Read Online The Devil's Sanctuary by Marie Hermanson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marie Hermanson
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ground for poor bastards for hundreds of years. Sometimes I think you can sense it back there at the clinic. Bad vibes. That’s why I try to get away as often as I can. Down into the village or up here to the rapids.”
A fish jumped out of the water. Like a discarded knife it arced past and landed in the bubbling eddies of one of the higher pools.
“They’ve got such strength,” Daniel exclaimed.
Max smiled grimly. “They don’t get far. There’s a sluice just up there. That’s what makes this such a good spot for fishing. Right, let’s carry on.”
Max stood up and grabbed his rod.
Daniel was able to manage without instruction now, and Max moved to a rock farther out in the rapids. Sixty feet apart they each stood and fished on their own. They shouted to each other every now and then, holding up their catches whenever they caught something, congratulating each other. Otherwise they were silent, concentrating on the fishing and their own thoughts. The air was full of the smell of fir trees, and above the noise of the water Daniel imagined he could hear the sound of cowbells every so often. It sounded like the cowbell the girl in the bierstube had rung during her song.
The two brothers had now been together for the best part of twenty-four hours. And so far nothing had happened. No violent flashes of temper, no malicious remarks, no stupid practical jokes. Max seemed harmonious, happy. A bit restless, maybe, but that was just part of his character.
Daniel was also discovering that he had become more tolerant of his brother’s slightly pushy manner, his self-absorption, and inability to listen. He didn’t find it upsetting, as he so often had when he was younger. Max was evidently pleased to have him there. He’d taken him out to dinner, and here they were, fishing together. That was what Max had to offer, and these days Daniel understood the value of that sort of gift. Maybe they had finally found a frequency on which they could communicate as adults, as independent people.
The monotonous roar of the rapids, the whispering trees, and the distant cowbells put Daniel into a sort of meditative state. He hardly even noticed that Max had left his stone and was now cleaning the fish at the edge of the water. He only woke up when Max shouted at him to go and fetch some wood for a fire.
There was wood under the trees, covered by a waterproof arrangement of branches and a tarpaulin. The cut sections of wood had the letters “T O M” written on them in bright pink spray paint.
“This wood’s been marked. Is it okay to take some of it?” Daniel called.
“It’s fine. I know the farmer,” Max said from down by the river.
He had clearly made a lot of new contacts at the bierstube in the village.
A short while later they were sitting by a small fire, and while they were waiting for the flames to die down, Max said, “Can I ask you for a favor?”
He said it in a breezy tone of voice. Maybe it was to do with passing him something he couldn’t reach, or getting something, more wood perhaps. But these simple words, so gently and pleasantly uttered, struck Daniel like a punch. The air went out of him and he had to take several deep breaths before he could talk again.
“Oh?” he said stiffly.
Max stirred the embers with a stick and seemed preoccupied with this for a moment before he finally said bluntly: “I’ve got some problems.”
“What with?”
“I’ve been at the clinic for a while now and the bill has mounted up badly. Personal trainer, tennis lessons, mental coaching, massage, food and wine. No one ever mentions money, it just gets added to the invoice. In the end it feels like it’s all free, even though you know it’s absurdly expensive.”
“You can’t pay the bill, is that what you’re trying to say?”
“One of the hostesses handed it over in a pale-blue envelope during the late-night round. Discreet, smiling. I didn’t open the envelope until she’d gone. I almost
A fish jumped out of the water. Like a discarded knife it arced past and landed in the bubbling eddies of one of the higher pools.
“They’ve got such strength,” Daniel exclaimed.
Max smiled grimly. “They don’t get far. There’s a sluice just up there. That’s what makes this such a good spot for fishing. Right, let’s carry on.”
Max stood up and grabbed his rod.
Daniel was able to manage without instruction now, and Max moved to a rock farther out in the rapids. Sixty feet apart they each stood and fished on their own. They shouted to each other every now and then, holding up their catches whenever they caught something, congratulating each other. Otherwise they were silent, concentrating on the fishing and their own thoughts. The air was full of the smell of fir trees, and above the noise of the water Daniel imagined he could hear the sound of cowbells every so often. It sounded like the cowbell the girl in the bierstube had rung during her song.
The two brothers had now been together for the best part of twenty-four hours. And so far nothing had happened. No violent flashes of temper, no malicious remarks, no stupid practical jokes. Max seemed harmonious, happy. A bit restless, maybe, but that was just part of his character.
Daniel was also discovering that he had become more tolerant of his brother’s slightly pushy manner, his self-absorption, and inability to listen. He didn’t find it upsetting, as he so often had when he was younger. Max was evidently pleased to have him there. He’d taken him out to dinner, and here they were, fishing together. That was what Max had to offer, and these days Daniel understood the value of that sort of gift. Maybe they had finally found a frequency on which they could communicate as adults, as independent people.
The monotonous roar of the rapids, the whispering trees, and the distant cowbells put Daniel into a sort of meditative state. He hardly even noticed that Max had left his stone and was now cleaning the fish at the edge of the water. He only woke up when Max shouted at him to go and fetch some wood for a fire.
There was wood under the trees, covered by a waterproof arrangement of branches and a tarpaulin. The cut sections of wood had the letters “T O M” written on them in bright pink spray paint.
“This wood’s been marked. Is it okay to take some of it?” Daniel called.
“It’s fine. I know the farmer,” Max said from down by the river.
He had clearly made a lot of new contacts at the bierstube in the village.
A short while later they were sitting by a small fire, and while they were waiting for the flames to die down, Max said, “Can I ask you for a favor?”
He said it in a breezy tone of voice. Maybe it was to do with passing him something he couldn’t reach, or getting something, more wood perhaps. But these simple words, so gently and pleasantly uttered, struck Daniel like a punch. The air went out of him and he had to take several deep breaths before he could talk again.
“Oh?” he said stiffly.
Max stirred the embers with a stick and seemed preoccupied with this for a moment before he finally said bluntly: “I’ve got some problems.”
“What with?”
“I’ve been at the clinic for a while now and the bill has mounted up badly. Personal trainer, tennis lessons, mental coaching, massage, food and wine. No one ever mentions money, it just gets added to the invoice. In the end it feels like it’s all free, even though you know it’s absurdly expensive.”
“You can’t pay the bill, is that what you’re trying to say?”
“One of the hostesses handed it over in a pale-blue envelope during the late-night round. Discreet, smiling. I didn’t open the envelope until she’d gone. I almost
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