Читать книгу The Ice People 31 - The Ferryman - Margit Sandemo - Страница 6

Chapter 1

The long ... long ... sleep.

Deep down under the ground, and far far away from where the Ice People lived in the north, Tengel the Evil opened his age-old eyes.

He did it slowly, because it was very difficult to raise eyelids that were heavy with age and covered in grey dust.

With a great effort he finally managed to open them. The two yellow slits that were his eyes weren’t actually able to see anything other than the darkness surrounding him. But Tengel the Evil didn’t need light. He could see without it. Far far away.

His centuries’ long sleep had not been uninterrupted, nor had it been equally deep the whole time. Every now and then it had been disturbed. Sometimes by his descendants trying to locate his buried water jar in the Valley of the Ice People. At those times he had needed to focus all his energy on defending the sacred treasure. He couldn’t move, and the valley made his brain feel sluggish as well, so his deadly menace didn’t have much of an effect. Even so, he had been able to transfer a projection of himself into the valley and make it work there.

He had used a projection of himself there many times to scare off intruders.

The most dangerous time had been when Heike and Tula went there. When Heike, one of the most powerful descendants of Tengel the Evil and one who had turned against him, had threatened him by reciting incantations from the earliest days of the Ice People. It had been a very trying moment, which had really put his stamina to the test. And things got even worse when Tula, that confounded girl, set those four demons on him.

What a horrifying memory!

After that ordeal Tengel the Evil had had to rest for a long time in a deep slumber in order to recover fully.

But there had also been good moments!

His dreadful eyes shifted back and forth; slowly and laboriously his yellow-grey gaze searched in the darkness, seeking through his memories for more pleasant events.

Not all his descendants who were stricken were quite hopeless (here Tengel the Evil thought with especial loathing of Tengel the Good, who had managed to reverse the curse so that his miserable descendants took up the battle against him, their great ancestor).

But there had been some episodes that had given him great pleasure. Like the beautiful man of long ago who chopped off the head of his wife. Or Kolgrim, except for the fact that he didn’t manage to accomplish very much – except, of course, for killing the dangerous Tarjei, though of course in that instance Tengel the Evil had been able to control his actions. Sölve had been a good man for Tengel the Evil. And Ulvar! He had probably been the most promising of them all. Because the sanctimonious members of the Ice People had managed to ruin Ulvhedin! But Ulvar had been acceptable!

The flutes! Every time a descendant had managed to find a magically tuned flute, Tengel the Evil had grown in strength. Tula had found one, but that confounded pack of deceased relatives had quickly prevented her from continuing to use it. But the little that she had managed to play on it had done him good. It had made him feel more awake. So awake that he had been able to start opening his eyes. At first it had only been a flicker, but now he had finally managed to open them fully.

He blinked the narrow slits of his eyes just once to check, and even that insignificant movement sent a stinging cloud of ash-grey dust into the surrounding air.

Tula’s unfinished flute playing had awoken Tengel enough to be able to lead one of his wretched descendants to Eldafjord, where his own flute was, the one he had managed to lose so ignominiously.

Eldafjord ... Eskil’s journey there. Tengel had been just on the verge of waking then. Woken by Heike himself, one of his deadliest enemies. Deep within his black soul Tengel chuckled maliciously just at the thought of it.

But then she had come. The horrible woman! The abominable one! Tengel squirmed with loathing at the mere thought. The one who had managed to get hold of the pure water.

Shira, his mortal enemy.

And the flute, his precious flute: she had destroyed it forever.

The memory cut him like a knife.

No, he would no longer think of the shame and humiliation he had had to endure.

He was rejoicing within his soul once again. A new descendant had arrived. Ulvar had been a true disciple of Tengel the Evil. He had found an unfinished flute – guided by Tengel’s directions, of course – and that knowledge alone had given Tengel the Evil greater strength.

But now that flute had also been destroyed.

And Tengel didn’t know of any others. That wretched flock, to think they were his very own blood! And all the time he had been lying here, spellbound, he had had to keep an eye on them to make sure they didn’t ruin his plans.

But right now they were weak. They had only one who was stricken among them, a girl, and she was worth nothing. Her name was Benedikte, as far as he recalled. Oh, he knew almost everything about the Ice People! For he had been granted eternal life by the malicious black source – as well as power over humanity. He didn’t possess the power fully just yet, paralysed and lethargic as he was. But from his secret resting place he was able to follow the fates of the Ice People, especially the fates of those who were stricken. And all the evil of the world was transmitted to him through the earth and air, through fire and water and stone – the five elements of the ancient tribe of the Ice People. For when he had sought out the source of life and drunk from the water of evil, the elements had become his slaves as well, the means by which he could attain knowledge. He had once ruled the entire world ... He bitterly regretted and fretted over the whim that had led him to go into hibernation back then! And then he had been betrayed! By his very own! He had regretted it hundreds of times since then, and had been enraged by it many more, but to no avail. He was spellbound and he would remain so until another flute was found, whether it was a magical one or one that played out of tune didn’t matter, as long as it was possible to play his signal on it.

That wasn’t difficult for him. The flutes had strengthened his ability to see things from afar. It was only his body that was still weak and imprisoned. But it meant that his lethal occult power couldn’t be used to the full: until now it had merely been a weak foreshadowing of what was to come.

Well, even if this Benedikte was worthless, he still needed to keep a watchful eye on her. For she was one of them. One of the faithless who were trying to defeat him. Not that she could do any harm, but if she were to receive help ...

No, he must be on his utmost guard even with her, the foolish child.

What if he were to lure her along a path that would lead to her destruction?

Yes, that was certainly something he could manage from his confounded prison.

But it would have to take place in secrecy. Tengel the Evil’s eyes fluttered in the dark. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Somewhere out there ... somewhere there was another danger. Shira wasn’t the only one. He didn’t know what the other possible danger was. It was invisible, hidden from him. But Tengel the Evil knew that it was strong, very strong!

That was why the annihilation of the girl had to be achieved in secrecy. Where the dangerous thing couldn’t find her and rescue her.

His thoughts were busy, his senses searching for something, stretching their long twining tentacles across the world, reaching out to the countries in the north ...

Suddenly a memory came to him.

Yes, he knew of a place far away from human civilization. A wonderfully evil place. He knew about it because he himself had been there in the course of his journey to the south.

That place had been dedicated to evil. He had liked being there and had stayed there for some time.

He had interfered with the history of the place.

It had been a splendid time.

He remembered one ... Tengel collected his thoughts, made an effort to remember ...Yes! A ferryman! That was exactly it!

Once again he chuckled, a malicious, inaudible inner laugh. The ferryman – yes, now it was all coming back to him!

It had been fun collaborating with that man. Tengel wondered how things had turned out since he had abandoned the place. It would be interesting to know.

Even before his arrival there, the place had already been so defiled, so infested with a wonderfully horrendous presence and by events so evil that a shudder of joy ran through him – no matter what he himself may have contributed to the place, it was undoubtedly the perfect spot for eliminating Benedikte.

His powerful mind control would lead her there.

But it would have to be achieved covertly, because doing it directly was completely out of the question now. How would he manage it?

Like a spider, he started to weave his long, wicked schemes – a true pleasure for the most malicious creature in the world, the evil incarnate himself.