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

one of the women, “and we haven’t had anybody to replace him yet. Such a shame. The priest was such a good person. We moved about among the sick – and caught the disease. But the girl is so big that she must’ve been baptized.”
    She tried to choke her tears. Everybody had become extremely fond of little Sol.
    When the barber had left, Silje sat with little Sol once more, and she could feel how she was overcome with despair. She had become so close to the little girl that it was as if Sol was her own daughter.
    “Help us,” she whispered. “Help us, help us, please don’t let her die – she’s so full of life. For heaven’s sake, please don’t take her from me. Please let her live !”
    But little Sol continued to run a temperature. So Silje began to fear for the next fearful sign.
    Sol looked at Silje with glazed eyes.
    “Please get well!” Silje begged her. “I can’t bear to see you in pain. I need you.”
    Sol’s eyes grew big as she said, “Tilja needs Tol?”
    “Yes, I need Sol. You and I belong together. And we have little brother to take care of as well. And nothing is fun when you’re ill. I’m so very fond of you, little Sol.”
    A gentle smile lit up the little girl’s face. She placed her burning, hot feverish hand in Silje. From that moment, Silje knew that Sol had bonded with her, felt comfortable with her and that Silje loved her. Up until now, Silje had tended to feel that their relationship had been based on necessity.
    She’d referred to Dag as Sol’s baby brother. That might have been unwise, especially if they were forced to go their separate ways. But it had come from the heart. It just seemed so right, and she didn’t want to be separated from either of them. She didn’t want to see this pretty little girl placed in a coffin!
    Later that evening she heard a visitor arrive. Benedikt had a rider with him when he returned from the church. Silje heard voices talking to each other, and suddenly the guest stood in the doorway to the small cabin where she and the children stayed.
    “Leave the room, Silje,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.
    The room was dark, and this time he wasn’t dressed in a wolf-skin. He wore a dark brown cloak over his tunic, but she recognized him nevertheless. Her hands trembled as she got up from the bedside.
    Sol began to whimper, stretching out her arms towards Silje.
    “Perhaps I ought to stay here?” Silje said, forcing herself to meet his gaze, quite certain that he could see right through her.
    He looked at her with his peculiar eyes. Now she could see that they were ice-blue between the black eyelashes.
    “You’re fond of the child, aren’t you?”
    “Yes, very much so. I’m very fond of her.”
    “Then leave. Wait in the kitchen together with the women.”
    Silje left reluctantly, trying to ignore Sol’s tears.
    Nobody said a word in the kitchen. The atmosphere was so strange, the air charged with tension – but of what? Anxiety? Fear? Not that it was a good idea for the insurgent to visit the farm. In fact it was dangerous, perilously dangerous!
    Benedikt was ill at ease and stood rigidly at the window. The foreman sat turning his cap in his hands, and the women sat quite still. Silje sat down, placing her hands in her lap.
    One of the women began to pray with a low voice.
    “Stop that !” Benedikt hissed uncontrollably.
    “Sorry,” the woman by the name of Marie said. She was the one who’d taken most care of Sol.
    Silje rose abruptly. “He’s been in there for quite a long time. “I’ll go in and see what’s happening.”
    Strangely, nobody tried to prevent her from doing so.
    Somewhat hesitantly, she opened the door to the small cabin.
    He straightened and turned towards her, looking neither angry nor surprised that she had entered the room.
    “The child is strong,” he said with his peculiar, harsh voice. “She’ll survive but … “
    He interrupted himself.
    “Will she really?” Silje asked doubtfully. She