The Ice People 12 - Yearning. Margit Sandemo

Gabriella asked in a worried tone of voice.

      “Yes. They’re waiting for me at Nørreport.”

      Finally the ship was ready for departure. Villemo stood on the quay and waved till she couldn’t see them any longer. Then she let her arm drop.

      She was alone in Copenhagen.

      Not long after she was shown into Colonel Crone at the Citadel. He was an elderly man with an unhealthy colour to his face and eyes, like a cocker spaniel. He regarded her with a tired expression as she spoke of her errand.

      “My dear Miss,” he drawled. “The man is the Swedish King’s courier. We can’t let him go.”

      “I understand that,” Villemo replied quietly. “But won’t you make an exception this time? I’ll pay what you ask for – without implying that you can be bought. The crux of the matter is that I’m desperate, you see. I have to help him, and am willing to do whatever it takes to get him back.”

      “At least you’re honest!”

      He got up and walked over to the window. With his back to her, he said, “No, I can’t be blackmailed. But I understand that the young man’s well-being is paramount to you. Did you say he was your cousin?”

      “Yes. He has a lot of Norwegian blood in his veins and is a decent man. Treason would be totally out of the question. So if you’ll let him go, the Swedish army won’t learn about it. Nor will he reveal anything about the Swedes to you.”

      “A man of honour so to speak?”

      “Absolutely.”

      “And you’re willing to do anything to have him set free from captivity?”

      “Most certainly, yes.”

      He was silent for a while. Then he turned around and looked her up and down, which made her cheeks blush.

      “Your cousin is free – on the condition that you’ll do me a favour.”

      She gasped for breath. She could hardly believe it. “Whatever you wish!”

      “Are you discreet?”

      “You can trust me unconditionally.”

      “Good.” He was silent once more.

      “What will my task be?” she asked cautiously.

      He found it difficult to get the words out. “I’m ... a lonely man and old as well. Female favour is no longer something I enjoy. Nevertheless, I need female company, if you see what I mean?”

      “Not quite, I’m afraid.”

      “I’m ... a connoisseur. I was an expert as far as female beauty is concerned, but now my frail health prevents me from courting beautiful women. You, Miss Elistrand, possess a rare beauty. Absolutely unique. Your cousin will be allowed to journey by boat at midnight if you will come to my house this evening and ... entertain me.”

      Villemo’s cheeks turned red. She had expected espionage, treason or something along those lines – but not this. She hadn’t expected it to be so personal, so intimate.

      She could hardly get the words out. “Sir, please. Sometime in the future, I intend to be untouched in the bridal bed.”

      He waved his hand impatiently. “I’ll allow you that. I won’t touch you.”

      “Then I’m not sure I’ve understood you?”

      “I just told you that I’m unable to enjoy a woman’s favour. All I want is to be able to see you, and that you grant me some innocent favours.”

      She was speechless. Horrified. All decency in her cried out for her to say no.

      “In my younger days, women would flock around me,” he explained in a tired voice. “My pleasure, my appetite, was enormous. Now I’m old and ugly – and my body has been damaged by my frivolous life. No woman wants to have anything to do with me any more. But my yearning is as great as ever. Will you, Miss Elistrand, make me happy tonight?”

      Villemo was just about to throw up. She stared at the colonel, her eyes wide from shock.

      “I assure you that you won’t be harmed.”

      ‘What about my self-respect,’ she thought? ‘What about that? How am I to be able to look other people in the eye? And what do you mean by innocent favours?’

      But then she thought of Dominic. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what would happen to him as a prisoner here. How long had Leonora Christina been held captive in the Blue Tower? Thirteen years. And Dominic? Was he to be held for just as long? Was his beautiful youth to be wasted, lost behind those walls in a foreign country?

      She was the one who could save him from such a fate. Suddenly the price seemed low. She breathed deeply in order to get rid of the lump in her throat.

      “It’s a deal,” she said awkwardly.

      Chapter 3

      Villemo was shown into Colonel Crone’s home two hours before midnight. Before that, she had had a meal and a bath at an inn and had made herself as neat and pretty as possible, combed her hair as best she could and used a drop of the expensive perfume, which her mother had given her for her last birthday.

      Her heart was beating as if she were a young girl on her way to the altar. Only this was something quite different and much worse.

      A discreet servant received her and took her to the colonel’s room. You would never guess that a soldier lived here if it hadn’t been for the bed. It was a huge canopy bed that stood out from the wall and was surrounded by velvet drapery so that you couldn’t see the bed itself.

      There was nobody in the room, which was in semi-darkness. Only a floor chandelier flickered faintly. She sent the servant a questioning glance.

      “My master’s order is that you must walk over to the bed ...”

      Villemo opened her mouth to protest. He stopped her with a movement. ”As my master has said, you have nothing to fear. You will be alone in there. I will leave the room now and then my master will come ... he will only look at you while you ...”

      She was filled with discomfort. “Look at me?”

      “Yes. I did not express myself correctly. He won’t be coming in. He will be looking at you from another room. He asks you to undress.”

      This didn’t take Villemo too much by surprise, but nevertheless the thought made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t possess Sol’s gift when it came to physical emancipation.

      “You must take off your clothes slowly. Sensuously and pleasurably.”

      “Well, my goodness,” she started. She was so nervous that she was shaking. Then she forced herself to take it easy. She had to think of Dominic ...

      ”Very well. I’ll do it. But your master mentioned something about some small ‘favours.’ What do they involve?”

      Imagine your teeth chattering in such a warm room. Never had she felt so ill at ease, she who had been observed in the barn. Only this was something different and much worse.

      “It’s nothing dangerous. All my master wants is a big lock of your beautiful hair afterwards. And your absolute discretion. You must never ever mention what has gone on here.”

      “Does this sort of thing happen often?”

      “Very rarely of late. Previously it would happen now and then. But never in my master’s younger years.”

      “I won’t say anything. It’s also in my own interest that this is kept secret. But if he keeps a lock of my hair ... then he can disclose me if it comes to that?”

      The servant straightened his back with dignity. “That would never happen. My master is a man of honour!”

      “Good.