That Which Should Not Be

by Talley, Brett J.

  Charles looked at me, and I at him, but we said nothing. It was a Hobson’s choice. The truth was there was nowhere else to go and no real decision to be made. We had one option, and that was to stay, whatever Abbess Batory required.

  Anna and Vladimir entered their rooms, and we did the same. But as I turned, and before Abbess Batory could close the door and lock it, I noticed in the corner of my eye a young woman, standing at the end of the hallway. I saw her only for a moment, just as I had seen her before. For it was the same girl I glimpsed in the night, the same girl I saw as we had passed by the fortress earlier. But then as quickly as she was there, the door was closed, and she was gone. I heard a key enter the door’s lock and a tumbler turn, followed by the steady steps of Abbess Batory as she walked off into the darkness. For a while we simply stood there. Then, Charles stepped forward, putting his hand on the door. He looked at me, but I simply shrugged. He jiggled the door handle a couple times and then pushed against it. Nothing.

  “Well, old boy, I guess we are stuck here for the night.”

  “It would appear so,” I said.

  I looked around the room. To say that it was sparsely decorated would be an understatement. There was a large bed in the corner. Of that, I was thankful, as it appeared we would be sharing it in the night. Other than that, there was a desk and a chair, several candles, a lantern which was lit, and a window with a ledge just large enough to sit upon. It struck me I saw no crucifix, no icons, no images of Christ or the Saints, and no Bible. Apparently this room had gone unused for some time.

  “Well,” Charles said, “I doubt anyone would call these luxurious accommodations.”

  He pushed gingerly down on the mattress on which he would sleep. It creaked and groaned, even with his gentle prodding.

  “Could you expect more from a convent?”

  “I suppose not,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I wonder how long it will be until the Father returns.”

  “I don’t know,” I replied, walking to the window ledge. I peered off into the night. If there were a moon, it was hidden, and in the darkness I could see nothing. “We can hope it will be soon.”

  “Yes, though I suppose we are here for the duration. So,” Charles said, and I could tell he was changing the subject, “what of Anna?”

  “What of Anna?” I asked.

  “I find her . . . intoxicating,” Charles said with a grin.

  I leaned against the window sill and stared at him.

  “She is quite beautiful, Charles. But as you are all too well aware, she is also engaged. And Vladimir does not strike me as a particularly honest man.”

  “How so?” Charles asked, as if he did not know.

  “Well, let us say he is a man who knows what he seeks and is ceaseless in the seeking of it. And, if I had to wager on the point, doubtless not all of his gains were made honestly. He is a dangerous man, Charles. I know you are accustomed to getting what you want when you want it, but we are not in England.”

  Charles nodded absentmindedly. I knew, as he knew, all I said was true. But I also knew, despite the danger involved, he would not shy away from Anna when opportunities presented themselves. It was merely my hope that in doing so neither he nor she would come to any untoward end.

  Oh, what a predicament we were in, I thought. Here we were, in a foreign land, in a more or less abandoned fortress, on top of a mountain shrouded in darkness and myth, in the hands of strangers, with no means of escape should we need it. At that thought, I chuckled to myself.

  “What?” Charles asked.

  “Nothing,” I replied.

  I knew even as I felt them these were irrational thoughts. There could be no place more secure than here. I knew I should feel safe in a place such as this, a holy place, a place I could lay my head down knowing no danger could come to me. And yet, while my rational mind told me this was true, there was something else. Something preternatural, something left over from the oldest age of human experience, which told me as long as I was within these walls, I would not be safe.

  I did not dwell on this thought long. Charles turned to me and said, “Well old man, it is late, and I am tired. As our options are limited, shall we turn in?”

  “Yes,” I replied with a smile. With that, our strange night was ended. It would be only the first of many.

  * * *

  The night passed without event. The journey had drained me physically and mentally, and I was very tired. Despite the rather cramped conditions, sleep came quickly. I slept deeply and cannot say I remember my dreams, not really. I awoke with only the barest glimpse of them, like a shadow that moves in the water. That something is there is undoubted, but your eyes cannot see it. I remember only flashes of color and of sound, and the figure of a woman. But the more I sought to focus, the further away those images would drift in my mind.

  We awoke to the bright light of day. I suppose that should not be surprising. But the night before, I believed darkness would always cover that mountain, that the light of the sun could be nothing more than a distant memory on its peak. As the gleam of morning streamed through our open window, I felt my spirits rise.

  I had not been awake long before Charles also roused himself. “Well, it would seem we’ve made it through one night intact.”

  I heard a key slide into the door and a bolt turn. The door was opened, but it was not Abbess Batory as I would have expected. Instead, it was a younger girl with a kind face and dark hair.

  “Breakfast is prepared, sirs,” she said shyly, never lifting her eyes to see where we lay. “If you will, kindly join us downstairs.” Then, as quickly as she had come, she was gone.

  “Well, she is quite the pretty thing,” Charles remarked. He looked at me and no doubt was surprised at what he saw, for I am sure I was visibly dumbfounded at that moment. It was the same girl I had seen twice before, the same girl who had been outside the gates, the same girl whose outline I had glimpsed as the door closed last night.

  “Are you alright, Daniel?” Charles asked with some concern.

  “Of course,” I almost whispered. “We should go.”

  In only the briefest of time we were clothed, and we made our way quickly down to the dining room below. We needed no guide as the sounds of activity carried us along. The castle was a brighter place in the day, and one could feel the energy pulsing through it as if it were a being come to life.

  As we entered the dining room, it became evident to the both of us that, indeed, this was a convent. The sisterhood was gathered around various tables, eating what could only be described as a sumptuous meal. I immediately wondered from whence they received their provisions. No doubt the citizens of Czernowitz were less superstitious than their compatriots across the mountain and did a brisk trade with the abbey. I suspected there was also a garden somewhere nearby tended by the sisters. It was even possible wild game was gathered to add meat to their diet.

  Anna and Vladimir were seated at a table alone. The sisters had shunned them, whether out of some negative feeling or out of modesty and fear, I could not know. Charles and I sat across from the pair.

  “Good morning,” Vladimir said.

  “Good morning,” I responded. “I trust you spent the night well?”

  “If I have ever been more tired than I was last night, I do not remember it.”

  Plates had been set out, and there were bowls of various breakfast foods on the table. Charles and I took generous portions. Apparently, he was as hungry as I. For a long while we sat there, more or less in silence, eating our food. But then one of the sisters I did not recognize approached.

  “Monsieur Vladimir,” she said. “Abbess Batory would like for you to join her briefly. She is curious to learn of your travels.”

  “Of course,” Vladimir responded. “Anna?” he said, apparently ensuring she would be fine without him. She merely nodded. He arose from his seat, leaving his empty plate behind, and made his way to the front table where Abbess Batory sat. Charles glanced at me, slyly.
I knew what he was thinking. He had made his affection for Anna clear, and this would be an opportunity for him to get to know her better, no longer under the stone-cold gaze of Vladimir. As I glanced at the head table, though, I noticed, although he was engaged in conversation, Vladimir's eyes often found us. And I knew to whatever extent Charles would have preferred to keep his affections secret, Vladimir was no fool.

  I knew Charles would prefer I leave him alone, but there really was nowhere for me to go. As I pondered this quandary, I failed to notice the approach of the young woman who had so struck me only a night before. When she sat down beside me, it came as a complete surprise.

  “Hello, sir,” she said.

  “Oh! I’m sorry,” I exclaimed. I must have looked a fool, as she chuckled lightly when I spoke. I was not Catholic, and I admit the young women who choose to give their lives to Christ were a mystery to me. I had often noticed the modest dress that marked their sacrifice stole from them whatever natural gifts they might possess. But in spite of the ungainly clothing she now wore, the softness of her face and the light in her eyes revealed the beauty beneath.

  “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said through a glowing smile.

  “Oh no, of course not,” I said quietly. I have never been a man of great boldness, and now I felt as though this pretty little girl sitting beside me had sapped whatever courage, whatever confidence, I would normally hold.

  “It’s just,” she said, “I saw you last night, and I admit my curiosity has gotten the better of my manners. But, I can leave if you would rather. . .”

  “Oh no,” I interrupted, putting a hand on her wrist. “Please stay, I am as curious as you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she replied, blushing slightly from my lack of decorum. There was, in her face, innocence, peace, joy. I wondered where it came from. I wondered where she came from. How she had come to be here. Perhaps she would tell me.

  “I judge,” she said, “by the sound of your voice, you are not of this country.”

  “No,” I said, “I am an American.”

  “American!” she exclaimed. “Why I’ve never met an American before.”

  I had heard that often but still was not sure what response was expected. So, I merely smiled.

  “Will you tell me of America?” she asked, with a smile on her face filled with both the innocence and eagerness of youth.

  “Nothing would make me happier,” I replied. “But first tell me your name.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m Lily.”

  “Lily,” I replied. “That is a beautiful name.”

  “Well thank you, sir,” she said, blushing again.

  “And how long have you been here, Lily?”

  “Not long. I am a novice, you see. I only joined the order a little less than a month ago.”

  “And what do you think of it?”

  “Well,” she stuttered, her countenance falling ever so slightly. “It is different than I expected. I suppose I was not so prepared for the isolation, the being alone. Oh . . . perhaps I speak too openly.”

  “No, please continue,” I implored her. “You have my confidence.”

  She looked at me for a second, judging me, weighing me in her balance. For the first time in a long time, someone found me worthy.

  “I do not know what it is, sir. But there is something in your face. I trust you.”

  “Good,” I said, nodding.

  “Well,” she continued, “I do love the sisterhood. But like all things, I suppose, this one has been difficult in the beginning. Perhaps once I know the other sisters better, things will improve.”

  “I am sure they will,” I said.

  “Now,” she said, her face brightening, “tell me of America.”

  I smiled. So breakfast continued, longer perhaps than I would have expected. Charles chatted freely with Anna beside me. She had struck me immediately as a shy girl, one closed to outsiders. She spoke little, and often it seemed as though she would prefer just to fade into the background. But as I talked to Lily, I could not help but notice the giggles, the smiles, the little sighs of the girl beside me. Vladimir couldn’t help but notice either. Charles, oblivious, was apparently employing all his charms. As for me, I told Lily all the stories I could muster, most of which were less than entrancing. But to her hearing, they were all the highest adventures.

  Undoubtedly, Abbess Batory was also fascinated by her guest. Though Vladimir probably would have preferred to return to the table and retake possession of Anna, Batory kept him there long after the food was finished. Had I not known better, I would have said she was enjoying this spectacle.

  But breakfast could not last forever, and soon Vladimir had freed himself from Batory’s grasp and returned to our table. Charles changed like a chameleon, immediately turning to me as if he had been involved in my conversation all along. Lily was not impressed. She looked from Charles to me and said, “Well, Daniel, I hope we can continue our conversation later.” And then she was gone.

  Chapter

  16

  “Oh, Daniel. Anna is a dream.”

  The rest of the day had been a bit of a blur. Dinner and supper had come and gone, with Batory stealing Vladimir away on both occasions, much to his dismay. Charles had taken advantage of each opportunity. Sadly, Lily had not returned, though her absence did more to whet my appetite for her charms than her presence ever could. Now, Charles was leaned against the once-again locked door, purring over his newest love.

  “Yes, Charles, she is a dream. But I cannot imagine Vladimir has many more stories to tell Batory, and even if he does, what exactly do you propose to do? Steal two horses and ride off into the night with her?”

  “Perhaps,” Charles said with a grin. “But enough about me. What about you, old boy? I saw you talking to that young girl at breakfast.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes,” I said. “Lily.”

  “Lily,” Charles repeated. “Well, Daniel, it would appear we are both sunk. At least mine has yet to take her vows.”

  * * *

  The night passed, once again without disturbance. But we were more restless, less apt to give in to slumber. The fears of the last few days had dissipated, replaced with the eager love of youth. We lay there, both trying to sleep, neither admitting sleep would not come. I suppose it was

  nigh on midnight when we heard it. It was, as most sounds are when they begin, unremarkable at first, but slowly built into something one would notice. At first, I heard it but wasn’t listening. It was a shuffling sound, the movement of cloth across stone. The muffled sound of soft, quick feet.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked Charles.

  “They’re moving,” he replied. “Look!” he said, pointing. Light was streaming in from underneath the locked door. I watched for a moment, and nothing happened. But then a shadow moved across the floor, then another and another, as if person after person was moving down the hallway.

  “Midnight Mass?” Charles asked.

  “What else could it be?” I said. But even in the asking of it, I somehow knew that was not the true explanation. Charles didn’t respond, but he knew it, too. I stepped quietly out of the bed and walked silently over to the door. I was sure what would happen, but I tried the lock anyway. Nothing. The bolt was still fast. I turned and looked at Charles. I could see the disappointment in his face. Even as I stood there, shadow after shadow continued to pass underneath.

  * * *

  The next day began much as the last, except that morning Lily was waiting at the table when we arrived.

  “Good morning, Daniel,” she said with a smile. “Sir,” she continued, turning to Vladimir, “Abbess Batory has requested your presence, once again.”

  Vladimir frowned. “Of course,” he replied with the frustration of a man who could make no other response. “Anna, gentlemen,” he said with a bow. A glance at Charles revealed he was positively ecstatic. I sat down across from Lily.

  “Did you sleep well
last night, Daniel?”

  It was an innocent question, but it cast my mind back to the night before, to the shadows that passed silently beneath my door.

  “Lily, last night, around midnight I would say, we noticed a, how to say it, a procession of some sort. Down the hallway past our room. As we were locked in, we were unable to see what the commotion might be.”

  “That’s the Midnight Mass,” Lily said brightly. “It is supposed to be beautiful.”

  “Supposed to be?”

  “Oh, I’ve never seen it,” Lily replied. “Novices are not allowed.”

  I gave her a puzzled look. “That seems rather peculiar.”

  Lily shrugged. “It is simply a rule of the Order. I never thought to question it.”

  “No,” I replied, looking off to the head table where Vladimir still sat. “I don’t suppose you would.”

  I thought for a second about what to say next, but my curiosity had the better of me. I judged the girl had immediately taken to me, and I decided to prey upon that good will.

  “Lily,” I began, “I would very much like to explore this castle. It is very beautiful, and part of my purpose in my travels is to investigate places such as this.”

  “Yes, of course!” Then, she paused. Lily looked around, as if seeing if anyone was listening. Sure that we could not be heard, but dropping her voice to a whisper nonetheless, she said, “There are many wonders to be found in the castle. Abbess Batory keeps all of the doors locked. She says that a wondering mind is the Devil’s workshop. But I am curious,” she said with a mischievous smile. “She keeps an extra key in her office. I have taken it several times.”

  “Could you get it for me?” I asked.

  Lily’s smile faded. For the first time, I think she realized perhaps she had spoken too freely.