I moved closer to Jonathan. He was sitting very still, leaning against the mountain wall, and his face was pale. He looked like a prince in a saga as he sat there, but a pale and exhausted prince. Poor Jonathan, you’re not happy either, I thought. Oh, if only I could make you a little happy.
As we were sitting there in silence, Jonathan suddenly said:
“Rusky, there’s something I must tell you.”
I was afraid at once, because when he said that, it was always something sad he had to tell.
“What must you tell me?” I said.
He stroked my cheek with his forefinger.
“Don’t be afraid, Rusky...but do you remember what Orvar said? I tiny lick of Katla’s fire is enough to paralyze or kill anyone—do you remember him saying that?”
“Yes, but why talk about that now?” I said.
“Because...” said Jonathan. “Because a little flame of Katla’s fire touched me as we were fleeing from her.”
My heart had been sick all day with sorrow and fear, but I hadn’t wept. Now tears came from me almost like a cry.
“Are you going to die again, Jonathan?” I cried. And Jonathan said:
“No. But that’s what I’d like to do. Because I’ll never be able to move again.”
He explained the cruelty of Katla’s fire to me. If it didn’t kill, it did something that was much worse. It destroyed something inside so that you were paralyzed. You did not notice it at first, but it crept up on you, slowly and inexorably.
“I can only move my arms now,” he said. “And soon I won’t be able to do that.”
“But don’t you think it’ll pass?” I said, weeping.
“No, Rusky, it’ll never pass,” said Jonathan. “Unless I can get to Nangilima.” Unless he could get to Nangilima. Oh, now I understood! He was thinking of leaving me alone again, I knew it! Once he had vanished to Nangiyala without me...
“But not again,” I cried. “Not without me! You mustn’t vanish to Nangilima without me!”
“Do you want to come with me, then?” he asked.
“Yes, what do you think?” I said. “Haven’t I told you that wherever you go, I’ll go to?”
“You’ve said that, and it’s a comfort to me,” said Jonathan. “But it’s difficult to get there.”
He sat silently for a while, and then he said:
“Do you remember that time when we jumped? That terrible time during the fire and we jumped down into the yard? I went to Nangiyala then, do you remember?”
“Of course I remember,” I said, weeping even more. “How can you ask? Do you think I haven’t remembered it every single moment since?”
“Yes, I know,” said Jonathan, stroking my cheek again.
And then he said:
“I thought perhaps we could jump again. Down the precipice here—down onto the meadow.”
“Well, then we’ll die,” I said. “But would we come to Nangilima then?”
“Yes, you can be sure of that,” said Jonathan. “As soon as we land we’ll see the light from Nangilima. We’ll see the morning light over Nangilima’s valleys, because it’s morning there now.”
“Ha-ha, we can jump straight into Nangilima,” I said, and I laughed for the first time in a long time.
“Yes, we can,” said Jonathan. “And as soon as we land, we’ll see the path to Apple Valley, too, right in front of us. And Grim and Fyalar are already there waiting for us. We would only have to mount and ride away.”
“And you wouldn’t be paralyzed then?” I said.
“No, I’ll be free of all evil and as happy as anything. And you too, Rusky, you’ll be happy too. The path to Apple Valley goes through the forest. What do you think it’ll feel like, riding there in the morning sun, you and I?”
“Good,” I said, and laughed again.
“And we’ll be in no hurry,” said Jonathan. “We can bathe in some small lake, if we want to. We’d still get to Mathias’s before he has the soup ready.”
“How glad he’ll be that we’ve come,” I said. But then I felt as if I had received a blow from a club. Grim and Fyalar—how could Jonathan think that we could take them with us to Nangilima?”
“How can you say that they’re already there waiting for us?” They’re lying asleep over there.”
“They are not sleeping, Rusky. They’re dead. From Katla’s fire. But what you see over there is only their shells. Believe me, Grim and Fyalar are already down on the path to Nangilima, waiting for us.”
“Let’s hurry then,” I said, “so that they don’t have to wait too long.”
Then Jonathan looked at me and smiled slightly.
“I can’t hurry at all,” he said. “I can’t move from the spot, don’t forget.”
And then I realized what I had to do.
“Jonathan, I’ll take you on my back,” I said. “You did that for me once. And now I’ll do it for you. That’s only fair.”
“Yes, that’s fair,” said Jonathan. “But do you think you dare, Rusky Lionheart?”
I went over to the precipice and looked down. It was already too dark and I could hardly see the meadow. But it was so far down that it made you gasp. If we jumped down there, then at least we’d be sure of getting to Nangilima, both of us. No one need stay behind alone and lie grieving and weeping and being afraid.
But it was not we who had to jump. It was I who was to do it. It was difficult to get to Nangilima, Jonathan had said, and now I knew why. How would I dare, how could I ever dare?
Well, if you don’t dare now, I thought, then you’re a little bit of filth and you’ll never be anything else but a little bit of filth.
I went back to Jonathan.
“Yes, I dare,” I said.
“Brave little Rusky,” he said. “Let’s do it then.”
“I want to sit here for a while with you first,” I said.
“Not too long,” said Jonathan.
“No, only until it’s quite dark,” I said “So that I see nothing.”
And I sat beside him and held his hand and felt that he was strong and good though and through and that nothing was really dangerous so long as he was there.
Then night and darkness fell over Nangiyala, over mountains and rivers and lands, and I stood by the precipice with Jonathan holding on to me hard with his arms around my neck, and I felt how he was breathing on my ear from behind. He was breathing quite calmly. Not like me—Jonathan, my brother, why am I not so brave as you?
I couldn’t see the precipice below me, but I knew that it was there, and I needed to take only one step out into the dark and it would all be over. It would go so quickly.
“Rusky Lionheart,” said Jonathan. “Are you afraid?
“No—yes, I’m afraid. But I’ll do it all the same, Jonathan, I’m doing it now—now—and then I’ll never be afraid again. Never again be afr—”
“Oh Nangilima! Yes, Jonathan, yes, I can see the light! I can see the light!”
The End
Astrid Lindgren, The Brothers Lionheart
(Series: # )
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