The forgotten people

Vendela B Brännborn

Hardcover; 192 pages

"Has the troll been here and taken my child from me?" Cecilia's father cannot believe that the disfigured child he holds in his arms could be his own daughter. Little does he know that the girl in his arms has special powers. Mother Kerstin is the security in Cecilia's life and the one who teaches her about the gifts she was born with. But it will not be forever... A betrayal forces Cecilia away from her home and into a forest where she learns to survive, but she is never alone. Someone watches over her. Who is her benefactor? And who is the evil Being who wants her soul?

Vendela Brännborn has a Bachelor of Arts in Literature and a Master of Arts in Creative Writing. Her childhood connection with nature and her mother's words: "You should write" led her to this book. "I write because there are simply so many stories that need to get out of my head and because imagination has always been my driving force and wealth in life. I want to share this story with you!"

Press release:

Review of Library Service, lecturer Teresa Vihtma, BTJ booklet no. 4, 2016:

"The Forgotten People is a story born from a genuine desire to tell a story. The book is well-written and exciting with complex characters. It is suggestive and draws its nourishment from a dark period in Swedish history when scores of women were burned to death for witchcraft. It is an impressive debut by an author with both a bachelor's degree in literary studies and a master's degree in creative writing. Vendela B. Brännborn plans to write two more books about Cecilia."

Excerpt from the book:

Prolog

Älvdalen 1668, between dream and reality

Ravens circle in the sky above her. Their small, black eyes peer at their prey. Ready to dive when the egg falls. She turns her gaze to the mob that is pressing in to catch a glimpse of her. Her gaze searches the crowd for a familiar face. A person who can explain her innocence. But she does not find her beloved features in the contemptuous crowd. An old woman spits in her face. Her frail body shakes.

"Don't you recognize me, Cecilia Andersdotter?"

The old woman's watery eyes look right into hers, and her mouth twists into a devilish sneer.

Cecilia is pulled back several years to a childhood she has tried hard to forget. She remembers harsh words and hidden blows and her own constant longing to be accepted by her father. But deeper behind those memories are things that are even harder to think about. Hugs and whispered, comforting words of love when no one else can hear, the scent of a loving embrace. Her chest feels heavy at the memory and the feeling too hard to bear, she makes her way back to reality.

“Well, do you still remember me?” the old woman barks.

"Midwife Margeta. It's always so unpleasant to see your sharp nose."

"How dare you treat me badly, you little troll child. You are where you deserve to be, that's what I've always said. It's a great pity that your mother couldn't have ended up here sooner."

"Don't drag my mother into your words about sin. My mother Kerstin was the gentlest of women, too kind for her own good. She only used her knowledge to do good."

Cecilia's voice breaks.

"A witch of the worst kind. The one who takes your best dairy cow and rides her with a broom in her behind so that your children can play with the devil at Blåkulla."

Margeta now screams in excited ecstasy to the mob behind her.

"I've never been to Blåkulla. I couldn't even find my way there if I wanted to and I would never, ever take your children against their will."

Cecilia turns her honest face towards the crowd. But all they see is her blind eye and the scar running down her cheek.

“She bears the mark of Satan,” shouts a man with a pitchfork in front of him.

"This woman has lain with the Ugly One, she has indulged herself and given birth to a devil's child. A child with a face like an angel. Tell me, can this woman give birth to a child with a twisted exterior? Only the devil can create a beautiful child for such a witch."

I have seen the girl myself and know where she is.”

Margeta finishes by turning to Cecilia and whispering in her ear.

“I would have drowned you when I had the chance.”

"Please! Do whatever you want with me, but don't touch my daughter."

Cecilia says these words to Margeta but receives only an amused laugh in response. She turns with renewed vigor to the mob and appeals to them.

"Leave my daughter alone, she has not done you any harm. Punish me but not my daughter."

The mob now screams in wild ecstasy.

“Burn the witch, burn the witch, burn the witch.”

Pastor Lars Elvius and the other officials try to silence the people who look at her with eyes shining with wild madness and who eagerly await the axe's dance.

"Cecilia Andersdotter, do you admit that you have practiced witchcraft and induced innocent children to sleep with the devil?"

“Yes, I admit it.”

Cecilia looks back at Margeta with a pleading eye.

Margeta just stares at her with a glassy gaze.

"I sentence you to death, your executioner is ready."

Elvius looks relieved. Another witch has confessed, a good day's work is done in the master's service. Now he can go home and rest his tired body after hard work.

Her legs feel heavy and can barely bear their burden. Will her head soon be separated from her neck? Is this really the last time she will draw fresh air into her lungs? Will she never again be able to hug her daughter and feel her warm body against hers? She must see her one last time, know that she is safe. Cecilia tries to look past the men who are leading her forward but cannot see anything over their broad shoulders. The executioner presses her down against the gallows. She has time to perceive the blunt edge of the axe and looks up at his face, which is strangely similar to her father. It goes black before her eyes and then she is enveloped in a silent darkness.

~