Tarjei? Oh, no – he’d seen how Grandma Liv had tried to warn his dad about his indiscretion, so he was almost certain that Tarjei didn’t have the precious things with him. No, they must be somewhere at Linden Avenue!

All the effort Tarjei had put into keeping the existence of the Ice People’s knowledge and recipes of herbs, plants and potions a secret had now been undone. Tarjei had heeded Tengel’s warning to him as the newborn Kolgrim lay in his cradle. “Never, ever allow that child to have even the smallest herb. He mustn’t have any of them!” he’d said. “And teach him nothing!”

Now, in his hour of need, with his own life possibly in danger, Tarjei had turned to his cousin, Tarald, the father of the two half-brothers. But in many ways, Tarald was the worst person he could have possibly chosen.Despite being a responsible family man, he’d always shown a remarkable inability to think before speaking. Now, because of Tarald, Kolgrim had heard things he was never supposed to have heard, and unlike his dad, he was extremely sharp-witted in his own evil way.

He had to find out more, but who was he to ask? Certainly not Grandpa or Grandma because they weren’t easily fooled. His dad, for his part, was too weak and he’d never go against his own parents. Stupid Yrja, his stepmother and mother of Mattias, wouldn’t know anything. He’d swear to that. After a lot of thought, his intuition told him that he should approach the one member of the family who wasn’t too clever but not too stupid either. So the next morning he walked nonchalantly into the yard at Linden Avenue.

“Hello there!” Are called pleasantly on catching sight of him. “Out for a stroll, are you?”

“Yes, I want Brand to mend something for me. He’s very strong.”

“And am I not strong enough, then?”

“No, not like Brand.”

Are laughed. “Did you hear that, Meta? I’m of no use any more!”

Meta simply shook her head. She’d grown thin and tetchy over the years and old age didn’t become her. She complained of stomach pains all the time and had never stopped grieving for Trond, who’d been her favourite son. As Kolgrim walked off, her glance followed him anxiously.

“I don’t know why, Are, but that boy always sends shivers down my spine.”

“Oh, come on! He’s come on in leaps and bounds!”

“You might think so,” she mumbled. “I’m not so sure.”

***

A short while later Kolgrim found Brand tending a field of peas. They exchanged pleasantries for a short while, then without any warning Kolgrim asked him bluntly: “Have you ever seen the Ice People’s secret herbs, plants and potions?”

Brand walked a few steps to the edge of the field and sat down, deep in thought. Now twenty-four years old, he was the size of a bear and moved in the same lumbering way. He and Matilda hadn’t had any more children since the birth of their son, Andreas. The boy was the image of his dad and granddad, Are, and somebody to be proud of.

“No, I’ve never seen the supply,” replied Brand. “I think my brother, Tarjei, is the one who has it.”

Sitting beside his dad’s youngest cousin, Kolgrim looked tiny and much like a cunning little lizard.

“What exactly is in the supply?” Kolgrim asked.

“Have you never heard the story?”

“Only bits of it. I don’t know why everyone else is allowed to hear the story except me.”

It was common knowledge that the family had been careful not to say too much to Kolgrim about the Ice People and after a moment’s thought, Brand sniffed and took a deep breath.

“Trond and I always felt that you’d been treated unfairly, Kolgrim. If anybody should know the legend of the Ice People, it’s you.”

“I think so too,” agreed Kolgrim, his bottom lip quivering. He really managed to look unhappy and ready to burst into tears. “I’ve heard about Tengel the Evil, of course, as well as your granddad, Tengel the Good, and my Grandma, Sol, who was able to do magic. But I don’t know any more than that.”

So there and then, Brand told him everything about all the accursed members of their clan and as Kolgrim listened, his eyes grew wider and wider. But not for one moment did he see himself as cursed. In his view, he’d been chosen!

“Did Tengel the Evil really go and seek out Satan?” he asked at last. “If so, where did he go?”

“Nobody knows.”

“Then what did he do?”

“He put all the herbs, plants, potions and objects he possessed into a great kettle and boiled them up to a brew, a potion more terrible than any man could ever imagine. You can be sure that Tengel the Evil knew the recipes to lots of potions like that!”

“Did he drink it?”

“Who knows? Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, he would have said spells over it – to conjure forth the one with goat’s feet, you understand – and it’s said that he was successful, although Grandpa Tengel didn’t believe it. He said it was just a family peculiarity that some of us have cat-like eyes and special powers that normal people don’t have. But nevertheless, I wonder. I always wonder...”

“What?”

“If what they say is true. I think Satan himself might be a part of it all.”

“Jesus!”

“You mustn’t speak like that. You know that perfectly well,” Brand admonished.

Brand continued recounting what he knew of the story for a minute or two, then added in conclusion: “And ultimately it’s said that one of Tengel’s heirs will become the greatest sorcerer there ever was.”

‘That’s me – that’s me!’ thought Kolgrim excitedly. He must be one of the “chosen” as he wanted them to be called. He felt he’d known it for a long time – just one glance in the mirror had told him so. And Tengel the Evil must have drunk from the devil’s potion, that was another thing that he was sure of. And one day he’d do the same – if only he knew where to do it, and how.

“Has Tarjei taken the herbs and potions with him to where he is now?” Kolgrim asked Brand at last.

“To Erfurt? No, Trond didn’t think so,” replied Brand. “And, oh yes, Trond was also one of the accursed. Did you know that?”

No, Kolgrim had never heard that before. If only he’d known when Trond was alive – then the two of them would have become incredibly powerful. Together, he thought, they would have been invincible!

Brand had been quiet for a few moments. Remembering his dead brother had made him feel sad, but suddenly he snapped out of his thoughts.

Brand whispered excitedly: “In among the herbs, plants and all, they say there’s a mandrake!”

Kolgrim knew about these sort of magic herbs. In fact, he already knew far more than anybody imagined and it all held immense interest for him. His head was filled with every detail and he was always thinking about them. Poor Brand, on the other hand, was altogether too trusting to understand the gravity and significance of what he’d planted in Kolgrim’s little black soul.

***

That Sunday, after learning the truth from Brand, Kolgrim pretended that he had a temperature so that he’d have to stay at home when everybody else would be going to church.

As soon as everybody had left for church, Kolgrim went immediately to Linden Avenue and searched quickly through the house and the outbuildings. He found nothing in this first search but he didn’t waste one minute of the long church service and continued looking around a second time. Eventually, he had to creep away when he heard the servants coming back. He had concentrated on the old part of the house, but he couldn’t find the treasure anywhere. Disappointed and in a furious rage, he returned reluctantly to his ‘sickbed’.

The town of Erfurt was so far away that he had no idea where it was – and making such a journey just to hold a knife to the throat of the treacherous Tarjei was impossible. But there was something else he could do and it was something he’d wanted to do for years. He could be free of his rival. The one person who stood between him and so many things now challenged him for the most coveted prize of all: the practical wizardry of the Ice People. He’d soon show them all what happened to those who offended him.

With these thoughts in mind, Kolgrim laid his plans with painstaking precision. Perhaps he remembered the fairytale that Cecilie used to tell him, where the Great Troll became upset when small boys did things to hurt their younger siblings. Whatever his reasons were, he decided against a straightforward killing. There were other, more subtle ways, he told himself.

One day in July he asked to be allowed to go to Christiania with his granddad. He took with him all the coins he’d saved and kept hidden over the years. They were only small amounts of money that he’d been given by well-meaning family and friends – but now at last he had a use for them.

While his granddad was busy on his various errands, Kolgrim visited a stall outside a silversmith’s workshop and bought a nice brooch that would go well with a woman’s traditional costume. Having bought it, he showed it to nobody and during the days that followed, he made further preparations. On one occasion, without saying a word to anyone, he went riding for several hours, searching out locations and routes. As he rode, he listened to the fearful moan of the wind in the treetops, all the time grinning cruelly to himself.

The next evening, satisfied that he’d got everything in place, he made his next move. As the two half-brothers lay in their beds in the room they still shared, Kolgrim whispered to little Mattias: “Have you ever seen fish dancing?”

“No,” answered young Mattias. “Can fish dance?”

“Of course. Would you like to see?”

Mattias said he would.

“But they’re in a magical place,” Kolgrim whispered. “And they only come out at a certain time. We’ll have to creep up on them - but nobody else must know about it.”

“Not even Mum?” asked Mattias thoughtfully.

“No, not Mum – of course not! That would spoil everything, don’t you see?”

His little brother nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Then I’ll take you with me to the place where they dance – but not tomorrow because they won’t be there then. It’ll be the day after. I’ll ride out early to make sure it’s the right day and you can meet me at the edge of the woods by the great oak tree. Let’s say nine o’clock, okay? Do you know the numbers on the clock?”

“No, but I can ask dad.”

“No, for heaven’s sake. Don’t do that! When the maids clear the table after breakfast, that’s when you sneak away. But remember, nobody must see you. We shan’t be gone for long, so nobody will find out.”

“I’ll do as you say,” the good-natured Mattias answered.

The following day Kolgrim said casually to his dad: “Will you allow me to ride into Christiania tomorrow, dad? The last time we were there, I saw a lovely brooch in a silversmith’s window. I’d love to buy it for Grandma Liv so she can wear it in church on the Feast of St. Olaf.”

Kolgrim couldn’t care less about the church, and could usually create a more or less plausible excuse to stay at home.

Tarald was touched by his son’s seeming selflessness.

“But surely you haven’t got enough money for that, Kolgrim?”

“Yes. You see I’ve saved up,” replied Kolgrim, smiling proudly.

“Goodness me! Well done! But you shouldn’t be riding on your own. Maybe I should take time to go with you ...”

“I’m twelve years old, dad! You know that I’m a very good horseman. And I know that I must keep a watch out for robbers and swindlers.”

So early the following day Kolgrim waved goodbye to his concerned parents and rode off towards Christiania. But as soon as he was out of sight of the Graastensholm farms, he turned down hidden paths and byways, making his way around the parish in a large semicircle. Some time later, as he sat astride his horse by the great oak, he watched a little figure trotting across the fields to reach their meeting-place on time. As he waited, an icy calmness settled over Kolgrim’s heart.

“I made it,” panted Mattias when he arrived. “Nobody saw me, but I was worried because they said that you’d gone to Christiania. I thought you might not be here.” Then with a frown, he added: “But I didn’t like telling a fib to Mum.”

“Did she ask anything?” asked Kolgrim harshly.

“No, but not saying anything is almost like fibbing.”

Kolgrim had never been burdened with such scruples so he didn’t understand Mattias’s feelings at all. Besides, he cared even less for his stepmother, Yrja, who’d always painstakingly tried to show him the same love as she had for her own son.

“We’ll be gone such a short while that they won’t notice anything,” said Kolgrim firmly. “Now climb up behind me.”

It took a little effort but as soon as Mattias was clinging on behind him, Kolgrim turned the horse and spurred it forward. Like all younger brothers, Mattias worshipped his older sibling. He was the hero, the one who could do anything and who knew everything. Kolgrim tended to regard this adulation with contempt rather than pride.

As they rode through the forest, Mattias said happily: “This is so exciting, I couldn’t even fall asleep last night!”

‘Excellent,’ thought Kolgrim, another ugly smile appearing on his face. ‘That’s exactly what I’d hoped.’

“I’ve brought some food for us,” continued Mattias in the same excited tone of voice. “We can eat it later, can’t we?”

“You did what?” Kolgrim’s voice was like an explosion. “Did anyone see you?”

“No. I snuck into the kitchen when nobody was there.”

Kolgrim relaxed. “Good! Yes, we might get hungry.”

For a while they rode along in silence through the green shadows of the forest, two young brothers apparently idyllically happy in the middle of the wonders of nature.

Then at one point, Mattias whispered in Kolgrim’s ear:

“Listen to the wind in the leaves. It sounds sad and beautiful at the same time – just like the requiem in church.”

“A requiem? What’s that?” asked Kolgrim, who was unfamiliar with the peculiarities of religious rituals.

“It’s a service for the dead.”

‘That’s very apt,’ thought his elder brother, grinning to himself again as he guided the horse carefully forward through the trees along the path he’d carefully explored days before.

“It’s a very long way, isn’t it?” Mattias said a little while later. “How much further is it?”

“We’ll soon be there,” promised Kolgrim. “It won’t be long now.”

“But they rode on deeper and deeper into the forest for a long time without any signs of where they were headed for.

Finally, Mattias said: “Please don’t be angry with me, Kolgrim. But my bottom is beginning to hurt. Can we rest, do you think?”

Kolgrim ignored this request. His heart was beginning to race with excitement and he spurred the horse on a little faster.

“Don’t worry,” he told Mattias, “we’re almost there!”

By now they were following a path so overgrown and green that it was barely distinguishable from the forest floor all around them. It had clearly not seen many feet that summer and if Mattias had noticed any sign of hoof-prints, he would never have connected them with Kolgrim’s mysterious absence from home a few days earlier. They crossed small clearings, some edged with rotting raspberry canes, and once or twice they passed little groups of long-abandoned cottages huddled together.

At last the trees began to thin and open countryside appeared in front of them again. The wooded areas now consisted mainly of oaks, but as they moved on these were replaced by aspen and alder, which Mattias could see were growing along the edges of a broad stretch of water.

“Is this where we’ll be seeing the fishes dance?” he asked eagerly.

Kolgrim didn’t reply but rode on in silence until he turned the horse’s head towards the shore and urged it down a narrow path that led to a small jetty jutting out from the land. There he dismounted and helped his brother to the ground.

“Ooh! Look out there – that’s the sea, isn’t it?” exclaimed Mattias.

Far out, between rocky outcrops and islands, he could see a great body of blue water glittering in the hazy sunshine.

“Of course it’s the sea – that’s the only place where the fishes dance. They’re called dolphins and they’re very big. We need to cross the fjord first. Come on! I’ve got a boat.”

“Have you?” Mattias stared at him wide-eyed as he tied the horse to a tree. “Where?”

Kolgrim pointed to a small rowing boat, moored close by, which was almost hidden beneath overhanging trees.

“Over there, look.”

He’d been very thorough in his planning and knew that the little boat was seldom used. Leading the way along the jetty, he helped Mattias jump on board. Then he cast off and began rowing directly away from land, knowing that the curtain of overgrown alders along the shore would prevent whoever owned the boat from seeing them.

The oars splashed rhythmically and Mattias at first leaned over the side, watching the small whirlpools left in their wake. Kolgrim wasn’t hurrying and as he continued to pull slowly and calmly on the oars, while his tired young brother, Mattias, settled himself down in the stern, his eyelids growing heavy.

“Why don’t you take a nap if you feel like it,” said Kolgrim in a low, hypnotic voice. “It’s a long way out. I’ll wake you when there’s something to see.”

Mattias nodded drowsily, made himself more comfortable and tried to fall asleep.

When they reached the headland beyond which the fjord widened towards the open sea, Kolgrim quietly shipped the oars and let the boat drift towards a small beach. He made sure Mattias was still fast asleep. Then he gently slid both oars into the water and watched them drift away. Climbing quietly onto the shore, he stepped round to the bow, leaned on it and pushed hard, sending the little boat back into deeper water.

He watched the little boat drift steadily out to sea, helped by the retreating tide just as he’d planned. There was still no sound or sign of any movement on board.

After watching it for a few moments longer, with a grim smile of satisfaction spreading across his face, Kolgrim ran as fast as he could along the beach and round the rocky shoreline back towards the jetty where his horse was waiting. To justify his evil deed, he repeated to himself over and over again as he ran. “I haven’t killed him. No, I haven’t killed him.”

Were his childhood memories of Cecilie’s tales about how the “Great Troll” judged the good and bad deeds of small boys coming back to him? Maybe – it was unlikely that there could be any other explanation for Kolgrim’s ‘humane’ elimination of his troublesome little bother, Mattias.

***

Later that afternoon, Kolgrim returned back home to find the family and servants nervous and agitated. They all looked pale.

“Kolgrim, have you seen Mattias anywhere?” Liv asked him in a frantic voice as soon as she saw him.

Kolgrim jumped down from his horse, clutching a small package in his hand.

“Mattias? No, I’ve been in Christiania all day.”

“But what about early this morning?”

“He was still sleeping when I left,” replied Kolgrim, his face a picture of innocence.

“No, he was at breakfast with us,” broke in Tarald. “He disappeared after that – Kolgrim had been gone long by then.”

Yrja was pale and drawn. Her face looked like a death mask.

“Mattias took some food with him,” she said, “enough for two. I’m sure he did!”

“How can you be sure?” asked Tarald.

“Because of the way Mattias always uses the butter knife – and he took bread, cheese and meat for two people at least.”

“Where is Grandpa?” wondered Kolgrim.

“Still out looking,” Liv told him with deep anxiety showing in her eyes. “We’ve been out all day searching, all of us!”

Yrja’s face hardened and she grabbed hold of Kolgrim. “You know where he is,” she shouted. “I can see it in your face. You know where he is, don’t you?”

Tarald pushed himself between them. “Yrja, my dear! You shouldn’t treat Kolgrim so harshly.”

Yrja struggled to contain her feelings, but the panic she’d been hiding all day had now taken hold of her. “I know him,” she screamed. “I know that innocent look! He’s done something to Mattias. I know it ... I just KNOW it!”

By now, Kolgrim’s eyes were brimming with the tears of the unjustly accused. “I’ve only been to Christiania,” he sniffed. “I went to buy a gift for Grandma. Look!”

He unfolded the paper package in his hand to reveal the shining silver brooch.

“Oh, Kolgrim!” said Liv, filled suddenly with emotion. “How sweet of you! You must forgive Yrja – a mother can’t always think clearly when something has happened to her child.”

Yrja was choking and sobbing uncontrollably. “The only good thing I ever did with ... my life ... was to bring ... my little Mattias into this world. He can’t be lost! He can’t be ... gone!”

“He isn’t lost,” Tarald comforted her. “He’ll be home again before nightfall, you’ll see.”

***

But Mattias didn’t come home – that night or the next day or the day after that. Graastensholm seemed stricken by grief and sorrow and Yrja could be heard calling out Mattias’s name day and night. Everybody lost count of the number of times she would rush back and forth through the forest, searching and crying endlessly.

When she managed to sleep, which wasn’t very often, she’d still wake in the middle of the night, panic-stricken, and cry out: “He needs me! He’s all alone and he needs me!” And she’d wander off once more at daybreak, walking again in circles through the forest and woodlands, asking in the cottages, searching, searching, always searching.

Liv lost her serene, happy attitude to life and her sorrow turned her hair grey within days. Dag hadn’t been in the best of health before Mattias disappeared, but now he became increasingly frail. Tarald’s fingernails were bitten to the quick. While he didn’t often allow the despair he was suffering to get the upper hand, when he was alone he’d go to Mattias’s room, pacing to and fro, touching all his things – and sobbing until his whole body ached. There wasn’t one person of the parish who hadn’t helped in the search for the fine little boy from Graastensholm. Everybody missed him and shared the family’s sadness.

One day, Kolgrim happened to laugh at something insignificant, which made Yrja fly at him in a rage. She grabbed him and began shaking him for all she was worth.

“It makes you happy, doesn’t it?” she screamed, her voice razor-sharp. “You’re happy to be rid of your brother so that you can inherit everything!”

She had no idea how close to the truth she was. Her only mistake was in not knowing what it was Kolgrim wanted to inherit. In his turn, Kolgrim was overcome with burning hatred.

“Leave me alone, you damned old woman!” he whispered, his eyes turning a bright yellow. Then his voice changed to a spiteful snarl. “Now we see you for what you really are! You’ve never cared about me, only about the sweet little boy you gave birth to!”

Immensely shocked, Liv spoke sharply to her older grandson. “What utter nonsense, Kolgrim! No motherless child could ever have been shown more love than you. We’ve given you all our affection, every one of us – from your granddad, the notary, to the youngest stable boy. We’ve shown you love and affection at all times and pampered you. Why, Granddad and I even begged for your life when you were newly born and thought to be too injured ... to survive. We wanted you then and we cared for you, Yrja as well! I doubt that your poor, dear mother, Sunniva, could have given you greater love. That’s something you should remember.”

Her outburst over, Yrja had come quickly to her senses.

“Forgive me, Kolgrim,” she said. “I’m so distressed I no longer know what I’m saying.”

“Oh, go to HELL!” he hissed so that only she could hear him, and without saying anything further, he stormed out of the room.

Liv had her suspicions about the truth of the matter. So she wrote a letter to Cecilie in which she described their deep despair and told her how they were still clinging to a faint hope that Mattias might still be alive; how he might be lost or lying somewhere injured and in need of help, and how they feared he might not be found until it was too late. She ended her letter by saying:

Dearest Cecilie, can you please come home as soon as possible? We have strong misgivings about Kolgrim and believe he might know something. You’re the only person who’s ever managed to tame him. Please come home to us. Our dear little Mattias has now been gone for five long weeks and Yrja’s beginning to lose her reason. Dad and I can’t stand this torment any longer.

Cecilie had only recently returned home to Gabrielshus from attending to Anna Christiane at Court as she lay on her deathbed and, more than anything else, needed to rest in the company of her small family. But she soon decided that she had to travel urgently back to Norway.

“And no, Alexander,” she told her concerned husband, “I shan’t take the twins with me to Graastensholm. I’m quite certain that Kolgrim’s behind all this. I’ll never allow Gabriella or Tancred to fall victim to his predatory gaze!”

“But surely he wouldn’t ever try to harm them, would he?” asked Alexander in alarm. “Do you really think he might?”

“Kolgrim was very attached to me as you know – and he thinks I betrayed him when I had children of my own. I’ve always doubted the sincerity of his apparent goodwill towards Mattias. So you can rest assured that no matter how much I would wish it, I shan’t ever take our little ones back to my home. Mum and Dad have been here to see them, as has Tarjei. But the rest of my family have never met Tancred and Gabriella, and it’s all because of Kolgrim.”

“I think you’re being a little unfair towards the boy,” said Alexander, “but then you know him better than I do. We’ll have to wait until the next time. I do hope you find Mattias. He was such a fine young chap.”

Cecilie sighed deeply. “If only we had Grandpa Tengel to help us! Or Sol. They always seemed to have the gift of finding people who were lost. Mind you, Sol would probably have sided with Kolgrim as he’s her grandchild. Anyway, I’ll stay with them one week but after that I’ll have to rest. It took a lot out of me being with the Princess during her final days – and now Mattias, dear little Mattias, has somehow disappeared!”

When Cecilie arrived at Graastensholm a week later, she was horrified to discover for herself how the grief and anxiety had affected everybody. On the very day she arrived, she took Kolgrim aside and spoke quietly to him, but she was dismayed to find that she no longer had his confidence. Besides, it was immediately clear to her that he was much more interested in something else, something that he considered much more important – and minor matters like Mattias didn’t concern him.

“When will Tarjei be back?” was almost the first thing that he asked her.

“I don’t know,” replied Cecilie. “But he’s not been home for a long time, so it will probably be soon. Do you like Tarjei?”

Kolgrim’s eyes darted around the room. Inside his head, he was thinking: ‘Tarjei? What use is he? It’s the things he owns that interest me.’ But out loud, he said with feigned enthusiasm: “Oh, yes, I like him very much! Tarjei is so wise!”

Later that day Cecilie sought out her mother and asked to speak to her in private. With a very serious expression on her face, she took her mother’s hand.

“The boy knows something. I’m sure of it. But he’s far too difficult to control just now – I can’t reach him. I’ll keep trying for the rest of my stay here. But I can’t promise anything.”

Liv Meiden stared at her daughter for a long while in a horrified silence. “This is like our worst nightmares come true,” she whispered at last with a tearful sob. “It’s like living in a dreadful dream. I keep hoping we’ll all wake up and find it isn’t true – but I know that won’t happen.”

Cecilie nodded, close to tears herself. “I’ve never known Kolgrim’s expression to be so unyielding. It makes me sure that he knows more than he’s telling us.”

Although Cecilie stayed at Graastensholm as promised for a whole week, she was unable to make any progress with Kolgrim. The constant searching for Mattias also proved to be in vain. After seven days she very reluctantly left her distressed and grieving family to return to her twins and Alexander at Gabrielshus. Summer at Graastensholm and Linden Avenue dragged on into the most miserable autumn for them all.

The only family member who remained calm and unaffected by events was Kolgrim himself. He settled down quietly to wait for Tarjei to come home, confident now that he was the only true heir to those things that were worth more to him than all the gold on earth.