The Successor by Margit Sandemo

Author:Margit Sandemo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jentas A/S
Published: 2019-09-12T08:21:09+00:00

***

Yrja often went to the churchyard with a small bunch of wild flowers. She liked to sit close to Silje’s resting-place – close to the only person who’d known the bitter secret in her heart. On one particular day, she found Tarald there, standing not far from Sunniva’s grave in conversation with Martinius. Unsure if she should go on, Yrja stopped, but they waved her over to them and she walked across, hoping that she wouldn’t blush too much.

“Come, Miss Yrja.” The vicar’s voice was friendly. “We were just talking about the plague – and how you did so much to help stop it.”

“Oh, that,” she said, trying to hide her shyness. “Yes, it was a terrible time! Do you remember, Martinius, when we each had a corner of that tiny cottage? We lay there helpless, taking it in turns to run for the bucket so that we didn’t bump into each other – or shouldn’t I have mentioned that?”

The vicar laughed. “In such circumstances one must leave convention behind. We did so once, Tarald – collide I mean. It was awfully embarrassing but I gave way, gentleman that I am.”

“And waited?” asked Tarald.

“Wait? Tarald, when one has the blood pestilence in the body, one doesn’t wait! But I had a change of clothes with me.”

Yrja smothered a smile. “It’s easy to laugh about it so long afterwards. But while I was suffering ... Oh, my God, I was so scared!”

“Me, too. I’m so grateful to Tengel and young Tarjei for saving us.”

“Yes – but it was so embarrassing those last days when we had no strength to leave our beds and Tengel had to change our bed linen and clothes. I was so ashamed I could have died.”

“I thought you’d say that you were saved by The Almightly Lord, Martinius,” Tarald said aggressively.

Martinius shook his head.

“Why should he have saved Yrja and me, yet strike down so many others in the parish? Are we so much better than they?”

“That’s a sensible point of view,” said Tarald, ”and an unusual one for a man of God.”

“But I’ll readily admit that I prayed to God to save my life – as I prayed for the lives and the souls of everyone.”

Tarald nodded. “That’s only natural. Now tell me, Martinius, if you will, how it feels to be married?”

The vicar turned away. “Mmm, yes,” he muttered as though uncertain what to say.

“It’s good news about your marriage,” said Yrja politely. “A good vicar’s wife is an asset for the parish as well as the vicar.”

“Yes!” said the vicar, with such hatred that they both looked at him in amazement. He seemed to be unaware that he’d even replied and simply stood before them, deep in thought. So much despair and anger showed on his handsome young face that the other two were momentarily at a loss for words. They’d met his young wife, a very pretty girl, and she seemed to perform her duties as the vicar’s wife with great diligence. She

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