The Huldra

Lars jumped out of his mud streaked truck, well-worn workman’s boots thudding into the earth. He ran a hand through his light blonde hair and walked towards the waiting crew. The forest loomed ominously behind them, beneath a cloudy sky, dense pine the colour of midwinter even in the late summer sun, scenting the air with its fresh and spicy fragrance. 

The sun flashed out from behind the clouds, but seemed to bring no warmth as the autumn crept slowly over the Swedish summer. The crew, about a dozen men of different ages, regarded Lars silently. Some had worry tugging at the lines on their foreheads, while some seemed to smother knowing smiles. Lars stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and gazed around at them.

“Right. I’m Lars. I understand you’ve had some trouble felling this section, so I’ve been sent to help you get it done. Head office wants it cleared in the next two weeks.”

This had disconcertingly little effect on the assembled crew. Ignorant backwater villagers, he thought. Lars looked around and singled out the youngest lad, dark haired and clear eyed, by jabbing a finger towards him.

“You. What’s been going on here?”

Bjorn, a lad of no more than nineteen, took a half step forward.

“Well, you see sir, it’s that… I mean the forest sir… It’s… Well, we can’t cut it down.”

Some of the other men nodded, others remained immobile, staring at Lars’ face. He felt annoyance clawing at him already and responded brusquely.

“What do you mean? Why not?”

Bjorn took another couple of steps towards Lars, looking nervous, and lowered his voice.

“Well, you see…. It’s the Huldra. She lives here, we can’t cut it down.”

Lars stared at Bjorn in disbelief, stunned silent for a moment. This is why head office had sent him down to head this crew? Why the local foreman wouldn’t do the job? Some of the men were definitely chuckling now, others still more deeply worried, peering over their shoulders as if they expected the forest to reach out and drag them in.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Lars. He gazed around at the rest of the crew, icy blue eyes sweeping across the local men. “Get to work”.

Two of the older men stood up and walked off to their cars and just drove away, leaving Lars with a set jaw and a rising anger in him. Stupid superstitious… peasants! Jeez. The others were lingering around, so Lars sent them for their tools and to start with some of the trees at the edge. Best to just get them moving on something, while he got the lay of the land.

“You,” Lars pointed at Bjorn. “Take me to see what we’re felling.”

Bjorn walked towards the edge of the treeline with Lars while the rest of the men went about with an air of studied busyness. Bjorn hesitated at the edge of trees, a deep cool silence emanating from between the boughs. Lars sighed and pushed ahead, cracking dead branches and undergrowth beneath his feet. Bjorn watched his receding back, and shaking his head, plunged in after him.

He’s got no idea what he’s getting himself into, thought Bjorn. He’s just an outsider, he doesn’t know how things are around here. 

Bjorn loved the spreading forest that stretched for miles around here. He’d grown up in its shade and running between its trunks. But never this area of the forest, no never here. Everyone around here learned that as soon as they learned to crawl. They’d all grown up on tales of the Huldra, the beautiful spirit with a fox tail and a back of bark, fierce guardian of the wild. No one hunted in her forest, no one went without leaving a gift, and no one ever cut down the trees. This was the Huldra’s land.

Bjorn felt the change as they went deeper in, the temperature dropping, a silence that crept in and wound itself around the trees, around their legs, up into their hearts. Bjorn shivered, a foreboding filling him. In all his years, he’d never felt the forest like this.

Lars strode on ahead and suddenly came across a small, shallow river running across their path. Moss and lichen spread over the trees, the stones that lay about, garlanding them in a cushioned lushness. The river created pools and riffles, with spray from the water hitting the rock sending up rainbows and diamonds in the air, drenched in a burst of sunshine from above. Bjorn caught his breath and felt his fingers tingle. He looked around wildly, expecting something, though not sure what. Lars’ brow furrowed. 

“I don’t remember seeing this river on the map of this section.”

He spun around to look at Bjorn. Bjorn stared at him and shrugged helplessly. Lars was like an ignorant child, blundering around the forest, insensitive to the flow of energy through this place. Bjorn could feel his whole body vibrating, it was like standing on the skin of a drum.

“I think we should head back,” said Bjorn, quietly and seriously.

There was a tone in the youth’s voice that made Lars look at him anew. He saw the fear that lingered in the lad’s eyes, then felt angered for being momentarily drawn into his country ignorance.

“Nonsense.”

The rushing sound of the river grew deeper somehow, sinking into the cavern of the forest, cutting a chasm through earth and stone. Light dimmed as the sun disappeared and the air grew thick and cloying. Bjorn reached for a tree trunk to steady himself and squeezed his eyes tight shut. 

“What… What’s happening?” said Lars, looking around, frowning.

Suddenly the sun broke out through the clouds and pine boughs, molten gold pouring down on a young, beautiful woman. She had long blonde hair, with dewy fresh skin and sparkling blue eyes. Lars found that he couldn’t look away from her, nor could he seem to pull his thoughts together. She was just so beautiful. She seemed to glisten and sparkle between the dark of the trees, a wildflower shining in a meadow of green.

Bjorn’s heart was racing, his mouth dry. She was here, not ten paces away from him. She turned her enchanting gaze towards him and flashed a smile as bright and dangerous as the sea. She wore a long red dress, clinging to her shapely, youthful body. But under the hem, Bjorn could see it, the rich russet fox fur of her tail. Being a well-brought up country boy, Bjorn knew what to do.

“Good day miss,” he said, and bobbed his head in respect. “I, um, your petticoat is showing.”

His tongue felt thick in his mouth and his palms sweaty. Lars just stared at her, unable to move or speak. The Huldra glanced down to see her tail peeking out from beneath her dress.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

Her voice was like honey and wild strawberries and Bjorn trembled as it flowed over his skin and sank into him.

The Huldra’s gaze flicked towards Lars and her eyes hardened, before returning back to Bjorn. She walked closer, so close that Bjorn could smell the wild scent of her skin, the sunshine in her hair. He breathed deeply, drinking in the freedom that hung about her like a mantle. She bent to whisper in his ear. 

“I know that you’re a good boy, Bjorn. I know that if you turn around and leave now, you’ll never want for food on your table, or clothes on your back.”

She reached up and kissed his forehead with soft and untamed lips. Bjorn felt the quiet, abundant energy of the forest reach inside him and grow roots down deep into the rich earth, connecting with the fine, silken threads of the mycelium net. He breathed in the air and ate sunlight, he felt the slow passing of time and felt the cycles of life, death, decay and rebirth spread through him. It washed over him like a wave, and when it passed, he staggered backwards.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, and then turned and ran as fast as he could.

The Huldra turned back to Lars, a dreamy, greedy look on his face, not too dissimilar to the look of greed that the company officials had worn when they had come to survey the forest for felling. He had watched the whole exchange as if watching through water, distant, slow and distorted. He felt unable or unwilling to move, but as he looked at her, he felt desire quicken him. Her beauty was astonishing and he longed to have her. She smiled at him with full pink lips and white teeth. His eyes raked her body and he found the ability in him to move.

She stood waiting as he made his way towards her, heart thudding, lust colouring his vision. He came close enough to smell her, she smelled of wildflowers and pine, mist and wild water. Lars reached for the woman he saw before him, and pulled her to him, crushing his mouth against hers. His hands did not feel the rough bark of her back, just the soft warmth of skin. The Huldra laughed throatily as Lars fell deeply into her, unable to think or feel anything other than her.

Lars pushed her to the soft, mossy ground, a forest bower for a bed and pulled up her dress, seeking the deep recesses of her self. He cried out as he entered her, lost entirely to the desire and lust that wracked his body. The Huldra gripped him to her, then raised him up off her when he was done.

“Now, my love, it is time to go home.”

Her voice was honey, but hidden beneath that was the trap, sharp and dangerous as blackthorn. Lars nodded unsurely. Home? Wherever this gorgeous creature would lead him, he would go anywhere with her. 

The Huldra took him by the hand and walked him through the trees, weaving a path that led deeper and deeper into the forest. Lars walked in a daze, thinking only of her, her body, possessing her, reaching her home, her bed, and losing himself in her again.

Eventually they came to a cave, beneath a great tree, roots twined around the entrance. Scattered out the front were many bones, including a human skull or two. Some were ancient and yellowed, moss-covered and decaying. Some were fresher, still with ragged flesh stuck to the bone. The cave was filled with an impenetrable darkness. Lars  didn’t even look around at the ghastly sight, eyes fixed solely on the angelic vision before him. 

Smiling at him over her shoulder, the Huldra led Lars in, to his doom.

© Elena Tornberg-Lennox 2022