Free The Ice People 1 - Spellbound (The Legend of the Ice People) by Margit Sandemo

that.”
    My word, she’d come to grow very fond of the old man whom she’d known in such a short time.
    The most important thing he’d done for her was to help her find her inner core. Silje, the stranger, who didn’t fit in back at the farm, had now discovered that there was another world. Perhaps this was where she belonged?

Chapter 4
    Silje was unable to return to the church the following day. She had a very bad infection in one of her legs and was told to rest. Most of the time she played with Sol and did various small jobs which she could do while sitting down.
    Sol was a lively little girl, very spontaneous and straightforward and not the least bit pretentious. When she was angry, she was very angry, and when she was happy it really showed. Then she would give everybody a hug in turn. But nobody could understand what she said. They thought that she could be no more than two years old.
    The following day, Silje’s leg looked better so it was decided that she could join Benedikt again. This time she brought along Sol to unburden the two women a bit.
    Just like last time, they painted apart from each other. Silje was given a slightly more difficult job: She was to paint the halo around the heads of the angels. She did an excellent job of it.
    “You’ve got it in you,” Benedikt said. “Come. Then I’ll show you what I painted yesterday when you weren’t here.”
    She followed him into one of the side chapels. Under the small, vaulted ceiling he had painted some scenes from the Day of Judgment. Silje immediately saw what it was he wanted to show her. It was a half-finished painting of the Fallen Virgin. She blushed and turned away.
    Benedikt laughed. “She resembles you, doesn’t she? Her face, I mean. I had to imagine the rest, of course, but that wasn’t so difficult.”
    Silje was lost for words because she was very affronted. The painting didn’t do her justice at all. Her own stomach was much flatter and she had more above the waist than that … thing!
    “That doesn’t look like me at all,” she blurted.
    “That’s your own fault,” he laughed. You didn’t want to be my model. But I’ll be happy to change it. Just let me know where I went wrong.”
    The best thing would have been for Silje to turn round and walk away just to show how cross she was. But Silje couldn’t bear the thought that her face was to sit on this pear-shaped body. So she made a few, embarrassed gestures with her hands over the painting. Benedikt looked her up and down, comparing her with the painting. “You’re quite right. You’re a bosomy person but slim from the waist down. I can fix that. But we also need a devil. Ah, but that’ll have to wait. I must finish the Field Marshal’s Death.
    Silje went to the church every day, and she did her best to hide that her leg hadn’t healed. Sol wasn’t allowed to come along anymore because she was far too difficult to look after.
    And every day Silje would put on the fine silk cloak. On one trip, Benedikt remarked: “You caress that cloak as if it were a lover.”
    She was startled. “It’s just because the silk is so lovely and soft.”
    “The way you wrap yourself in it – and breathe in its sensual fragrance – has that anything to do with the structure of the material, I wonder?”
    She drew herself upright. “I’ve never worn such a beautiful garment before. That’s all,” she mumbled, embarrassed.
    On the fourth day Benedikt told Silje that she had become so accomplished that he would give her a more important task. There was very little time left in which to finish work in the church. It wouldn’t be so long now before it was to be used again, and it looked as if he might not be able to finish in time. Could she paint the devil that seduces the virgin if he drew the outlines?
    Silje was lost for words. Was she to paint a complete figure?
    Even so, she could feel that she would be able to do so. Ever since she was a little girl, she had known that she was