Rites of Spring

17 Walpurgis Night 1986

Eva-Britt taught me that rhyme when I was a child. She and Lola always recite it when they’re mixing herbs.

What does it mean? I wanted to know.

It means that death is necessary for new life to flourish, little Elita, Eva-Britt replied.

Many people are frightened by the thought of death, the idea that everything comes to an end. Not me. Nothing ever comes to an end. Now let’s say it together:

Hoof and horn, hoof and horn. All that dies shall be reborn.

Don’t you feel better already?

Per Nyberg and his father found the one-year-old fawn in the enclosure nearest to the castle forest. The carrion crows led them to the right place, a huge flock circling above the cadaver.

The belly was open. The crows and other carrion-eaters had made in-roads, but the wound in the throat was still clearly visible.

‘How many is that?’

Erik Nyberg took off his cap and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. ‘Three. The count won’t be pleased.’ He stomped around on the grass, looking for tracks.

‘Do you still think it’s a wolf or a lynx?’ Per wondered.

‘Have you got a better explanation?’ The response was rapid and a little too sharp. Erik paused, crouched down.

‘What have you found?’

No reply. Per went and looked over his father’s shoulder; there were a number of U-shaped indentations in the ground.

‘Hoof prints?’

Erik quickly straightened up, brushed the dirt off his knees.

‘They’re old,’ he muttered. ‘Nothing to do with this.’

He nodded toward the dead animal.

‘We need to go over the enclosure again. There must be a gap in the fence somewhere that we’ve missed – but first we have a job to do at Svartgården.’

The name made Per’s heart beat faster, and he had to make a real effort to maintain his composure.

‘What kind of job?’ he asked, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.

‘We’re terminating the lease.’

‘Shit – why?’

‘Because the count is selling the land to the army.’

‘So what happens to Lasse and his family?’

Erik shrugged. ‘Not our problem. The count can do what he likes with his land. Grab hold of the front legs.’

He seized the deer’s hind legs, while Per fumbled in his pockets for his gloves, only to realise he’d left them in the car. He could feel his father’s eyes on him, staring at Per’s smooth hands.

‘For fuck’s sake, Per – just do it. Getting dirt under your fingernails occasionally is part of what we do. You have to get used to it.’

Reluctantly Per seized the front legs. The fur was rough and cold. He suppressed a shudder.

Between them they carried the body to the car, with Per doing his best not to stare at the wound in the animal’s throat. The patches of dark red blood on the white belly. The big, empty eyes, reflecting the sky above.

The whole thing was so harsh, so brutal. So far from what he really wanted to do. The person he wanted to be.

He thought about Elita, about his dreams.

His heart beat even faster, bringing a flush to his cheeks. He glanced anxiously at his father, hoping he hadn’t noticed anything, but fortunately Erik seemed to be completely focused on the task in hand. His lips were moving, murmuring words that were barely audible:

‘Nature is hungry and the Green Man is riding through the forests.’