by Max Kramer
“He still lives, but not for long. You should say your goodbyes while he might be able to hear them.”
Noticing him for the first time, Brita loosed a shriek. Up close, it did not seem possible that the man could still be breathing. His entire face had been crushed by the tiger’s massive jaws, his limbs broken and twisted from his jarring trip along the forest floor.
Jaw set, Deirdre yelled at the mesmerized men.
“Snorri! See to the girls! Get them back to camp. Now!”
Huffing and puffing, Snorri charged back to the old oak, and scooping up the twins, he set off in the opposite direction, answering the girls’ concern over their fallen comrade with reassuring lies.
Konstantin continued watching Deirdre, perplexed. Eyes closed in concentration she had removed her overcoat and was rolling up the sleeves of her heavy blouse. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. She was summoning her magic.
Brita moved closer, clearly interested. Konstantin stepped back. The woman was about to unleash her demonic powers.
Muttering to herself, she held her hands a hairsbreadth above the body, moving them around in jerky, shuddering patterns.
“The bones can wait, they are of lesser importance. It is the internal bleeding that must be dealt with immediately.” Concern flashed across her frowning face. “Hang in there Jim, you foolish bastard. Don’t you dare do this to us.”
She took a deep breath. Her hands began glowing, first with a gentle luminescence, pulsing in time to her heart beat, but then brighter and brighter, until they shone like magnesium flares. Konstantin felt swirling winds buffet him from every angle. His rage rose inside him. Squinting past the wind with teary eyes, he watched Deirdre raise her glowing hands above her head before plunging them down into the injured man. The light spread through Jim’s body until the pair were a supernova burning in the forest glen.
Eyes squeezed shut against the blinding light, Konstantin heard the man shrieking in unimaginable pain. The rage howled for release. She was murdering the man with her dark sorceries, as if the pain of his brutal disembowelment had not been enough to satisfy her lust for torture. Somebody had to do something. Why wasn’t he doing something?
Konstantin was not sure how much time had passed but he slowly became conscious of his own shaky breath, his fingers stuffed into his ears in a childish attempt to escape the horrifying screams. All was quiet now. The screams were gone.
Only a weak sobbing remained. He opened his eyes cautiously. Night had reclaimed the area. Brita was on her knees, twitching feebly. He pulled her to her feet. She seemed stunned, but otherwise unharmed.
Deirdre lay over the body of her friend, completely spent. There was still blood everywhere; Konstantin could not tell if her exertions had been in vain. Remembering the screams, he shivered. He did not know if he would want to survive after feeling the pain that could cause such noises.
“Deirdre…”
Brita gasped. It was the driver who had spoken.
Deirdre visibly arrested her tears, raising her head weakly from his chest. “Jim?”
His fingers curled around her shaking hand. “Thank you.”
He was barely audible and promptly passed back into unconsciousness. They both appeared weak as babes, but miraculously whole.
Grunting in distaste, Konstantin pulled the witch up beside him. Deirdre’s body was surprisingly warm and soft. Meek as a kitten, she allowed him to hold her until Brita was able to get a good grip on her free arm. Leaning on each other for support, the two women began shuffling back toward camp. Konstantin glanced at Deirdre as she left and then did a double take. Did she just blow him a kiss? Witches.
Shaking his head, he bent and got as comfortable a grip as his chained hands would allow on the sleeping man. Careful not to jostle his burden, Konstantin followed the departing women.
Though it was too dark to tell, he felt certain the trees were full of crows.
***
“Deirdre?” With an effort she raised her head, meeting Brita’s blue eyes with her tired green ones.
“Yes, dearest?”
Brita looked away, suddenly shy. “I became a nurse because I want to help people, and I do my best, but despite my best efforts there have been many, less injured than Mr. Germon, that I have seen die.” She paused their shuffling walk. Brita waited patiently for her to continue, a manicured eyebrow raised.
“Deirdre…would you teach me to use my ability?”
Smiling, Deirdre placed her hands on Brita’s cheeks. Bending her head gently she brushed the young woman’s smooth forehead with a kiss.
“Brita, sweetheart, I thought you would never ask.”
***
“Konstantin?”
He had hoped to get the irrepressible American back to camp without having to talk to him. He sighed. Clearly he was not in God’s favor.
“Yes James?”
“You’re pretty hot when you’re angry.”
“Shut up James.”
10
When Brita and Deirdre got back to camp everyone was relieved. When Konstantin and Jim returned, they were overjoyed. Snorri sat on the ground and cried unashamedly. The twins went wild, dancing and singing, kicking up dry autumn leaves with their booted feet until Felix coerced them back into the firelight with a celebratory bag of marshmallows. Even the stoic Naoise gave Konstantin a small nod of acknowledgment.
“What in the world was that creature?” Brita asked.
“Siberian tiger,” Felix explained. “During the dark times, or what you call the Judgment, when humanity left these lands, the old flora and fauna returned. I don’t know whether these are the descendents of animals that were raised in captivity, in zoos and private households, or whether the populations of wild creatures remaining in the Far East have grown to such an extent that their territories now extend this far. However it occurred, it is clear that in only one generation the world has done much to erase the results of mankind’s centuries of expansion. I can promise you that one tiger, or a pride of lions, or a handful of bears will be the least of our worries by the time we reach our destination.”
Brita rubbed her slender hands together nervously. “Lions, and tigers and bears? Oh my.”
Deirdre signaled for Felix from her nest of sleeping bags beside the fire. When he approached, she snagged the hem of his jacket, pulling him close enough to whisper in his ear. He stood up abruptly, giving her an unhappy look. She grinned, waving him away imperiously.
Muttering to himself, he rooted through her saddle bags for a time. Locating the object of his search, he stood and stomped over to Konstantin. The long-haired northerner gave the ragged Inquisitor the stink-eye. Konstantin stared back flatly.
Felix gave a long-suffering sigh. “Raise your hands.”
“No.”
“Don’t be a jackass Konstantin; I’m taking off your chains.”
“Oh. Here,” Konstantin allowed the man to remove the heavy binders. Naoise grunted from where he was unrolling his and Deirdre’s bedding, noticing his younger brother’s actions.
“Felix, what the hell?”
“Ask your wife, man, I’m just doing what she told me.”
Naoise gave a bleat of disbelief.
“Relax boys,” Deirdre cut in, “If dear Frederick was going to give us trouble, he would have already done so, don’t you think?” They shrugged, unconvinced. “Where is he going to go? Like it or not, we’re the closest thing to allies he has at the moment.”
“He is an Inquisitor!”
“Not a very good one,” Deirdre countered drolly. “We’re all still free aren’t we? If he does anything…reckless, I will know of it.” Crows shuffled in the surrounding trees. She met the ragged prisoner’s eye. “As Felix said, where we are going there will be many dangers. I need every man I can get. I trust I am not making a mistake releasing you.”
Konstantin stared at the woman that had until recently been his most frustrating quarry. He ground his teeth. He looked a
t Brita. He looked at the twins. He looked at his boots. He sighed. Why did God feel the need to test him at every turn?
“I go with Brita. As long as I believe you can provide her with the help she needs, I will not interfere. You have my word.” He looked at the supine figure of the driver. The fool’s newly restored face wore an idiotic grin as he gave the dour Inquisitor the thumbs up. The reconstruction had been miraculous, but not perfect. Puffy scars stood out in angry lines across his chin and cheek. His nose looked like it had glued back on crooked.
Konstantin rolled his eyes. “Lord, give me strength.”
Come Frederick William Konstantin, let me show you your bedroll.
One of the twins tugged insistently at his soiled coat. Whether Hrist or Mist, he could not tell. She showed him the worn sleeping bag he had been assigned. Scanning the area around the warm fire, he dragged it beside Brita’s, placing himself between her and Felix. As he lay down, the big northerner glared from his suddenly less desirable position. Konstantin grunted, turning on his side to face his sister. She grinned sleepily at him from her insulated cocoon, the trials of the day already pulling her under. In a matter of minutes she was breathing deeply and evenly.
Konstantin tilted his head, staring into the fire. He could hear Deirdre gently shushing the girls, whose giggles leaked periodically out into the chill night from the small tent they inhabited. He could see Naoise’ broad shape through the flames as the gruff man sat dutifully, keeping watch. He rolled onto his back. A small patch of sky was visible through the dense column of trees surrounding them. The stars were beautiful.
***
Inquisitor-Brother Solomon Rex irritably adjusted the bandages across his shoulders. He was wasting his time. It was clear the fugitives had left the city days ago. He envied them that. Munich was a filthy, undisciplined place. Rex pulled on the leash in his hand. The boy stopped rooting through the rubbish filled basement and obediently loped back to the Inquisitor’s side. He moved with a strange shuffling gate, remaining hunched over until his knuckles sometimes brushed against the dusty ground. Reaching the large man the boy nuzzled in close, leaning against Solomon’s thick leg. Not once did his gaze rise from the pavement. Solomon patted his skinny back in approval. The child remained still, not flinching when the Inquisitor’s heavy hand brushed the spider web of cuts covering his filthy shoulders. His training had been harsh, but to Rex’s eye the results had already proven most rewarding.
“Come child. I want to visit the North Gate again. I have a feeling the men there know more than they have admitted about our missing friends.”
***
There was a noise. Konstantin crept through the dark forest, his muscles tensed in anticipation. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the chill night air. Pushing aside a low-hanging branch he crept stealthily toward where he had heard the telltale crackling of twigs. He could see the fog of his breath in the silver moonlight. A dark blur moved in the periphery of his vision. Diving into a roll his hands snatched for his holstered pistols. Too late he remembered surrendering them to Felix.
“Acting a little excitable, aren’t we Mr. Konstantin?”
Konstantin slowed his desperate evasion. He knew that sultry voice.
“Raven. I heard something a moment ago.” He stood, brushing twigs and leaves off of his soiled coat.
“There is no one out here but us Mr. Konstantin.” She was standing uncomfortably close. “And I told you before, my friends call me Deirdre.”
Konstantin shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not…”
Before he could finish his argument she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling herself tight against him. Turning her head up, her hot lips met his with a forceful urgency. Her body was soft and firm in all the right places. Konstantin groaned past her full lips until, caught up in the passion, he wrapped his strong arms around her intoxicating warmth. The Inquisition was a chaste order, but he was a young man, and bridled with all of a young man’s desires. Pressed together in mutual need, they sank down into the fallen leaves carpeting the forest floor and…
Konstantin woke with a startled gasp. Looking across the embers of the fire he could see the outline of the witch’s body snuggled close to her husband. With shaking hands he opened his dog-eared bible, searching for comfort in the familiar passages.
“Bad dreams, buddy?” The irrepressible James was awake again, half sitting beside the snoring Snorri.
“Horrible, Driver, horrible.”
***
They had been travelling for days. Konstantin found the incessant plodding motion of his horse torturous. Compounding the discomfort, Elvis was proving to be chronically distrustful of its new rider, and was doing its best to lose him against any conveniently placed branch or rock formation. As far as Konstantin could tell, Brita had never ridden before, yet she seemed to be getting along with her mount swimmingly.
Even through his discomfort, Konstantin could not help but notice the savage beauty of the wilderness surrounding them. Whenever they passed a remnant of human civilization still stubbornly standing against the spreading forest, he felt a distant stirring of anger at the alien object.
By the time they stopped to make camp in the evenings, Konstantin was a wretched, frazzled mess, whose foul mood had alienated him yet further from a group that barely tolerated his presence to begin with. That was fine with him. He was used to being alone. He was sick and tired of being sick and tired though. After each long day of riding he hobbled through his duties setting up camp, sore in places he had never known existed until they began hurting. He had blisters on his rear the size of silver dollars, and adding insult to injury nobody else seemed so affected by their mode of transportation. In fact, nearly everyone’s spirits had been rising of late, probably in direct correlation to the distance they moved away from Church lands. It is easier to laugh and joke and enjoy the simple things in life when you don’t feel the need to keep looking over your shoulder. Deirdre even had the poor manners to give him a teasing smack on his aching bottom whenever he limped past.
Of small conciliation to the miserable Inquisitor was the fact that Snorri was even less comfortable. The abrasive northerner had contracted some sort of stomach illness, and spent his riding time sweating and groaning. Every few hundred yards he would desperately boot his horse off to the side of the trail to the amusement of his friends and crash into the bushes fumbling with the buttons of his pants. At night, he lay next to the fire shivering and mumbling to himself as Brita dutifully kept him nourished with a weak broth. Deirdre could have probably eased his discomfort with some of her magic, but he was still out of favor after his poor showing against Konstantin in Munich.
Konstantin dumped his latest bundle of sticks beside the fire. This evening they had stopped in the remains of an old factory, its interior long ago gutted by fire. All that remained of the once imposing structure were crumbling outer walls of stone and concrete, which never rose more than two stories. In places, trees had sprouted through the floor, stretching toward the open sky.
When the time came to cook dinner, Deirdre had decided against chopping down this convenient timber, instead opting to send the Inquisitor out for dead wood. To retrieve a sufficient amount of burnable fuel, Konstantin had been forced to enter the surrounding forest by clambering up and down the shifting piles of rubble bordering the largest cracks in the wall. His return was hampered further by heavy armloads of sticks and bark.
After his annoying chore was completed he grouched over to where his sister was sitting with the twins. The girls waved cheerily at him as he approached. As likable as they were, he could not bring himself to wave back. He had seen little of Brita in recent days, she always seemed to be off somewhere with the dark skinned witch. He glared at the woman again, wondering what trouble the two were getting into.
His sulk was interrupted by the inevitable arrival of Jim. Since the incident with the tiger, the American had attached himself to Konstantin like a leech. Not for the first time, Kon
stantin rued his decision to save the man. His friendship was proving to be an onerous burden for the solitary Inquisitor, not the least because Snorri now appeared to be growing jealous.
“Hey buddy, I’ve got something I think you’ll appreciate. Yes sir, this will put a twinkle in your eye and a bounce in your step.” The chatterbox American tossed Konstantin a small jar.
“What is it?”
“Just some lotion. You know, for your bum. Don’t worry though, it will callus up soon and you’ll be sitting pretty.”
Konstantin grimaced. “How delightful.”
Nodding his grudging thanks he pocketed the lotion. Doing his best to ignore the man rambling beside him, he squatted gingerly next to the boisterous twins. The girls were cute, but they made him uncomfortable. If he had the capacity to really examine his feelings, he would be surprised to realize that it wasn’t their powers that made him feel this way. He just didn’t know how to deal with kids. He was irritated to see that Brita was playing cards with them, but he supposed it was alright since it was not gambling. The girls always won. Even with their eyes blinded they always seemed to know exactly what cards their opponent held.
Hello Frederick William Konstantin
“Hello Mist.”
I’m Hrist! She’s Mist.
“Sorry.”
Brita laughed, “Don’t fret, even Deirdre gets it wrong sometimes, and she’s known the girls since she found them at that old farmhouse outside Campobasso when they were infants.”
Konstantin grabbed her arm. “Near Campobasso? She told you that?” he hissed, his face white.
Brita pulled on his steely fingers, trying to pry them from her slender limb. “Fred, you’re hurting me. I just said that Deirdre sometimes confuses the girls too, and she has been raising them since they were infants.”
