Read The Dedalus Book of Finnish Fantasy Page 3


  Thus in the early hours, just before dawn, their journey took them to the wolds of Kõpu, to the heart of the ancient spruce forests, where man’s axe had never struck and where age-old lichen-covered trees hid the mossy forest floor beneath their dark shadows.

  The wind rustled through the treetops, sighed a great sigh, then died down once again.

  At that moment the wolf with whom Aalo had been galloping suddenly changed his form.

  Through the forest there gusted a mighty wind, living and breathing, as if an enormous lung had sighed, and all the wilds shuddered to the thud of unseen footsteps and a pair of great wings, whose span no mortal has ever measured, which more than the tops of the ancient trees shrouded the forest in a clandestine darkness.

  For this wolf was Diabolus sylvarum, the Spirit of the Forest, though he only chose to reveal his true form now.

  And upon this such a bliss came over Aalo as has no bounds and her soul was filled with an overwhelming joy, such as cannot be described in human tongues, for nothing can compare to the wonder and wealth of her elation, a fountain for those who thirst. For at that moment she was one with the Spirit of the Forest, that potent dæmon who in the shape of a wolf had chosen and claimed her for his own, and thus all boundaries fell between them and they became one, like two drops of dew which, once thus conjoined, cannot be put asunder.

  And Aalo evaporated into the hum of the forest spruces, she oozed as a golden resin from the red trunks of the pines, she disappeared with the green dew upon the moss, for now she belonged to Diabolus sylvarum and had fallen prey to the Devil.

  But when Aalo next awoke, she realised that she was resting upon the side of a large rock close to their cottage in Pühalepa, and beside her lay the wolf skin. As the sun rose from its short repost that summer’s night, Aalo quickly hid the skin in a hollow in the rocks and hurried home to her bed before anyone could notice that she had ever been gone.

  Chapter Seven

  And from this night forth Aalo was the daughter of damnation and in league with the Devil, and like the witches of Blocksberg she began to run as a werewolf, for now it was as though she had two lives: one as a wolf and one as a human.

  (If any man of a doubtful disposition should question whether these events are possible, may he read for his enlightenment what the philosophus Pomponatius has written and published, or the works of Theophrastus Bombastus Paracelsus and Thomas Aquinas, or indeed what the Council of Ancyra Anno 381 proclaims in a treatise, which begins with the words: Quisquis ergo aliquid credit posse fieri …)1

  Thus during the hours of daylight she remained in her former human body, and no one noticed anything amiss in her appearance, though she was perhaps paler than before and there was less expression in her eyes, as if she were staring into secret, forbidden depths. And when in the evenings she took off her headdress her hair seemed ablaze with an even ruddier glow than before, like fire raging upon pine logs.

  But in no way did she neglect a single one of her chores, but took care of everything like the dutiful housewife she once was, from the first chores of the morning to the last of the evening. And so she milked the cows, ground the handmill, suckled her child upon her breast and hoed and ploughed the fields as did all the other women of Hiidensaari. Indeed, it appeared that she was twice as diligent in everything she did, her hands and feet twice as nimble and her words to her husband Priidik all the sweeter. And many a man who saw her skipping back and forth across the garden to the well, like a bobbin between the threads of the loom, thought in his heart what a lucky fellow was he who could call this fond and fair woman his wife.

  But when night came and Priidik had drifted into the heavy, weary sleep of a woodsman, so began his wife Aalo’s other life, which during the day was carefully hidden, just as bats and moths awake from their slumber at night and nocturnal flowers begin to blossom for the night alone.

  And this was the life she led at night, for it was of the night, of darkness and of the Devil.

  For no sooner had Aalo noticed her husband Priidik drifting into sleep than she could feel her wolf’s instincts bubbling in her blood, as if her other nature, by day suppressed deep within her, at night awoke and overwhelmed her with its potency.

  For she, who once had been meek and mild, was now bold and blood-thirsty; she, who once had been timid, was now untamed; she, who once had been chaste, was now brimming with lust.

  And now every night Aalo, wedded wife of Priidik, surrendered herself wholly to her new lupine nature, and as her husband slept soundly she leapt from their marital bed and ran through the forests as a werewolf.

  Then, as upon Midsummer’s Eve, she willingly took part in the wolves’ nocturnal journeys, and there was no bloody deed as would have appalled her nature, no Devil’s dance in which she would not have whirled like a flake of snow blown by a gust of dæmon’s breath.

  At night the Spirit of the Wolf and of the Forest was wild within her and she was ready to do whatsoever Diabolus sylvarum commanded her to do, be it robbery or murder, or even blasphemy against the Almighty.

  For now she belonged to Diabolus sylvarum in a strange and secret way, with all her body, with all her soul, as strongly as if she had entered a blood union with him.

  Yet although Aalo celebrated the witches’ Sabbath and ran through the forests as a wild beast each and every night, at first no one so much as noticed she was gone, for before the crow of the cock each morning she had returned and was lying beside her husband Priidik. Neither did any of the villagers realise that she had any part in the disappearance of kids and lambs, for they blamed the real wolves.

  But if the Lord in His forbearance now and then allows Satan and his henchmen to run wild, in time He will nonetheless clench His fist around their tether once again and pull with all His might.

  And it so happened that one morning the innkeeper from Haavasuo stopped by the cottage of Priidik the woodsman and as they exchanged words of greeting he said:

  ‘My finest ewe is lost once again, for last night it was savaged by that forest cur.’

  Thus Priidik the woodsman asked:

  ‘Tell me, dear man, how has such a dreadful deed come to pass?’

  And to this the innkeeper replied:

  ‘Last night, when I heard bleating coming from the paddock, I went outside to look and saw that beast amongst the lambs. So I quickly looked for my musket and aimed it at the fearsome foe, and perchance I struck it in the foot, but alas the beast had already caught a lamb for itself and leapt limping into the forest.’

  But barely had these words left his lips than Aalo, wedded wife of Priidik the woodsman, entered the cottage carrying a pail of water limping on her left ankle, which was bloody.

  At this the innkeeper from Haavasuo fixed his eyes upon Aalo’s ankle and said:

  ‘Of course, it could also have been a werewolf, for nothing can dispatch them but a silver bullet or elder heartwood. I fear the spread of werewolves has already reached Hiidenmaa, for Valber from the village at Tempa was found to have run as a werewolf and has been delivered into the hands of the gaoler and the executioner.’

  And he spoke further, as he continued to stare at Aalo and her ankle:

  ‘Only this morning did Valber float in water as light as a goose or a reed, even though both her hands and feet were tied and crossed, and only when the local executioner began using the thumbscrew did she confess to running as a were-wolf and visiting Blocksberg. A black man approached her in the forest, she said, first in the form of a haystack, then clothed in fine attire, as she sat binding brooms, and he offered her some sweet roots to eat; at first this tasted as sweet as nectar upon her tongue, then as foul and as foetid as Satan’s spice, and then, from a vole’s den beneath a rock, the man produced a wolf-belt and gave it to her.’

  But upon hearing him speak Valber’s name, Aalo’s eyes froze for a moment, and she turned her back on the others.

  To this Priidik the woodsman replied:

  ‘This is indeed a woeful tale
for the ears of good Christian folk, yet still the Count of Suuremõisa keeps aspens growing in his forests to ward off the wizards of Blocksberg. Why, my good innkeeper, have you ever seen a wolf-belt?’

  And the innkeeper from Haavasuo replied:

  ‘I have heard talk of them, though I have never seen one. Sometimes it is made of a wolf-skin, sometimes the skin of the hanged, and it is adorned with twelve dozen star constellations. And it is said to be tied around the waist using a buckle with seven tongues, but if even one of them is opened, the spell will be broken.’

  At this Priidik the woodsman cried:

  ‘Alas, that sin should be the burden of our birth! Why, others say a person need only crawl thrice beneath a tree trunk or run thrice around a rock speaking spells and he will be a werewolf made.’

  The innkeeper then replied, shaking his head:

  ‘When Valber was threatened with death by fire and faggot she cried out: if I must burn at the stake, then verily others shall burn with me. What may these words mean? Surely that Valber is not the only werewolf upon Hiidenmaa and that her sisters still run free!’

  Thus Priidik the woodsman asked:

  ‘How can we tell those who run with the wolves, what are their signs and features, so that we should know to beware of them?’

  And to this the innkeeper from Haavasuo replied:

  ‘Many say that werewolves are more pallid than natural people and that often their eyebrows meet above their noses, upon what folk call the Bridge of Beelzebub. And I have heard also that they have witches’ marks upon their bodies, scratches made by Satan himself as he claws at them, and that they do not feel pain, not even if you stick them with a needle. And if a person is found slain in their bed, a small bite upon their left side, this too is the work of a werewolf and means that they are near at hand.’

  And all the while, as the men spoke amongst themselves, Aalo stood perfectly still and silent, just like the water in the well.

  But before he left, the innkeeper from Haavasuo stretched forth his arms and solemnly sighed:

  ‘Help us, Heavenly Father, for in the words of Josaphat we beseech thee: wilt Thou not judge them? There must indeed be something woefully wrong with this world, crooked as the roof of Mustapeksu’s barn, and the end nigh for all, when the children of God run in the woods as the Devil’s whelps.’

  And with those words he went on his way.

  But when Priidik the woodsman and his wedded wife Aalo were once again alone in the cottage, Priidik too looked at Aalo’s ankle, doubt burning his brains, and said:

  ‘Why are you limping, wife? You were fine yesterday.’

  But Aalo replied meekly, as was her wont:

  ‘I knocked my ankle upon a sharp stone at the well, and look how it bleeds!’

  And with that she tore a piece of linen and bandaged her wounded ankle to stop the bleeding, and they spoke no more of it on that occasion.

  For Aalo was still surrounded by a magic force, full of the secrecy of witches and the Devil, and it was such that no mortal could yet break asunder.

  Chapter Eight

  But one night in the month of August, not long after these events, as the harvest was almost ready and the nights began to darken, Priidik the woodsman awoke in his bed, a draught making him shiver. And as he was fumbling for the wolfskin he realised at once that he was alone and that his wife Aalo’s place beside him lay empty.

  At this a strange shudder shook his soul, like a shadow cast across the room darkening it for a moment, he prayed thrice and said:

  ‘May the Lord and His Holy Angels look over her so no harm shall come to her, neither to her body nor to her soul, for she is as fragile as the finest glass, though her body is young and strong.’

  But sleep no longer touched his eyes, and all night he remained wide awake, waiting for his wedded wife Aalo to return.

  Thus finally the cock crowed in the farm, then another on the neighbour’s grounds, and finally a third further off as a signal that night was gone and morning arrived.

  And at that very moment Aalo his wife stepped through the door into the cottage and made straight for her bed.

  Upon this Priidik the woodsman, pretending to be asleep, opened his eyes and said:

  ‘Where have you been, wife? Whence do you come?’

  And Aalo replied:

  ‘I was in the birch grove tying up bath whisks, for tomorrow is Saturday and we shall bathe.’

  And in her clothes and in her hair hung the scent of the forest and of marsh tea, of moist boggy moss and of marsh mud; heavy and dizzying, like bog and bilberry.

  At once Priidik sensed this strange, fragrant scent as it filled his nostrils, as though the forest and all its inhabitants had been brought inside and filled the cottage, and he said:

  ‘Day is for daytime chores, and night is for sleep and rest. Never before have you wandered to the woods at night.’

  But when Aalo threw herself upon the bed, so the scent of the forest and of the swamp in her hair grew stronger, as if a wild forest beast had lain in the bed beside him, and not a young woman at all.

  And he felt a secret surrounding her, one he could not explain, and his soul sensed in this secret a formidable foe, just as wild creatures sense a brewing storm.

  With that he pushed his wife Aalo from him, so repulsed was he by this scent that he could not accept, for like a foreign Element it was against his nature.

  At this he said:

  ‘How comes the scent of the swamp in your hair?’

  And Aalo replied:

  ‘I went awandering by the swamp and gathered marsh tea in my apron to boil medicinal water. I may have had a branch in my hair for a moment.’

  But Priidik the woodsman felt his heart tremble with pain that his wife should so brazenly lie to his face that he sat up in bed and said:

  ‘You are lying, woman! You smell of wolf and not of the woods! Where have you been?’

  And when Aalo did not say a word in reply lightning flashed through his soul and he shouted:

  ‘Surely you did not spend the night running as a werewolf?’

  But as soon as he had uttered these words Aalo began to quiver, so determined was her husband in pursuit of the truth.

  And with that Priidik realised that he had indeed uncovered the truth, as easily as had he ensnared it in a trap, and shouted:

  ‘O, my woeful wife, have you fallen into the hands of He who ravages the spirit? Was it you who took the innkeeper’s sheep? Are you in league with the werewolves and the witches of Blocksberg?’

  To this Aalo replied:

  ‘What nonsense you speak, else it is the ale inside you talking.’

  And Priidik said:

  ‘My wife, there was a time you did not know how to lie, and your speech was nothing but the yea and the nay of the righteous!’

  And at this he demanded:

  ‘Do you run with the wolves or not?’

  Thus Aalo finally replied:

  ‘And if I do run with the wolves, if it is wolf’s blood which burns in my veins, then there is nothing any of you can do, for the bliss and the damnation in my soul are mine alone.’

  At this Priidik shouted:

  ‘Thus you confess, you are indeed a werewolf, cut off from the company of Holy people, and Christ nailed in vain to the cross for your soul!’

  And unto this Aalo said:

  ‘Listen to me, Priidik, for my breast burns like coals in the fire! Though I spend the hours of day with other people, and though I have a human form, so my spirit yearns for the company of wolves whenever night is near, for only in the wilds have I such freedom and joy. And thus I must go, for I am the kin of wolves, though indeed I may be burnt at the stake as a witch, for this is how I have been made!’

  But Priidik replied:

  ‘Do not blaspheme the name of your Creator, woman, for you have been shaped by Satan himself.’

  Yet search though he may as he looked upon his wife Aalo, he could see in the eyes of the Devil’s ch
ild neither insolence nor brazen impenitence, for the woman beside him was timid like a forest creature and a beautiful sight for her husband’s eye to behold.

  But at that same moment he recalled that the beauty of the face is also Beelzebub’s bait, as the wise Syrach forewarned: ‘Turn away, my sons, turn your eyes from beautiful women, for many a man has their beauty maddened.’

  And thus he further cursed his wife Aalo and said:

  ‘Is this the meaning of the mark beneath your breast shaped like a night butterfly? Fie, what a fool I have been, that I did not notice this before and take heed. For truly it is a witch’s mark and the fingerprint of the Evil One himself!’

  To this Aalo replied:

  ‘It is not a witch’s mark; my mother took fright as the barn was ablaze, and thus my breast was marked inside her belly.’

  At this Priidik scoffed:

  ‘The Devil has indeed marked you at birth with his branding iron, so that he will know his own.’

  And further he asked:

  ‘When you are in the forest, do you visit the Devil?’

  And Aalo replied:

  ‘The Spirit of the Forest comes to me.’

  And Priidik asked:

  ‘In what form does he come to you, as a man or as a wolf?’

  And Aalo replied:

  ‘Neither as a man nor as a wolf, for he has neither form nor body: he is everywhere, invisible, like a spirit.’

  Thus in his bitterness Priidik said:

  ‘Who are you, my wife? Do you truly have two natures, one meek, one wild as the forest beasts, each taking their turn to overpower you, one thirsting for blood like the wolves, whilst the other has all the virtues of a wife!’

  And at this his soul was consumed with darkness as he thought of how those beautiful limbs had been abused by Satan for his shameless deeds.

  And thus he asked:

  ‘Do you drink blood with the same lips as kiss your husband and take the Holy Communion?’

  And Aalo replied:

  ‘When I am a wolf, I do the deeds of wolves.’

  At this Priidik the woodsman exclaimed in a booming voice: