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Friendship

The Legend of The Ice People 5 - Friendship

Series: The Legend of The Ice People

Title: Friendship

Title number: 5

Original title: Dödssynden

Translator: Anna Halager

ISBN: 978-87-7107-322-5

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 estabished 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

In the winter of 1625, Cecilie Meiden stood on the bow of a ship as it glided smoothly towards the entrance of the harbour in Copenhagen. The weather had been bad since they’d left Norway, so they were badly delayed. The early darkness of that February night was already setting over the sea and the city, and although Cecilie was wearing warm mittens, the raw winter chill forced her to blow on her fingers from time to time to keep them warm.

She didn’t want to touch the tarred timbers of the hull, so she stood freely on the deck shifting and adjusting her stance to the roll of the ship with the ease of an experienced sailor. It was wonderful to feel the fresh sea air on her face. Standing there alone, as far forward in the ship as she could, made her feel as if the whole world belonged to her.

As she gazed towards the harbour, she found herself thinking back over the past few months. What a mess she’d made of her life. But surely it hadn’t all been her fault?

For the umpteenth time at least, she told herself that she couldn’t bear to see Alexander Paladin ever again. She knew it would be impossible for her to look him in the eye without revealing that she knew of his secret vice.

Cecilie had never imagined that knowing his secret would cause her so much anguish. She’d never really admitted to herself just how much Alexander meant to her.

As the ship entered the harbour of Copenhagen, she began to recall their first fateful meeting. At the time she’d been frightened, unsure of herself and saddened by the news about how the recent outbreak of the plague had affected her family. She had recently arrived as a total stranger at the Court in faraway Denmark. Then by mistake, Alexander Paladin had entered her room and in that short meeting he’d seemed to give her back the strength and courage to go on. She’d liked him very much from the first moment and he had continued to support her in that small and difficult world that was always filled with intrigue and envy. Whenever he was near, her soul seemed to be filled with happiness.

He was one of the King’s cavaliers and was exceptionally handsome with an obvious strength of character and an air of quiet authority about him. Dark-haired, masculine and with aristocratic features, he had a distinctive yet melancholy smile. Without her realising it, that unforgettable smile was to lead so bizarrely to her downfall.

Alexander Paladin had always been reticent and reserved. He’d made it very clear to Cecilie that he liked her; a true friend who cared for her. Why then did it hurt so much to discover his secret? Shouldn’t she of all people, a daughter of the Ice People and the equally broad-minded Meidens, be able to accept and understand it? Why should she be so disturbed?

It was during her visit to her home in Norway that she’d learned the painful truth about the enigmatic Alexander. The explanation had come from her cousin, Tarjei, a grandson of Tengel the Good and a young man already possessed of great knowledge and an uncanny understanding of human nature. And how had she reacted? She’d been shocked and saddened. Maybe that was only natural. But had she really needed to throw herself into the arms of young Martinius, the vicar, because his sad smile reminded her of Alexander? It had been uncanny how alike those two men were in so many ways.

Never before had Cecilie regretted anything as much and so fiercely as she did that short passionate encounter with Martin. In retrospect it had been horrid and repulsive. Two people: both bitter, disappointed and alone; both desperately needing to be loved or – to be more brutal – needing to be physically intimate with somebody.

In effect, she’d willingly allowed herself to be violated. Were she ever to marry, she’d have to stand before her husband and confess that she wasn’t a virgin. How would that unknown man react? Would he turn away from her because of her rash actions? Or would he understand?

Through the turmoil of her thoughts she realised that the ship had come alongside and mooring ropes were being thrown ashore. Although people at Court knew when she was due to arrive, she could see that there was nobody on the quayside to meet her. Even though they’d been delayed by the stormy weather, from the vantage point of the castle it wouldn’t have been difficult to see that the ship had arrived. Now she’d have to make her way there alone – through unlit streets where all manner of riff-raff might be skulking in the shadows waiting to creep up on her. She looked around for someone on the ship who might accompany her, but in vain. So, grasping her travelling case firmly in one hand, she took a deep breath, summoned up her courage and went ashore.

Beyond the bustle of the well-lit port area, there were few signs of life in the narrow empty streets of the town now that the day’s business was over. As she hurried towards the castle, Cecilie Meiden realised that she was afraid. Sol of the Ice People, whom Cecilie resembled in so many ways, would have looked on this as a challenge. Sol had loved darkness and turmoil. She’d probably have loved nothing better than to meet some gang of ruffians intent on robbing her. They would have given her the opportunity to exercise her extraordinary talents at defending herself. Although Cecilie was a descendant of the Ice People, she hadn’t been endowed with any of their mysterious powers. She only had her wits to depend upon.

As she walked on, inside her mind she was still trying distractedly to justify her past actions to herself. She knew how a lady must conduct herself and her demeanour at Court had always been in every way perfectly lady-like. It seemed that it was only when she was at home in Norway with her warm-hearted, loving family that she allowed herself to relax a little. But what had come over her to hurl herself headlong into the arms of the vicar’s embrace? She shook her head, shuddering once more at the memory and lowered her eyes like a schoolgirl brought in shame before her teacher.

She was absolutely mortified now at her uncharacteristic behaviour in the potting shed at the churchyard. Her only consolation was that the vicar had taken the initiative. If he hadn’t put his hands on her and whispered enticing words of loneliness and desire in her ear, then it would never have happened.

But she couldn’t console herself that easily: she knew she’d been very willing, so very willing.

During the first stretch of her journey through the narrow streets that led up from the harbour, Cecilie suffered nothing worse than some crude insults from a pair of street whores warning her to stay away from their patch. She pointedly ignored their shouts and hurried on, but what she didn’t know was that a greater danger was lurking at the end of the last street before Copenhagen Castle. She had to pass through an alley that seemed to her to be packed with a noisy crowd of wretches – tramps, drunkards, whores and criminals of every hue. In the middle of the alley they’d built a fire of straw to warm themselves and were busy cursing and blaspheming loudly over how unfairly life had treated them.

Cecilie hesitated but she knew she had to get past – there was no other way. With her heart in her mouth, she hoped she’d be invisible and walked on as fast as she could. Far up ahead she glimpsed the open square in front of the castle. Fires were burning up there as well, and she could see the silhouettes of horses and riders – life of a completely different kind. Although it wasn’t far to the square, Cecilie felt that the narrow alley suddenly seemed like an endless road filled with anxiety and danger.

She almost managed to get past the fire and the raucous crowd without being seen. But just as she was about to heave a sigh of relief, she heard a lisping, fawning voice close behind her. Her back stiffened at the sound and her blood ran cold.

“Well, well! Look what we ‘ave ‘ere!” murmured the voice and Cecilie felt someone grab hold of her cape.

Turning quickly, she found herself staring into the insolent face of a man who was leering toothlessly at her. She realised at once that this wasn’t a situation where the protests of a refined, self-confident young noblewoman would do any good. It was clear she faced two stark choices. To stand and fight – or turn and run. She quickly chose the latter and tore herself free and began running. Another man joined the leering individual and together they began to chase after her.

“We’ll let you keep your virtue, gracious lady, just you let us take care of that case o’ yours,” yelled one of them, making a grab for her travelling bag.

In some ways, Cecilie’s instinctive reaction was characteristic of her more robust Ice People ancestors. She didn’t bother to point out that they were already too late to take her virtue, she just swung the wooden case at them with all her might. It struck the leering man with considerable force and he tumbled backwards. Another man immediately joined the chase and Cecilie stumbled on ahead of them as fast as her skirts would allow, but she was no match for them and they caught up with her at the very moment she reached the edge of the wide, open square.

In the flickering light of the fires, Cecilie saw a group of soldiers on horseback approaching but before she could cry out, one of the ruffians grabbed her: putting his hand over her mouth, he tried to drag her back towards the alleyway once more. As he did so, his companion tugged violently at her travelling case.

Cecilie twisted her head free for a few seconds and managed a short muffled scream before the hand silenced her again. Hearing her cry and seeing her distress, several of the soldiers rode quickly towards her and when Cecilie’s assailants saw the mounted men approaching, they immediately released their grip on her and melted away into the shadows of the dark alley.

“Are you alright?” asked a bearded officer.

“Yes, thank you,” panted Cecilie. “Many, many thanks to all of you!”

She was gasping for breath and her legs were shaking so violently that she was barely able to stand up. At that moment another rider reined in his horse beside her.

“Cecilie, heavens above, it’s you!” said a voice she knew very well. “My dear child!”

She lifted her eyes, and in the light from the fires she saw that the proud figure on the horse was Alexander Paladin. She couldn’t begin to describe the joy she felt at seeing him there. Gone instantly were all thoughts of his irredeemable secret. Instead she saw only a dear friend, looking noble and larger than life, dressed in shining breastplate, black cape, big knee boots and sporting a large feather in his hat.

Her face lit up. “Alexander!” she cried, smiling in delight. He bent down and took her outstretched hands. “Have you just arrived from Norway?”

“Yes. The ship was delayed and nobody came to meet me.”

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he told her, shaking his head. “People at Court can be so inconsiderate sometimes.” Turning, Alexander instantly handed over command to one of his men. “I must go with Miss Meiden and see that she arrives safely inside the castle.” He dismounted quickly and handed his horse to the rider next to him.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Cecilie,” he said pleasantly as they walked towards the castle gates. “Copenhagen has been empty without you. How have things been for you?”

“Oh, Alexander! It was lovely to be back home for a while!” She then described in vivid detail what life was like at Graastensholm.

When she’d finished, Alexander Paladin put his arm around her shoulders and said: “It’s good to see you are so happy, my little one.”

She gave him a happy smile – then suddenly remembered again the terrible truth she knew about him. Sadly, she realised once more his commanding masculinity couldn’t be hers. Without meaning to, she moved away from him very slightly and, perhaps sensing her thoughts, Alexander dropped his arm from her shoulders. In a strained silence, they walked past the guards and entered the domestic wing of the castle. When they reached the door to her room, he turned to face her and said very quietly: “I believe you know?”

Cecilie nodded. In the glow from the lamps hanging from the walls his eyes looked black and filled with infinite sorrow.

“Who told you the truth?”

“My cousin, Tarjei. He’s the one with knowledge of medicine – and is also very worldly. I’ve sometimes spoken to you about him.”

Alexander nodded. “Of course, yes, I remember.” He hesitated, looking uncomfortable. “And how did you take it?”

Cecilie found it difficult to speak. All she wanted was to rush into her room and close the door. But she knew that he didn’t deserve to be treated in that way.

“At first I found it difficult to grasp. Your ... situation I mean. I’d never heard of anything like it before. Then I became upset and ...”

She fell silent, biting her lip. She was about to break down in tears.

“And?” he said softly, encouraging her.

“And very sad,” she whispered.

Alexander stood quietly for a long time. Cecilie looked down at the floor. Her heart was pounding.

“And yet, just now, when we met out there,” he said gently. “You were happy then, weren’t you? You were glad to see me?”

“Yes, I was. At that moment I’d forgotten ...”

“And now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Now I just want so much to retain your friendship, Cecilie.”

She hesitated before replying. Could she cope with such a friendship? Was she strong enough to hide her distaste? How humiliating would it be for him to sense her dislike and her unspoken criticism? Suddenly she remembered her own experience with Martinius, and a tide of her own shame washed over her. What did she have to be proud of?

“You have my friendship, Alexander,” she answered softly. “You know you do. You’re important to me.”

“Thank you, Cecilie,” he said as he breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad.”

She smiled at him uncertainly and placed her hand tentatively on the door handle. Realising that it was time for him to go, he took her hand and kissed it. “When will you be leaving the city?” he asked quietly.

“To travel to Dalum Monastery, you mean?”

“No. The royal children are now at Frederiksborg where they’ll be staying for some time.”

“Oh, are they? I didn’t know that. Tomorrow I must find out what’s happening.”

“Yes, please do! And please tell me as well. Good night, my dear friend.”

Cecilie’s gaze followed his tall confident figure as he walked off down the corridor. She thought that he moved gracefully, like a Knight of the Holy Grail and as she continued to watch him, she recalled that Paladin was another name by which the Knights of the Grail were known. So he truly did bear his name with dignity – and yet there was that other ugly incomprehensible flaw that took the shine off this otherwise perfect nobleman. As she closed the door behind her, she reflected sadly how strange life could be. It wasn’t until she was settled in her room that she realised she’d forgotten to ask him why there were so many troops gathered outside the castle.

***

The very next day she heard the rumours about Alexander. She discovered that his position was very uncertain, and it was only the support of the King and his excellent ability as an officer that had saved him from terrible disgrace. There was talk of a court martial or trial but she was unable to find out the details. She was now deeply concerned for his sake because, in spite of everything, she realised that she shared a very deep and heartfelt affinity with him.

Cecilie hadn’t been back in Copenhagen for more than a few days before she suffered an even worse shock. This time she discovered that she was going to face up to an earth-shattering dilemma – the consequences of her fleeting encounter with Martinius, the vicar.

The day when Cecilie discovered that she was pregnant was the worst of Cecilie’s young life. At first, she was petrified. Then she reeled quickly back and forth between panic and hope. She felt all the wrenching emotions and upset that every young woman since the dawn of time has ever felt after an impulsive act of love. She wrung her hands so hard and so frequently that her arms ached. Then she laughed nervously and hysterically over and over again, telling herself it wasn’t possible – and anyway, she couldn’t be sure for several weeks at least.

Then came the fury. For a long time, she cursed the young vicar from the depths of the ocean to the heights of heaven, calling him by all the worst, most insulting names she could think of. Eventually, when exhausted, she admitted reluctantly to herself that she’d been equally at fault. She hadn’t exactly tried to resist his advances, had she?

But who could she turn to for good advice? Fortunately, not much time had passed. It was only fourteen days earlier that she’d met Martin in the potting shed in the churchyard, so she could be absolutely certain of the time.

Although she couldn’t be absolutely sure of her condition, Cecilie had enough intuition to suspect that this was very serious.

While she was waiting to leave Copenhagen, she’d been asked to finish embroidering a dress for Anna Katrine, the King’s daughter, by Kirsten Munk. But she didn’t manage to sew on many beads. The patterns floated together in a muddle before her eyes and all the while she imagined fearful pictures of the future, seeing herself with a child nobody would accept, eased out and condemned, punished in some way she couldn’t imagine.

Sighing repeatedly, she tried again and again without much success to concentrate on the beaded embroidery.

In three days’ time, she knew that a carriage would take her to Frederiksborg. What was she to do until then? There would be no compassion shown to her if her condition became known. The best she could hope for would be expulsion from Court. But should fate be really unkind, she knew the pillory could await her – and after that nothing but a life of shame.

Cecilie had become aware of her condition that morning. When she got up she’d felt suddenly light-headed and had vomited. But it wasn’t only that which disturbed her. A week earlier she’d expected her monthly period to begin but it still hadn’t happened – and this was otherwise always on time without any exception. As a result, every single minute of that day her mind had been in turmoil.

She’d considered but subsequently rejected many extraordinary ideas. Of course, she knew there were many different ways to drive out an unwanted child from the womb: you could work like a woman possessed, dance a jig until you were almost dead from fatigue, lift heavy loads until your spine was about to break, go to see a wise woman or take different potions. The list was endless. But Cecilie knew in her heart that she’d not been brought up to take life.

By evening she’d made her decision although it hardly helped calm her fears. If only she had more time to prepare, she thought. If only time hadn’t been so important. She really couldn’t afford to waste one day. Although she was still almost scared out of her wits, she’d made up her mind and made her way discreetly to Alexander Paladin’s quarters.

“Mr. Paladin’s not at home,” said his servant, and Cecilie’s courage began to ebb. “He’s in the barrack wing.”

“Ah, so when will I be able to see him?”

“I don’t know. He has so much to attend to at present. His Majesty, the King, is arming for war against the Catholics. A great many troops are getting ready.”

At that moment, Cecilie had no interest at all in the wars of nations. She knew nothing about the press-gangs rampaging through Norway, for she’d left Graastensholm before they arrived and unaware of the fate of her own cousins. All that was on her mind was her immediate problem. Only a short time ago she’d been dreading this visit, but now she was very anxious to meet Alexander and the delay irritated her.

“Oh, what am I to do?” she half whispered, her face pale and drawn. “It’s about an urgent matter! Time’s so short!”

The servant wavered, then said: “Please come in and I’ll try to send a message to Mr. Paladin.”

Cecilie considered the alternative: the pillory perhaps? This wasn’t a proposition she relished. “Yes, please do send a message,” she told him and stepped through the doorway. As she followed the servant, she put her hand on his arm and he stopped instantly: “Tell me,” she said tentatively. “I’ve heard some awful rumours. Is our good friend, Mr. Paladin, in trouble?”

The servant’s expression hardened, but because he was aware of Cecilie’s closeness to Alexander, he understood her kindness and saw the warmth and worry in her eyes.

“Indeed he is. The truth is that his situation is extremely serious – a matter of only a few days at the most. Then it’ll be the end.”

Cecilie nodded. “A court-martial?”

“Yes.”

No more needed to be said and a moment later the servant showed her into the elegant drawing room and disappeared. Although what he’d told her had made her undertaking easier, Cecilie felt no sense of triumph. She had to wait for a long time, which did nothing to calm her nerves. Her hands felt cold and clammy, and she paced the floor continually, examining every last detail of the room.

It was so exquisitely furnished. Here were heirlooms of the highest quality including decorated Renaissance chairs, a map of the world that she couldn’t really understand and beautifully bound books. Alexander Paladin must be very rich, she thought. But could his great wealth help him now?

Cecilie had been looking at a portrait that hung on the wall and was surprised when at last she heard his hurried steps in the hallway. The blood rushed to her cheeks and clenching her hands tightly she turned to face the door. Her eyes were wide with apprehension. This was the moment and she knew she had to choose her words carefully.

Pulling the door open without ceremony, Alexander entered the room in a rush. His expression was grim.

“What is it, Cecilie? The messenger said it was a very urgent matter – I was in a meeting with the King’s Council.”

The apprehension she was feeling had made her even more tense. “Are you in a hurry to return to the meeting?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Can you spare me half an hour?”

He hesitated. “Less, if at all possible. The Council doesn’t suffer interruptions gladly.”

“Forgive me,” she said, her eyes downcast. “I’ll try to be brief, but it’s not something I can explain in a few minutes. I really need several days.”

“Do sit down,” he said. His tone was gentler now. He sat down facing her. “You’re clearly in difficulties. What’s happened?”

She thought how handsome he was with his fine aristocratic features and eyes that always seemed to be beckoning her. All these things had no meaning now, she reminded herself – it was time for other things to be said. Although she’d carefully rehearsed everything she was about to say, she found that words were failing her.

“Alexander,” she began haltingly, then stopped again. “Alexander – if I were to propose something I’d not want you to think that I sought to hurt or offend you ...”

He raised his eyebrows in puzzlement but said nothing.

“Please don’t think ... I’m intending ... blackmail!” she stammered. “Or anything like that – I know that you’re in trouble but I’ll support you. You mustn’t forget that.”

He waited, still saying nothing and she sensed the distance growing between them. She stared at him helplessly for another long moment, then blurted out: “I’m in desperate need of your help, Alexander!”

He looked at her warily. “Has it to do with money?”

“No! No! But I believe I can help you, too – I believe we can both help each other!”

Cecilie realised that this wasn’t going at all well. She’d seen his shoulders stiffen at her last outburst and she sat twisting her fingers nervously, squeezing them so tightly that they hurt.

All the time her heart was pounding loudly inside her chest and she felt sure he must be able to hear it.

“I know that you’re in trouble but I know nothing of the particulars. Yet ...”

She broke off again, realising that in her desperation she was repeating herself.

“Please excuse me, I know I’ve already said that.”

“Go on,” Alexander said tightly. “You need my help, but in what way?”

Cecilie gulped. “There’s no other way to say this. While I was at home over Christmas, I did something terrible and foolish – an unforgivable act of stupidity which I can’t forgive myself for, let alone explain. This morning I discovered that I’m pregnant.”

Alexander gave an astonished gasp and stared at her. He was speechless.

“It’s something that occurred very recently,” she assured him quickly. “Not more than two weeks ago. But I’ve also discovered that you risk losing your commission - and maybe your head as well – because of your ... weakness. It seems that something’s happened while I’ve been away.”

Alexander said nothing for a long moment.

“Yes,” he replied at last in a strangled voice as he got to his feet. It was obvious that he couldn’t bear to look her straight in the eye and he turned away before continuing. “Do you remember young Hans?”

“Yes.”

“He left me for another.”

It was so strange to hear him speak like that. It was exactly the same as describing any normal tale of heartbreak between a man and a woman. She struggled to understand while images whirled in her mind until Alexander’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“They were both caught in the act, and Hans had told the other man about me, who’s spoken on oath at his trial.”

Cecile could feel his pain. “And what of Hans?”

“He’s very loyal and denies it, and I’m very grateful to him for that. But no one believes him, and this puts me in a horrifying position, Cecilie.”

He’d turned to face her again while he was speaking. As he sat down once more, he felt able to look at her now that he’d told her almost everything.

“The case will be heard in a few days’ time, and I’ll be asked to explain myself there. I’ll have to swear an oath on the Bible. I’m a devout man, Cecilie, I can’t perjure myself. That would be out of the question.”

“So the King can’t save you?”

“He’s taken me at my word – for the time being. If he were to discover that I’ve lied to him, then I’m finished.”

Cecilie nodded. She was lost for words because she knew exactly what such disgrace and humiliation would mean to a nobleman like Alexander. He’d be left to the mercy of the seething crowds, threatened with flogging in the streets, abandoned by his peers.

“Who was he?” Alexander asked softly.

Suddenly he’d made her predicament the focus of attention. It took her a bit by surprise because she’d briefly forgotten all about it. Even so, his glimmer of interest warmed her heart.

She avoided his eyes, disgusted with herself and what she’d done.

“A good friend of the family,” she replied. “A vicar in an extremely unhappy marriage – starved of human kindness. The whole episode was so shabby! So unnecessary!”

“But why, Cecilie?”

“If only I knew! At the time I couldn’t hold back!”

Alexander smiled, thin-lipped but still amused. “You’ve got a strange way of expressing yourself, dear Cecilie, but I understand what you mean. Sometimes such things are so very compelling.”

He looked at her inquisitively for some time before adding: “You’ll understand that I want to know more about this man’s character. Is he intelligent?”

“Oh, absolutely! And he has a fine and noble manner. He was the victim of impossible circumstances, with a wife who refused him any intimacy. I, on the contrary, can only blame myself.”

“Is he very different from me?”

“No! Oh no, not at all. Quite the opposite,” she said fervently. “No one would question that...” Cecilie stopped speaking suddenly in confusion, the colour mounting rapidly to her cheeks.

Alexander bit on his knuckles. “I think I’m beginning to see what’s on your mind, but are you sure that this is what you want?”

“I wouldn’t have come here otherwise. It wasn’t an easy decision, believe me!”

“I do believe you. But you have only been thinking about this since this morning, isn’t that so?”

“Time is very important. You must see that.”

“Of course I do. But there’s one thing that bothers me.”

“And that is ...?”

“What made you give yourself to him?”

“Why does that bother you?”

“Don’t you see it, Cecilie? Think about it!”

He understood – he’d recognised the similarities between himself and Martin!

She sat up straight. “I’ll admit there was a time when your indifference both confused and saddened me. But you must understand that all feelings and desires I may have had for you were swiftly quashed – left cold as the grave – when Tarjei told me about your ... behaviour.”

“And even so, you gave yourself to a man who reminded you of me?”

“Let’s say that it was the last flickering of the flame, a flame extinguished by that perverse act. I’m healed, Alexander, and I’m strong. I won’t be a burden to you. You can live your life and I mine.”

“That wouldn’t do you justice. You’re young and ...”

His obvious reticence became too much for Cecilie. Fear and shame were tearing at her very soul, and she stood up abruptly.

“Forgive me,” she muttered. “Please ignore my lack of forethought!” She hurried towards the door but he was ahead of her. His hands grasped her arms in a vice-like grip and his fiery eyes stared into hers.

“Please, Cecilie, you mustn’t feel humiliated! Never – not you! You’re so dear to me! I welcome your offer with open arms. Can’t you see how I must clutch at any straw? Your words have given me such hope in my hour of desperation. But you’re the one I’m concerned about, my dearest friend. You don’t know what you’re asking of yourself.”

“What other choice do I have?”

“None, that’s true. Please forgive my hesitation a moment ago. I know it must have hurt you. Let me spare you the further indignity of asking for my help by saying something you haven’t, but which must be said. You must know that you’ll never have my love ... not ever. A marriage between us will never be consummated.”

“I realise that. I can live without it.”

He looked at her thoughtfully. “Can you? It’s a great sacrifice. Greater than you might think.”

“My aversion to physical love started fourteen days ago and believe me, I think it will remain with me for many years to come!”

Alexander was nodding absentmindedly, and although he was watching her, his thoughts were obviously far away. Realising this, Cecilie stood in silence, running her long thin fingers to and fro along the backs of her gloved hands. She wondered what she’d do if Alexander refused to take pity on her.

Of course, she could return to Norway. But she would bring shame upon her kind, warm-hearted parents. She was, after all was said and done, the notary’s daughter. Yes, they would be sure to forgive her and accept the child just as they’d once taken back Sol and her little daughter, Sunniva. But could the family name withstand any more scandals?

Grandmother Charlotte had been the first to come home with a “stray” in her arms. That had been Cecilie’s own father, Dag. Later Sol had brought Sunniva to them. Now it might be Cecilie with her bundle of misfortune. But although it might have become something of a family tradition, it seemed hardly right for her to place another heavy burden on her parents, however broadminded they might be.

Yet far worse than anything else was the thought of returning to the parish of Graastensholm to where the married vicar, Martinius, lived. She never wanted to see him again. Never! He was a kind and friendly person in every way but the sin they’d committed together, driven solely by loneliness and nothing else, now forced them apart. Like drops of water on a red-hot iron, they skimmed in every possible direction, always away from each other. And besides, if Martin’s adultery became known, she’d certainly lose her head on the block – and so might he. Her bleak reflections were leading her spirits in a downwards spiral towards new depths of despair, but she was jerked back to the present by the sudden sound of Alexander’s voice.

“Before anything is agreed, dear Cecilie, how had you thought of arranging this – between you and me?”

“The practical details? Is that what you mean?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve given it some thought,” she said hurriedly. “If it’s at all possible, I thought we should each have our own bedroom – next to one another so that no suspicions could arise. But the rooms would remain private, each to his own. There’s nothing out of the ordinary in that, is there?”

“No, not at all,” he replied, waiting for her to continue.

“There’s just one thing I must ask of you. I understand that you can’t change your personality. But would you please show the courtesy of not taking your friends to your bedroom? Maybe another room – further away – could be used?”

How did she dare speak so freely? Cecilie had taken herself by surprise, but she had to set down clear boundaries and that meant trying to hide her reluctance to talk about the subject. Alexander frowned, obviously giving deep thought to what she’d just said.

“These are reasonable terms,” he agreed, nodding slowly. “The only difference is that you ask that I exercise greater discretion than before. And I certainly need to be more careful for my own sake – despite the fact that Hans was the wayward one in this instance. He didn’t care whether anyone saw him or not.”

As he finished speaking, a pained expression returned to Alexander’s face, and once again the bond he had with the other man took her aback. For Alexander it seemed so filled with – love! There was no other word. Despite herself she couldn’t help but feel a little moved.

“However, we can’t begin to live as you suggest in my rooms here. My family has a manor, Gabrielshus, some distance from Copenhagen – not far from Frederiksborg, as it happens. We’ll move there.”

“But won’t that be too much trouble for you?” she interrupted.

“No! No, not at all – I’ll be pleased and delighted. Besides, you know how I’ve always found pleasure simply in looking at you. Your beauty is rare, with a mystical quality – your dreamy, almond-shaped eyes, skin so pure, and auburn hair. Everything about you fascinates me.”

There was a considered pause, then: “Now, you’re giving me the freedom to meet other ... friends. But how will it be with you?”

“Do you mean that you’re asking for my discretion if I were to mix with other men behind your back? Or are you asking me to be absolutely faithful to you?”

“I’ve no right to ask you to remain celibate when you’ve shown me such ... generosity.”

“So you’re asking me to be discreet and that I choose my friends with care?”

He nodded, his face tense.

Cecilie smiled. “I’ve already told you! I’ll not cross the line. But should such a thing ever occur, and I’m attracted to another man, let’s discuss it then. I believe we owe each other that much honesty. All I’ll say is that, for now, I’ve had enough of men and their affections.”

Alexander took a deep breath. He seemed quite touched by it all.

“Oh, well! Tell me, Cecilie Meiden, small, tough unusual girl that you are ... Do you really want to marry me in spite of all the difficulties?”

Her lips trembled slightly.

“Yes, Alexander, I do – so very much! This will be a marriage of reason. There are a good many such marriages and many of them are very happy. Thank you.”

Alexander took her hands in his. “Considering the hopelessness of our dilemmas and the conditions we’ve set for ourselves, I think you and I have every probability of becoming truly happy. And, of course, I’ll probably be off to war very soon.”

“Oh, no!” Cecilie exclaimed loudly. “Surely not!”

“You are lovely when you’re startled, Cecilie. Nevertheless, you must understand that for me to fall in battle would be the perfect outcome for you.”

Her gaze hardened. She was glaring at him. “That was the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me! I never thought you could be so unkind.”

“No, no, my little powder keg! I wasn’t mocking you. It was simply an observation.”

“You know perfectly well that I love you an awful lot ... as a friend. And I don’t want that friend taken away from me.”

Her words seemed to raise his spirits. “I do plan to return,” he replied with a certain irony.

She smiled with relief. Suddenly she remembered the time.

“But Alexander! Your meeting! You could spare only half an hour!”

“Oh, forget about the King’s Council ... this is far more important! You’re right though, I should leave now, but I’ll see you later on.”

Cecilie, her eyes closed, stood alone for a while. She breathed a long slow sigh before whispering very quietly to herself. “Thank you, Lord.”

She was still not sure whether this marriage was a good solution to her problems. It wasn’t perfect in any way. But considering the muddle she’d got herself into and the problems Alexander was facing, nothing could be perfect.

Chapter 2

After he’d left Cecilie, Alexander Paladin joined the gentlemen of the King’s Council. He couldn’t help noticing that they were most annoyed at his long absence. While he’d been away, King Christian IV himself had arrived in the chamber and when he saw this, Alexander decided to take the bull by the horns and turned directly to address the King.

“Your Majesty: May I kindly request an audience when this Council is adjourned?” he asked, making a formal bow.

“Granted,” answered the King as he inclined his head slightly, giving his troubled cavalier an inquisitive look.

The Council of War resumed its deliberations and the King listened patiently to all the varying shades of opinion that were expressed by its members. He was very keen to intervene in the growing war between Catholics and Protestants in Germany and made no secret of the fact that he was looking for supporters in this. Something approaching a consensus for this policy seemed to be in the offing but the meeting stopped short of an outright final approval of the move. The King clearly felt that he’d almost reached the objective he sought and had gained sufficient support for the interim measures he wished to take. As soon as the discussions had finished, he asked Alexander Paladin to join him in an anteroom.

“So please tell me, Marquis Alexander, what’s on your mind?” They were both fully aware that Alexander’s life depended on the outcome of the trial in four days’ time. The King clearly understood that the request for an audience was directly linked to this matter.

“Your Majesty,” Alexander said awkwardly, “I’m to begin a preparatory march with my troops to Holstein within this week. With so little time at my disposal, I’m asking Your Majesty’s permission to marry at once. Tomorrow perhaps if arrangements can be made.”

The King’s eyebrows had risen skyward and for a fleeting moment his expression was one of utter astonishment. Then, with a visible effort, His Majesty regained his composure. “And whom do you intend to marry?” he asked slowly.

“Baroness Cecilie Meiden.”

A flicker of amusement appeared in the King’s eyes. “Of course! My wife’s Norwegian lady-in-waiting, or I should say, our children’s governess. I’ve noticed that she’s a delightful girl – and talented! Her maternal grandfather was none other than the legendary Tengel whose hands had the power to heal. We never met him but our people in Norway couldn’t praise him more highly. But what’s the noble rank of this family? Meidens – ah yes! There have been several examples of this kind in legion within the family. You’ve enjoyed the company of Miss Meiden for some time, haven’t you?”

“Since first she came to Court, Your Majesty. Yes, it’s been four or five years now.”