continued: the Circle part 2.2
The smithy was nestled in one of the back streets, facing away from the manor. Gabriel wondered if this was intentional or if the forge had been built long ago. Then again, feuds between the guild merchants and nobility ran deep and had a long history. The door was slightly ajar and the pungent smell of melted metal had immersed into the wood. The room was dark and empty. The forge glowed darkly in the middle, with fire which was never truly put out. The dark and huge outline of the smith lumbered in the corner, but Gabriel knew he was not asleep. His eyes were luminous and threatening in the dark and he grunted and then moved into the back room. Gabriel followed him and was momentarily blinded by the light.
“I am to assume it was Anna who forced you here? I expected you earlier, but this will have to do.”
The man’s voice was low and hoarse, muffled by years of breathing by the forge. The room was small with a low, sloping ceiling. Rickety wooden benches were laid next to the walls and the smith sat down heavily in one shadowy corner. His eyes were piercing and Gabriel gave him a vicious glance, which in turn made the other man smile.
“The girl can be forceful, when need be. But I guess you are not used to that. Surrounded with noble ladies and such.”
There was irony in his voice, and a gruff disapproval.
“You disapprove of Rome.”
“I disapprove of all things which surround themselves with riches and guardians leaving their people defenceless to the punishments of the nobility’s transgressions.”
Gabriel had to look away. Few days ago he would have been ready to raise his hand in defence of the Holy City, but now with the blood of the impalement still clogging the back of his throat, he could do nothing but silently agree with the man.
“But you are not here to ease my dispute with the throne.”
Sharply Gabriel turned his gaze back to the man. He could now see the lines on his face, the etchings of memory of past horrors. Suddenly Gabriel felt tired, bone weary. He had no desire to be a saviour to these people.
“What do you need me to do?”
x x x x x x x
Gabriel stood to the side of the hall, watching his men with detached eyes. The hour was late and most of the women in the hall had lost their clothing many hours ago. He scanned the inebriated crowd and tried to find a girl who would be at least older than fourteen. In the corner of his eye he could see Beaumont, with a tankard of ale in his hand and two very well endowed boyar girls on each knee, clearly enjoying himself. Gabriel understood perfectly the necessity for their actions. It had after all been his idea. They would go along with everything. They would throw themselves into the life of the Prince and slowly take his court from the inside. And he would be calling himself a hypocrite if he claimed he did not enjoy the warm and willing bodies warming his bed each night, but amidst the drinking he would catch glimpses of the small and skinny young girls brought over from the village for their entertainment. He would sometimes think that he could see the hunger in the faces of his friends as well; to take something pure and untouched and to sully it.
Dragulia would always get the first choice. He could select the best and the rest would be left to the men. The woman of unnatural beauty, Verona as Gabriel had learned to know her, would silently stand by his throne and follow him into their bedchamber with the other girls. Sometimes the Prince would look right at him through the crowd, and Gabriel would think that he knew somehow. That he was aware of all the vows Gabriel was breaking and was silently rejoicing in some unnamed victory.
The summer took them all by surprise. The warm air flooded the valley erasing the memory of the frost which had still lingered. The warmth made the men even more ravenous. They hunted like madmen at high summer. Deer and boar was plentiful in the surrounding forest and the bloodlust of these seasoned warriors was unquenchable. They were men used to the battlefield and the thin tents which separated them from the enemy at night. Now they could only state their lusts in the bodies of the women crowding the hall at night and into the corpses of the game which had lived in the forest in peace throughout the long cold winter.
The forest was lush and green, the foliage hiding all of Dragulia’s past transgressions, allowing the men to hunt with a clear conscience. Gabriel felt the beast between the trees; its black eyes watching him intently as if revealing some intelligence in the boar’s primitive mind. His arm moved on instinct a thick blade of the sabre slicing open the boar’s side. The animal did not even move away from the blow. It fell onto its side, legs twitching helplessly. Gabriel watched its struggle with hunger he could not will away.
The wounds of the animal were fatal, but not enough to take its life immediately. Its breathing was laboured and Gabriel could not take his eyes away from its struggles. The blood was rich and pungent in the air. Gabriel pushed his hand against the animal’s ribcage and felt as its heart slowed down and then stopped. His palm felt cold against the animal’s skin even though the blood was still warm. Suddenly Vladislaus pulled him up grasping his bloody hand in his own.
“You are one of us now, brother.”
He smiled, with warmth that seemed unnatural in his face.
“It is the blood that binds us, death around us that solidifies our union.”
Then he laughed, grasping Gabriel around the shoulder.
“Come now my friend, we have much wine to drink and women to entertain.”
And Gabriel smiled at his words.
x x x x x x x
It was easy for Gabriel to fall into the rhythm of life of the castle. Wine and soft bodied women weakened his resolve and Dragulia was a constant and playful presence by his side. It all had become a game and it was easy; Gabriel had himself ordered it so. The Prince provided them with ample entertainment and above all he condemned nothing. Once in his good grazes the men could do very little wrong. The crimes from which Gabriel had seen men hanged in Rome were in Dragulia’s court rewarded with the most lewd of prizes.
Part of Gabriel could recognise the ingenious tactics of Dragulia, but he could not help but be swayed by it. Here he could push back the teachings of Rome, could let his true nature shine through. It was not way of a battle hungry Knight to pay curtsey to the laws of the church. He had not been trained to be placid or obedient and it had been long since he had been allowed to rely on his baser instincts; to kill without morale and restraint. And he wanted it, wanted the blood to spill and pool to the wounds. Dragulia had a way of giving you everything you had ever hoped for, just in ways which you could never forget.
Anna was dragged to the gathering of men outside the stables. Dragulia had heard that a new flock of geese had taken refuge in the near-by pond and insisted the men take their bows and arrows to try their luck immediately. Annoyance was now shining from his face. Dragulia turned to the small procession and eyed the dishevelled woman held captive by the guards. From behind them emerged Sergiu, one of the men Gabriel had seen near the Prince vying for favour. He was pressing a rag onto a long gash on his face.
“I want her dead.”
His voice was venomous and Anna spit into his face. Gabriel could see the humiliation shine off Sergiu’s face and knew Dragulia could too.
“So, Sergiu. You cannot even handle a chamber maid. I do wonder how you will handle the Turkish army.”
The men laughed, some eyeing Sergiu with scorn. Gabriel could hear someone muttering how a perfectly good afternoon could be sullied by a reluctant chamber maid. Sergiu clenched his fists impotently; he could nothing else in the face of his master’s mockery.
“She denied me.”
There was triumph in his voice and Gabriel felt fear slowly creep into his chest. Dragulia looked pensive and eyed the not so distant forest path longingly.
“It is an offence to deny my guests anything. As you know. And the sentence of your denial should be death.”
The last part he directed straight at Anna, and Sergiu smiled viciously. But Dragulia eyed the man’s scarred face with amusement.
“But I do admire her resilience in protecting her chastity. So it will be the whip instead. Tie her up!”
Anna started struggling at once, but the heavy guards dragged her towards the barge. Her hands were tied and then the rope was looped around the pole, forcing her arms above her head. He knew she could see him from the corner of her eye, but Gabriel could not make himself move. For a moment he though he could see gratitude in her face.
Blood was running in rivers down her legs and colouring the dusty earth dark brown, her legs, which had stood firm on the ground, were beginning to shake as each lash of the whip tore a hoarse scream from her throat. It was only the power of Marcell’s ox-size arms that held Gabriel in place. He could see tears and spit running down her chin, making it hard for her to breathe. Another lash, and another scream, and part of him feared that she would not live through this. After long agonizing minutes Dragulia waved his palm in the air, hailing the end of the punishment. Sergiu rolled the bloody whip up; eyeing Anna’s torn back with satisfaction. Dragulia’s party and the guards began making their way back to the manor; some laughing and commenting on the whipping, others more silent, eyes darting back towards the barge.
Marcell made his way to her, Gabriel not far behind, but having to hide himself in the crowd. When he saw the last of Dragulia’s guards disappearing back into the house he darted across the square, where Marcell was already talking to her in hushed tone. Closer, Gabriel could see her entire body shaking, even though her feet were steady now. She kept shaking her head at Marcell, squeezing her hands tighter around the ropes. Suddenly he motioned to Gabriel.
“Hold on to her as I cut the ropes.”
His voice was hushed and Anna still kept shaking her head. Gently as he could Gabriel wrapped his arms around her legs trying to give her as much support as possible without touching the flesh of her back. With care they helped her to the smithy, where Marcell instantly began to push more heat into the forge.
She was grouched over a work-bench, her legs had finally given in. Marcell was eyeing the flayed skin in the light of the torches, face worried.
“I think we might have to scorch the deeper cuts.”
Gabriel could see Anna’s entire frame flinching, but she nodded. Marcell pushed a flat ended piece of long metal into the furnace. With his head he motioned to Gabriel.
“Make yourself useful and give her leather to bite on. And hold on to her shoulder so she does not move around too much.”
Gabriel could not tear his eyes from the bloody rivulets adorning the woman’s back, and shuddered at the carelessness of the smith’s words. He folded a piece of thick leather from the back and made his way back to Anna. Her hands were gripping the legs of the bench, eyes darting around the room. Gabriel touched her face, it was an instinctive gesture and her eyes stilled and connected with his own. She bit into the leather, bowing her head down. Gabriel palmed her shoulders trying to avoid any cuts, but she flinched none the less. He buried his face next to her ear.
“Anna… It is going to be…”
He did not know how to finish, but she nodded against his shoulder. Over her shoulder Gabriel saw the red hot metal gleaming in the darkened room and squeezed a little tighter. The first burn made her lunge forward, a strangled howl escaping the leathery bit. With his own body weight Gabriel stopped her from escaping and Marcell burned another cut. After the fifth one she was panting and Gabriel could feel her quavering. It was no longer the shaking from the yard. He had seen it when hunting sometimes. Small creatures, when cornered or dying they did not try to fight. They just curled up and shivered. He motioned Marcell to stop and ran his hands over her arms.
He though about the boar and how it shook lying on its side, blood pooling around its body. He had seen the creature’s wish of death. He had still tasted its blood in his mouth and denied its wish. In Anna’s eyes he could see the boar and he would never forgive himself. But then she touched his brow with a shaking hand and there was such softness in her eyes.
“It will be forgiven, in time.”
Like she knew and saw all of his trespasses. Suddenly Gabriel understood; they had tied her down, like the boar. She was meant for the wilderness and each time she bit the leather channelling her pain, a part of him died.
x x x x x x x
Maybe Dragulia could feel that things had shifted, or maybe it had nothing to do with Gabriel, but with something inside the man himself. His eyes turned colder, more calculating. The girls and even Verona were left outside his bedroom at nights. He stopped eating, the food on his plate merely spread around. If those most loyal to him noticed, they did not draw attention to it.
The first time it happened it was an early august evening. They had all dined and drank their fill, but no girls appeared from the side-door and some of the men were beginning to look displeased. Dragulia sprung up from his chair hissing:
“Is that why you are all here? For the skinny cunts from the village? Have you all forgotten the godless army of the Turks hungering for out land? For I have not.”
Dragomir rose at his words, countenance angry.
“How dare you accuse us! Us, the most loyal to you. I have shed blood by your side in each campaign. It is you who has forgotten how we were crushed the last.”
Dragulia pushed through the horde of men and grabbed Dragomir by the lapels of his jacket. He shook the other man, but Dragomir grasped his writs squeezing in retaliation.
“I have not forgotten, my brother. You insolent son of a whore.”
Gabriel and Beaumont pulled the men apart before the cursing begot a mass-scale row. Dragulia felt cold and vile against Gabriel’s grasp, but he could not let the enraged man go.
“I am offering you salvation, how blind are you not to see it!”
“You offer us nothing but magic tricks!”
Dragulia tore himself away from Gabriel his face red and furious.
“Oh, you will follow me brother. You will bow to my magic, and you will bow to me.”
He stormed out of the hall and all of the men could do nothing but follow. They were compelled to. They descended into a burial crypt beneath the manor and beneath ground. The Prince stood there, immobile, eyeing the tombs of his forebears.
“I will not let my father return into conquered land. I will not.”
In the centre of the cavernous room a black slab of stone had been polished and it gleamed in the darkness.
“You are all men of God. But God is not on the side of conquerors. I have made the sacrifice. Now you must stand here by me and receive him.”
Gabriel could see his face, pallid and horrible. He could see the demon peeking through the façade of a man. And could do nothing. He felt Tristan tense behind him, but held the other man back.
“Oh, Knight of the Holy City of Rome, our work is only beginning. Now I will show you a way to push back the army of the Turks forever.”
The body of the little girl was limp, but as the men carried her past him Gabriel could tell that she was still breathing. From the corner of his eye he could see Adrian moving closer, eyes fixed on the little body. The ritual was brief, and the words slid around Gabriel’s head like water in his ear. He watched as the girl groggily came out of her unnatural sleep and watched as Dragulia plunged a knife in her abdomen.
He felt like he was on his knees for hours retching until his stomach felt concaved and empty. He forced himself to move, stumbling into his room. The bed felt coarse and the blankets suffocated him in his sleep. Near dawn Gabriel sobbed, curled around his blanket like some kind of animal. He could not stop the tears, just as he could not stop a new day and a new ritual. After breakfast Anna came in and shooed him out of the bed, and Gabriel dressed mechanically. She forced him to eat and hugged him fiercely as she sent him out to greet the others in the courtyard.
x x x x x x x
The obsidian gleamed in the darkness and Gabriel felt his stomach heave. The bright sharp smile in Dragulia’s face made him scold his features into a lazy smile. The steady flow of blood began to slow down and then stopped completely. Gabriel stood impassive as Dragulia swooped down on the body and shoved his hand into the wound. The blood seemed almost black in the low light. There was such bliss on his face as he slowly sucked the blood off his fingers.
Gabriel stumbled in the shadow of the corridor his stomach clenching and hands shaking. Seven, he had seen seven until now. He could no longer account for the episodes as mere repulsion. He had seen this over and over again and his constitution had been schooled in many battles before this. Corpses, even those of children did not shake him. But he could not fight the clogging, ashy taste of evil from his throat. It returned with more force each time, no matter ho much wine or ale he consumed to erase it. Each time it grew, like someone was opening a door, little more each time, letting in dusty, sandy air. Desperately he clutched the iron handle of his chamber door, unable to open it. The shakes were getting worse and Gabriel bit his lip until it bled.
The steps behind him were soft, nearly inaudible, but somehow ever since the first day he could always sense the woman’s presence. Anna’s work-roughened hands pushed his hair away from his face and he could see the worried expression on her face. She pushed the door open for him and Gabriel limped to the bed. Silently she pulled the basket of dirty linen into the room and shut the door. He could still see some stiffness in her movements, some hint of the injury. Dragulia had pushed her into work the very next day, but Gabriel knew most of the kitchen maids had taken over some of her duties. She pushed the tapestries away from the window and cold night-air filled the room.
She had come to work the very next day, pushing her basket into his room. Her face had been ashen and she had nearly collapsed on the floor. Gabriel had tried to help her into his bed, but she had stated crying as he attempted to lift her. So he had let her be and stripped the bed himself folding the linen into the basket. She had lain on the ground for a long while. Gabriel nearly went to get another servant, but she rose up and thanked him. Laboriously shed had pulled the basket against her side and continued with her duties. Gabriel had watched as she limped down the corridor.
Now she poured water from the jug and forced him to drink. Gabriel’s throat fought, but she was persistent and in the end his body merely gave in. Between the coughs he managed to gasp:
“Anna…”
Her fingers grazed his cheek and she pushed more water at him.
“I cannot do this.”
“Yes you can.”
Her voice was so sure, so relentless in her belief that he would conquer the beast in the end. He often wondered if defeating evil truly was worth all this; worth all the suffering and the ash in his mouth. But her hands were on his face again, long thin fingers petting his brow.
“I will stay, if you wish it.”
Her voice was soft and her hands gentle. He could feel the throbbing in his limbs lessen and silently nodded. She pushed herself higher on the mattress, back resting against the ornately carved headboard. There was something calming in the way the bed sank with the weight of her body. Her hands kept their steady pace, but she refused to look at him, keeping her eyes fixed towards the window.
“I see the women come and go each night.”
Gabriel could hear the worry in her voice, the soft underlying tension, fear maybe.
“Do they help? Do they make it easier? This pretence you are living.”
Gabriel thought back on the nights of banquets and of game and hunting. He was weak and a sinner and he could not make himself a liar in her eyes.
“Yes, yes they do.”
He could barely recognise the coarse voice as his own. Anna’s hands stilled for a moment and then her weight lifted as she left the bed. Gabriel waited for the creak for the hinges of the door, but it never came. He turned onto his side. Anna stood next to the bed with her coarse wool dress pooled around her feet. She was by no means perfect, too skinny to be truly beautiful. Her ribs jutted out at an angle and some red burn marks adorned her upper arms, but Gabriel still could not breathe.
“I asked you to do this. I asked you to betray all which you believed in. You can have this; it is the only thing of value I can give you.”
Gabriel knew he should have declined, he should have sent her on her way, but the temptation of oblivion was too great, so he nodded. She crawled into the bed and lay down, as he pulled his clothes off. Anna spread her legs for him, eyes dancing around the room, like she was not quite sure what to do with herself. It was easy to take her, to sink into her body. But she gasped in pain and turned her face away from him. He mumbled his apologies into her neck and pulled out swiftly which made her flinch even more, but her hands made to pull him back on top of her and her face was strained.
“No, no. Go back. It will be alright.”
But he knew she was lying, her eyes were so grateful and he pushed her to lie down. She slumped back against the sheets as if there were no point in arguing with him.
Her legs were still open and he let his fingers run over her, slipping between the folds, not really knowing what he was doing. Her breath was harsh, eyes clenched shut. Gabriel could remember the loud shrieks of the other women, and they sounded false to his ears now. He stroked her with his thumb and she jerked like a puppet on a string with a little whine.
Gently he pressed his lips to her mound, pushing his tongue where his fingers had travelled, folding her open even more. She made a slightly horrified noise and tried to pull him away by his hair, but Gabriel would not be deterred. He pressed kisses against her stomach, letting his hands gentle her sides. He could feel the rough ends of the scars against his fingertips. Her eyes were huge and uncertain, hands fisted in the bedding.
He pushed his fingers into her and could not help the thought; I have been here, I hurt her this way. She had closed her eyes again, head rolled back, lost in her own world. He pressed his mouth against her again and her heels pushed into his back almost painfully. He could feel her clenching around his fingers, and it just made him push more and longer. Her entire back curved off the bed, hips desperately pushing against his hands. She swore in a way Gabriel had never heard before.
There was softness around her eyes now, and a lazy tilt to her smile. She pulled him up flush against her breasts, and pulled him in with ease. She bit his shoulder and moved against him with clear intent. And he thought back to the communions of every Sunday. He remembered the holy rites and lifted her knee higher around his body. Drink this wine for it is my blood. She would not let got of his gaze, would not let him close his eyes; again, like she knew. Take this body for it is the only thing I can give you.
After Anna lay still among the sheets; allowing his hands to travel over the scars, mapping their geography.
“I am sorry that I hurt you.”
“We all hurt each other, Gabriel. Just in different ways.”
It was the first time she had said his name and Gabriel willed her to say it again, but she had opened her eyes and was watching him.
x x x x x x x
The days bled into one another, in his mind they became fantasies, memories which never happened. The warmth of the summer began to wane from the air and the mornings became chilly and misty once more. He would kill and spill the blood of the innocent and of the young. Dragulia would watch the movement of Gabriel’s knife, his eyes cold and unreadable, but somehow so very pleased. In the early morning hours she would live in his bed and Gabriel would worship her body with fervour he had once reserved only for his God. He would pour all that was evil and twisted into her and Anna would consume it and not be shaken.
He would watch her in the castle and by the apple orchard where the maids were collecting the year’s crop. He sometimes wondered if he was hurting her, if all the pain he pushed into her somehow manifested in flesh. But each night she seemed fine, and looked on him with hunger he could never fully understand. She was ravenous and bony under his hands; always seeking her own pleasure before concerning herself with him. The scars were thick like snakes, coiled under his palm and she no longer flinched away from his touch. Maybe it was the evil that she craved. He watched as the thick skin of the whip marks cracked and bended in the moonlight and wondered if he did too.
The men were growing distant with each other, all trying to cope, trying to find meaning in what they were doing. Gabriel did not have the strength to pull them together anymore. Maybe he did see the betrayal in Adrian before, but would not allow himself to act on it. Maybe his faith in his men had been so blind that he had failed to see what Anna had warned him of. Evil was seductive. It offered easy answers and Hell always extracted a heavy price for its services.
They dragged Gabriel out of his bed before he had time to wake properly. Blindly his hands grasped to protect Anna, but she was no longer there. He twisted his forearm around one of the hands holding him and with a slight crack pulled the man’s arm out of its socket. Someone punched him in the nose for that and he could feel blood beginning to dribble into the back of his throat. He landed a few good hits before one of the men slammed his elbow into the back of Gabriel’s head and everything went black for a moment. They dragged him thorough the halls into the dungeons below ground. He saw Beaumont prostrate on the ground and the brothers bloody and furious in the next cell. The only one missing was Adrian. He was standing beside Dragulia and his face was smooth and cold, his gaze cast towards his new master.
“You must be so proud of yourself, you little shit weasel.”
Tristan’s icy voice echoed in the low hallway. Gabriel could make out the he was further away than the rest. He must have put up a hell of a fight. Adrian only smiled.
“Tristan, how could you possibly understand? You have always been burdened by your faith in Rome.”
“You defy your God, Adrian?”
Gabriel spit through his split lip.
“Oh, my brother, it is all about to change. It is not God who will reign here for much longer.”
They took the torches and blew out the candles on the way out, plunging the cave into darkness. Gabriel lay on the ground, the cold of the stone seeping into his side.
x x x x x x x
Anna ran down the hall. The main doors had been thrown wide open and she could see the church and the priests impaled outside. Blood pooled on the ground and slid down the poles like rain. She had to get Gabriel. Maybe it was already too late. The hand came out of nowhere, knocking the breath out of her. Sergiu’s face smiled down at her through his refined beard. His hands were strong and harsh as he forced her through the door into the dining hall. The dozens of faces looked at her with hunger and disgust. Sergiu’s hand tightened around her torso.
“I think that you and I have a score to settle.”
The first blow made her fall to her knees, blood dribbling down her chin.
x x x x x x x
Adrian watched the limp face of the boy as he was spread over the sanctified altar of the village church. It is the power of God that shall bring Him forth. And he smiled. Dragulia strode around the boy, letting his fingers now and again graze the boy’s skin.
“Bring the smelling-salt. I want him awake for this.”
His voice, even to Adrian’s ears, sounded cold, but he was beginning to like the cold. The bolt of the arrow was so sudden all of the men jumped. The wooden, feathered end was gruesomely sticking out of Dragulia’s arm.
The men pounced on Marcell before he had time to realise his failure. The fight was short lived as the blacksmith’s head rolled down the aisle, leaving a pearl-like string of blood in its wake.
x x x x x x x
Gabriel
Gabriel did not know how long he had lay in the darkness. But his form was filled with the voice. It reverberated in each muscle and joint. And he could rise up.
Gabriel
He could feel the scars of his back spreading and opening like craters, and power came from within, a sword and light. It illuminated the dungeon and as he touched the bard they melted away into red puddles like the forge. He saw as his companions shielded their eyes, he saw as they prayed and he saw as Beaumont rose to his feet.
Gabriel could feel the tainted son upon the earth as he had done aeons ago. The memory of a million years rushed back and filled his mind until he knew everything. The square was empty and the church was black as night. And the son of the Morningstar walked now among men and Gabriel saw him on the steps white and with his black wings reaching for the sky.
They circled one another, creatures of flesh they were; but Gabriel could see him beyond the confides of the physical. The darkness etched into the lines of his body, the promises and vows he had made. Dragulia was the one to draw first blood and it swelled bright against Gabriel’s arm. They were men as much as they were divine creatures here, but he could feel the pressure in his head from something much more powerful than himself.
He felt the pain of Dragulia’s blows and saw the blood running down his limbs. The sword in his hand was light and filled with memory. It brought flashes of fiery rain and water upon the earth, but it belonged to him and in the end Dragulia would never be a match for him. He would never master the power because he was not born of it. And the Morningstar was greedy above all things and never gave anything for free. He did not kill Dragulia, but struck him into oblivion.
The church was black, the tendrils of dankness slithering on the ground and into the trees. He stepped in and felt revulsion, a physical detestation. He saw the boy; ribcage open and spread out towards the sealing. Sacrifice. The portal was still open and he could feel the Other and his armies right on the other side. He tried to close it but he held no power in Hell or sway over the fallen.
He felt Beaumont and Tristan. They moved cautiously, swords drawn. Gabriel wanted to tell them that what ever came through could not be defeated by swords or spears. Beaumont touched the boy.
“They took a life.”
There was dark promise in his voice and Gabriel could not help as something greater than himself spoke through him.
“So life must be willingly given.”
There was a second where Gabriel could have stopped him, but in the end he did not want to. Beaumont stepped into the black and pushed his sword into his own heart. Gabriel fell to the floor. The black collapsed into itself with a whine. Pain seared in his mind and blood poured over his shoulders and the divine left. He sobbed and screamed until he could no more and Tristan’s sure and strong hands pulled him up.
The yard seemed strangely orderly, only Dragulia’s body lay on the middle. Daniel and Dathan lifted the body and tied him to the barge. He seemed pale and diminished somehow, slumped over like that. Then the screaming started. And Gabriel tore into the castle. The remaining men were at the door of the dining hall; pushing the wood ferociously. Caleb did not seem injured but still he swayed on his feet.
“Dragulia’s men are still in there, locked up and battle ready.”
Gabriel pressed against the door and though; Anna. He felt her and her despair and finally the wood gave in.
Bodies of the large warriors were strewn around the room as if mangled by wild beasts; the putrid smell of blood and entrails clouded the room like a fog. Anna was on her hands and knees in the middle, screaming. Gabriel fought through the bodies to get to her but she flinched away from him arms. Her hair and clothes were caked in blood, slick and bright red. Shakily she rose to her feet and for a moment Gabriel though he could see something ancient and terrible peek from beneath her eyes, but it was gone before he could catch it.
He watched as she bathed in a giant tub made for the mistresses of the house. He would not let her get away even for a moment and she did not seem to mind. Her hair straightened in the water and slicked back. She pushed her milky flesh beneath the water and watched as it turned red and pushed on the bruises and cuts on her legs as if seeing them for the first time. Some of the women had tried to enquire whether she had been violated, but Anna had laughed and shaken her head sadly. It was easy for Gabriel to sink into her and push back the memories of the day. They overwhelmed him and made his joints ache. Anna stood naked under his gaze as the servants wrapped her in white sheets. She seemed different, the scars having sunk into her skin. The white bath-sheets coloured red and seemed somehow fitting for her now.
In Verona’s room she was dressed in red thick gowns and jewellery and furs as their rightful mistress watched apathetically from the window.
“I want to take you to Rome with me. I want to make you my wife.”
He looked at her via the mirror and briefly she closed her eyes as if in denial.
“I will come with you Gabriel Protector and I will be you wife.”
He touched her then, just lightly on the back of her neck, the only place not covered by fabric and gold and she felt like ice under his palm.
x x x x x x x
Dragulia still walked with pride as Gabriel forced him to finally face his people. There was still something these people needed to see, to witness to fully understand their freedom. He forced the Prince onto his knees and pushed his hand on the wooden execution slab. Isolating his middle finger, his ring finger for all to see. The men held him in place when Gabriel swung the axe; even though Gabriel suspected he would have held still. It was still a contest of wills and Gabriel could not help but feel like he had lost.
They burned the stump afterwards so it would not get infected. Gabriel wrapped the ring and the detached finger into a shroud to be taken back to Rome. Dragulia was imprisoned into the cells of his own house. In the end Gabriel made Dragomir the stand-in ruler of Vaseria because he had not been at the church or killed in the dining hall and because Gabriel had no other choice. He prayed for the future of these people, but could not bring himself to hope for a better life. The Turks would come and take the land now that the Impaler was gone.
It was early in the morning when their diminished band of knights finally bid goodbye to Wallachia. Anna stood beside him gently petting the muzzle of her horse.
“They say that he is still possessed. They say that the devil will never leave him. He craves the blood of others.”
Her voice was strangely hollow and she looked upon her old home with slight anger.
“Peasant tales.”
To that she smiled, but her eyes remained serious.
“He will come back, Gabriel. And you better be ready then.”
Gabriel looked at his wife in all but name, and felt chilled, but it passed as they left the Village of Vaseria behind. When they reached Rome autumn had come over the Holy City and all the leaves were brown upon the earth.